I start the engine and check my mirrors like I always do, routine taking over even as something unsettled sits just beneath the surface.
The truck hasn’t moved.
Not yet.
I pull out of my space and head toward the exit, resisting the urge to look over again as I pass it, even though I can feel it there, feel the weight of it in a way I can’t quite explain.
It’s not until I reach the end of the lot and glance in my rearview mirror that my stomach drops.
The truck pulls out.
Slow.
Deliberate.
And it turns in the same direction I do.
My grip tightens on the wheel, pulse kicking up hard enough that I feel it in my throat, and this time there’s no brushing it off, no easy explanation that settles it back into something harmless.
Because I’ve seen it before. Not just today. The same truck. Watching. Waiting. Following. And this time, I know it’s not a coincidence.
Chapter nine
Back in the Arena
Jace
The first thing that hits is the noise.
It rolls over me the second I step out of the truck, crowd already building, speakers crackling. The low rumble of bulls shifting in the chutes somewhere behind the arena. It’s been a couple of months, but my body doesn’t forget it.
The rhythm of it settles in fast, heartbeat lining up with something familiar and dangerous at the same time.
Adrenaline.
I drag a hand over the back of my neck and take a slow breath, letting it fill my lungs before I let it go. Dust hangs in the air,thick and dry, clinging to everything, and for a second it feels like I never left.
Which is exactly what I didn’t want.
“Thought you might chicken out,” Wade says as he comes up beside me, clapping a hand on my shoulder hard enough to jolt me forward a step.
I don’t look at him right away. “Not your best bet,” I answer, voice steady, even if everything under it is already keyed up.
He snorts. “We’ll see.”
Behind him, Brooks leans against the fence, arms crossed, eyes already scanning the setup like he’s assessing more than just the ride. Luke stands a few feet off, calm as ever, but I don’t miss the way his attention tracks everything around us.
They showed up. And with their families.
Of course they did.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Brooks says, which is his version of support.
I huff out a breath. “Helpful.”
“It is if you listen,” he shoots back.
Luke’s mouth tips just slightly. “Ride clean. That’s it.”
