I lunge. He blocks, disarms me, and sweeps my legs. I hit the mat hard.
Seth helps me up. His fingers ghost down my arm, checking the bruises, the joint stiffness. When he gets to my ribs, I flinch and he freezes.
“I hate this,” I whisper, my breath hitching. “I hate how weak I feel.”
Seth’s arms wrap around me before I can finish. He holds me there while I shake, biting down hard enough on my lip to keep from crying.
“You’re not weak,” he says into my hair. “You’re the strongest woman I know.”
“I don’t want to just be strong,” I whisper. “I want to be ready. I want to make them suffer.”
“You will. We’ll make sure of it.”
The door opens behind us.
Travis steps in quietly, his eyes going straight to me instead of the room. He pauses then crosses the training space and drops into a chair against the wall.
“You good?” he asks.
I let out a short laugh that scrapes on the way out. “No.”
He nods once. “Fair.”
Seth pushes off the wall near the mats. “We’ll take a break.”
Then he heads for the door without another word, giving us space.
I don’t argue. My body feels heavy, like it has finally decided to feel everything at once.
Seth nods and steps outside.
“Look at you, GI Jane,” Travis leans forward, his forearms on his knees. “These fuckers have no idea what’s coming.”
“Yeah.” My throat tightens. “I’m just not sure it fixes anything. Revenge doesn’t bring people back. It doesn’t undo what happened.”
He doesn’t interrupt.
“I probably wouldn’t have been a great mom anyway,” I sigh. “I’m too fucked up, this isn’t something you bring a kid into.”
“Don’t say that,” Travis says immediately. “You would’ve been a great mom, Brooke.”
I shake my head.
“No,” he adds. “You really would have. Just because you’ve been through hell doesn’t mean you’d repeat it. If anything, it makes you better at protecting the people you love.”
I stare at the floor.
“Good things happen to bad people all the time,” I whisper. “And good people get screwed for no reason.”
He nods slowly. “Yeah. I had the same thoughts after I lost Mila.”
That cracks something open in my chest.
My eyes burn. I look away fast and wipe at my face before anything can spill.
“I’m so fucking mad, Travis. Everything in my life feels fake now. My dad was part of it. That whole psycho murder cult. He killed other killers, apparently, but he was still involved. And my aunt and uncle knew. They lied to me my whole life.”
My voice drops. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
