Page 65 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Fifty-Four

V ictoria paced the apartment, the flowers now nothing more than background noise. She remembered Tristan mentioning dinner, but her appetite was nonexistent. Instead, she headed to the kitchen, needing something to do.

Of course, Tristan had already taken care of everything. The plates were washed, the counters spotless, the leftovers neatly put away. A bottle of wine chilled in the fridge beside a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries.

Her chest tightened. This motherfucker had the whole night planned, she thought, sending the biggest silent fuck you to Cassian.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. Sitting here, waiting and worrying was driving her insane.

Her phone was in her hand before she’d fully thought it through, thumb hovering over the rideshare app. I could go to Crimson Veil.

But the second the thought took shape, she shoved it away.

If she showed up, she’d be a distraction. If someone recognized her, it could put both of them in danger.

She needed a release. Something to keep her from spiraling. Her gaze landed on her gym bag in the corner.

I haven’t trained with Tony in weeks.

Sparring. That’s what she needed. It was Friday, he should be at the gym.

Victoria grabbed the bag and slung it over her shoulder. If she couldn’t fight beside Tristan, then she needed to remind herself how to fight for him.

Pulling out her phone, she shot Tony a text.

Victoria

You at the gym?

Three dots appeared instantly.

Tony

Yeah. Thought you died. You coming?

She exhaled, gripping the strap of her bag tighter.

Victoria

Be there in fifteen.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

She grabbed her keys, slipped on her shoes, and was out the door.

“Who’s this stranger?” Casey called from behind the counter as Victoria stepped into the gym.

The sights, the sounds, the familiar smell of sweat and determination was a sharp contrast to the chaos in her mind. Instantly, her anxiety started to ease.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Casey,” she said with a small smile, walking past her without slowing down, heading straight for the locker room.

Inside, she quickly threw her hair up into a messy bun, the familiar motions of getting ready to fight grounding her. She wrapped her hands tightly, the pressure of the cloth a small comfort.

Once she was done, she walked back out of the locker room and toward the center of the sparring mat. The weight of her gloves settled over her hands, the leather smooth and firm as she slid each one into place. Ready.

“Oh shit, she returns.” Tony stepped onto the mat, grinning. “You’ve been slacking.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now.” Victoria rolled her very tense shoulder, stretching it out.

Tony laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender. “White flag.” He grabbed his gear and headed off to put it on. “Start warming up.”

Victoria squared her stance on the mat, the coolness of the floor grounding her as she stretched her arms. Her body knew the motions, but her mind was still elsewhere, heavy with worry. Tristan. His absence hung in the air like a shadow.

The gym was quiet, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of someone pounding a heavy bag. Tony, caught sight of her across the room and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re looking a little tense tonight,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and concern. He walked over, his eyes sharp as they scanned her. “What’s going on?”

Victoria barely spared him a glance. “Just need to hit something,” she said, her voice tight.

Tony didn’t push, but he turned to grab a pair of pads from the wall, tossing one at her. “Alright, let’s see if you’ve been keeping up with those drills.”

She didn’t hesitate. She caught the pad and snapped into position, her body instantly falling into rhythm.

The first few jabs were mechanical, routine.

Her muscles were on autopilot. But with every punch, her mind kept drifting back to Tristan, to the weight of the conversation earlier and the worry gnawing at her.

It was there, always lurking in the back of her mind, but she pushed it down with every strike.

Tony called for more aggressive movements.

Victoria followed without question, her fists landing on the pad in quick succession.

Punches, hooks, uppercuts—her body didn’t even think, it just reacted.

The rhythm of her strikes, the beat of her own breath, and Tony’s encouraging voice were the only things in the world right now.

“Good! That’s it! Now, mix it up,” Tony called, his voice sharp.

Her heart was pounding, her muscles burning, but she kept pushing. She wasn’t thinking anymore, just moving, throwing combination after combination. Each strike felt sharper, faster, like she was finally escaping the tight grip of her worries, if only for a moment.

The sweat was dripping from her brow now, but the intensity was growing. She pushed harder. Punch after punch came faster, more instinctive, more powerful. The exhaustion she’d felt earlier was now gone, replaced by a raw, unstoppable energy.

She wasn’t thinking about Tristan.

Not anymore.

For the first time in hours, her mind was clear. Just her, the pads, and the fight.

It had been at least forty-five minutes on the mat when the air in the gym shifted. Victoria was hitting her combos, her body moving with practiced ease. Tony stood off in the corner, watching, his arms crossed.

“You’re not where I left you.”

Tristan’s voice cut through the gym, low and dangerous.

Victoria finished her set before turning to him. Her eyes widened at the cut on his lip, a bruise already darkening along his eyebrow.

“Well, fuck,” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm as she stalked toward him. “I was hoping to beat you home.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I told you to stay,” he growled, jaw clenched, his tone leaving no room for argument. “What part of that didn’t you get?”

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” Standing in front of him slowly, draping her arms over his shoulders, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You don’t get to run off, fight for your life and expect me to sit in an apartment like a basic bitch.”

Tristan’s fists curled at his sides, his whole body coiled tight. “This isn’t a joke, Victoria,” he said sharply. “You think this is about me treating you like a basic bitch? It’s about keeping you alive.”

Victoria’s fingers trailed over the bruise forming along his jaw, her touch light but taunting. “Oh, right. Because you’re the only one allowed to risk your life?” Her smile didn’t waver, but her eyes burned. “That’s rich, Locke.”

Tristan exhaled sharply, his jaw flexing. “You being out here, alone, makes you a target. And I don’t have time to hunt down every bastard who thinks they can get to me through you.”

Victoria huffed a laugh, stepping back. “You don’t get it. I can’t just sit there, waiting for the next time you don’t come home.” Her voice was quieter now, but no less fierce. “I have to do something, Tristan. I have to breathe.”

His expression softened, just for a second, but the battle between them wasn’t over. He reached up, brushing his knuckles along her jaw. “Then let me be the one to keep you breathing,. he pleaded quietly.

Before she could respond, he caught her wrist, just enough to still her movement. His lips brushed against the inside of it, his voice a rough whisper as his gaze flicked around the room. “And we should not be doing this here. We have eyes everywhere.”

Victoria blinked, realization crashing down on her. They were still standing in the middle of the gym.

Well, fuck.

“Let me go get my stuff. Be right back.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning to walk away.