Page 68 of The Quiet Witness

Liam didn’t deserve that. He would be found in a ditch, just like Sharon had been found. Bound, gagged, killed.

“Ohhhh, you meant to say please… right, well.” Another slap of the gloves. “I do think Sharon begged for the same, no? Must be terrifying, asking someone to stop, and they just… don’t”

Kate, she would be given a special spot among the roses. If ever he got to killing her, that is. Soon, soon.

Chapter 28

The Walls Are White

“Again.”

The sound of a fist colliding with the pad, in just the right… spot. It was like music to Kate’s ears. Each hit a testament that she was learning, improving. Hell. Even changing her situation one punch at a time.

“Again.”

Today though, each time, she’d do one of the hundred things that were considered wrong. Off-center, dropping her defense. The works.

“Again.”

The next punch hit harder. But alas, off-center. Lucien kept hammering home the same word. Nothing short of an OCD loving, goddamn perfectionist.

She bit into her lips. It wouldn’t be surprising if she left a dent in them.

“Nope.” Lucien raised an eyebrow, silently asking: What is going on here?

The hell if I know. Two weeks of training in boxing and judo. Lucien had even gone as far as to incorporate sparring. The mouth guards, shin guards, getting-hit-in-your-face type of sparring. She loved every second of it. And was praised repeatedly by her dear teacher for her swiftly growing skills. Which made today downright brow-furrowing, to say the least.

She gathered her frustration into her fist. Smack. Off-center, if the pain flaring in her wrist was any indication.

“Nope.”

Kate glared at the white dot on the pad. Watching it fade from view as Lucien lowered them.

“Your elbow dropped, again.”

She wiggled out of the boxing gloves, hands slick with sweat, then turned to take a swig of water. Best to count to ten, giving her the necessary seconds to bite back the retort that lay ready on her tongue. There was a reason for her attempt at remaining somewhat… civil. Lucien had been going above and beyond in her training. He’d even refrained from butchering her with his sharp tongue.

“Your wit isn’t with you today.”

There goes that. She smiled sweetly, grinding out. “Perhaps, if you would allow a mistake to slip through every now and then… My wit wouldn’t be covered in the dust of agains.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. Oh dear, time for a lecture. She could nearly recite it by heart now.

“Imperfection doesn’t work in martial arts. If I let you get away with one wrong move, it’ll become a habit, then muscle memory.” He shrugged, muscles rolling with the movement. “All your effort would be wasted.”

Kate nodded. He was right, but it didn’t help the stone from sinking down to her stomach. She turned to gaze out the window while taking another sip. The towering pine trees swayed in the wind, raindrops gently curving their way down the glass. Finally, something other than the white crystals drifting down.

She rolled her shoulders, wincing at the ache in them. With training came pain. A lot of it. A second later strong fingers dug in between her neck and shoulder. His.

Touch. Lucien had become a lot more touchy, the biggest surprise being… she allowed it. It came with the territory of learning the arts. Or so she told herself.

“It doesn’t matter. We all have these days.” His warm hands skillfully worked their way into the knots, pressing in all the right places. She desperately buried her sounds of pleasure. That would go too far. “What matters is that you keep going, which is something you don’t seem to struggle with.” Another gentle push, this time a tiny “Hmm.” Escaped her. Fuck. “Enjoying it, sweetheart?” She could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hmmhmm.” He dropped his hands. “Then I guess you won’t mind me stopping.”

Kate bit back her disappointment, turning to him with a flourish. “Nope, not at all.”