Chapter 24
Luke
The taste of blood in my mouth isn’t enough to snap me out of it.
Neither is Talon’s follow-up blow to my gut. When my right hook lands across his jaw, I almost crow in victory.
Talon’s a big son of a bitch, but he’s not actually all that good at fighting. Probably hasn’t had to do it much. Most people just look at his face and leave him alone.
On the other hand, I’ve trained in a few different martial arts—mostly out of boredom, partly because I have a bad habit of ending up in fights that make no sense. I can take him down if I want to.
The only problem is that every one of Tal’s blows lands like a hammer, heavy enough to crack bone.
And I get the feeling he’s holding back.
That pisses me off more than anything.
I lunge, tackling him to the ground to take away his size advantage. It’s like trying to flip a boulder, but I manage it. I take a couple of hits to the ribs and gut on the way down, then drive my head into his face.
Bastard.
Muscle memory kicks in. My left foot goes around behind his ankle, I turn my waist, and I trip him, sending him down again. Not that it seems to bother him. He practically bounces back up again, and a well-timed left hook catches me in the eye, rattling my brain, but I keep swinging.
Not too hard, though. I know exactly how much force I’m using.
I’m not trying to hurt him, I’m trying to make him hurt me. Trying to push him into fighting back harder, giving me everything he’s got.
But he won’t.
He just blocks, jaw tight, eyes burning with defiance.
“Damn you,” I snarl. “Fight back! Hit me, for Christ’s sake!”
“Luke, what the fuck are you doing?”
Reid’s voice cuts in behind me, sharp and furious, but it doesn’t stop me. He grabs me and hauls me off Talon, and I turn on him without thinking, swinging.
A distant part of me knows I’ve lost the plot. I don’t want to hurt Reid, but that doesn’t stop my fists.
He dodges most of it anyway. He’s not formally trained, but he’s fast—street fighter instincts, quick reflexes.
“Stop!” he snaps. “Luke, stop it!”
There’s movement around us—voices, footsteps—but none of it lands until I see her.
Sierra stands near the steps with Amanda, staring at me.
It hits like cold water.
What the fuck am I doing?
The rage is still there, pounding through me, but I force myself upright, dragging in a breath.
“What the hell was that about?” Reid demands.
I don’t answer. I wipe my mouth, breathing hard. Talon’s already on his feet, walking away.
Reid looks between us, trying to figure out where to start.
“Check on Talon first,” I say, my tone coming out almost casual. “I don’t think I broke his nose, but better make sure.”
Reid just stares at me, then shakes his head.
“I’ll deal with you later.”
He goes after Talon.
I’m still pissed as I wipe the blood from my mouth. My teeth ache—feels like one of my incisors might be loose. If he’s messed that up, I swear to God…
Yeah, like you didn’t start it.
My eye throbs. My ribs ache. My lip’s split, and I’m going to be bruised to hell for days.
But it wasn’t enough.
It’s not what I wanted.
Jesus, Luke. Get a grip. You’re spiraling.
“What happened?”
Sierra’s voice pulls me back. I didn’t even hear her approach.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter. I spit blood into the grass and try to walk past her, but she catches my wrist.
“Luke, wait. Talk to me.”
“Not right now, Sierra.” I ease my hand free, stepping away. I can’t do this. Can’t be the easy, gentle version of me she knows.
The anger is still there, simmering under the surface. It feels familiar in a way I don’t like—as if stepping back into an older, less mature version of myself I thought I’d left behind.
Maybe that’s why he got to me so easily.
Because this isn’t who I am anymore.
Or at least, it’s not who I’m supposed to be.
I should’ve ignored him. Walked away. Let him sulk.
Instead, I went looking for it. Pushed him until he swung.
I can tell myself I was joking, that I didn’t mean it, but there was something else underneath.
Something darker.
I knew exactly what I was doing.
I deliberately provoked him. He reacted.
And here we are.
You’re a fucking mess, Luke.
Disgust at my own actions hits hard, but nausea hits too, and on the way back in, I make a mental note to stop in the bathroom and throw up.
Right on cue, the self-loathing follows.
Once Reid’s done with Talon, he’ll come looking for me. I don’t want to be here when he does, so I make a beeline straight to my room, grab my keys, and then head for the door.
A few guests watch me in the hallway as I pass.
I wonder how many of them saw it. Saw how un-Zen I really am. Not exactly a great look for one of the owners of a health and wellbeing retreat.
We’re going to lose a few memberships over this. Reid’s going to be furious. He’s worked his ass off, building this place, and I just dragged it through the mud.
Nice one.
What happened shouldn’t have happened. Not at all. But definitely not in front of everyone.
And the worst part is I don’t even fully understand why it did.
You do. You just don’t want to say it out loud.
Sierra’s still outside with Amanda and Key when I storm past. They watch me head for the truck.
“You alright, man?” Key calls.
I give a thumbs-up as I get in. But as I pull out of the lot, Sierra’s expression sticks with me—confused, hurt.
Shit. What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I push it this far?
Because I knew something had happened between them. I could feel it. The way her eyes drifted to him. That soft, distant look on her face.
And the way he looked back.
Yeah. Okay. I was jealous.
Fine.
I’ll own that.
Possessive, too. Which is not my usual thing.
And it pissed me off because it felt unfair.
We said we’d keep things clean. No crossing lines with her.
And I’m the only one actually sticking to it.
Reid’s already crossed that line, and Tal… yeah, I’m not blind.
It’s not like I don’t respect her choices. I do. If that’s what makes her happy, then fine.
But it’s not fair if I’m the one holding back. The one forcing myself to stay in my lane. Every damn day. Ignoring how she looks at me. Ignoring what I want to do about it.
Touch her. Kiss her.
Yeah. Not helping.
I grip the wheel harder, jaw tight, swerving to narrowly avoid the ditch as I round a bend.
Point is, I’m not usually like this.
But something about Sierra brings it out.
My phone starts ringing. I ignore it. Probably Reid. I don’t need that right now.
Hearing from him isn’t going to calm me down. It’ll just wind me up more.
I take a breath, easing off the gas. No point driving like an idiot. The last thing I need is to wreck the truck and make things worse.
Yeah. Plenty of other ways to screw things up.
God, I need a drink.
This isn’t who I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be past all this. Supposed to be the calm one. The grounded one.
I should be happy she’s doing better. She’s settling in, making friends, actually enjoying herself.
She doesn’t need me the way she did before. That’s a good thing. So… why does it piss me off? Why am I jealous?
This is exactly why you don’t mix business with pleasure. Because now she’s caught up in my bullshit instead of focusing on her own healing.
She’s probably back there right now, blaming herself for what happened.
I should call her. Tell her it’s not on her.
No. Not now.
Reid… or Key.
I pull into the bar parking lot, apply the handbrake, and grab my phone.
Key picks up immediately. “Hey, man. You good?”
“Yeah. Sorry about earlier. Sorry you had to see that.”
“No, it’s fine. Everyone has bad days—even you. Honestly, it made me feel better.”
“It did?”
“Yeah. You’re usually cool as hell. Seeing you lose it like that? Kind of reassuring. Makes my own freak-outs feel less… catastrophic.”
“Gee, thanks.” I rub my jaw. “Do me a favor. Check in on Sierra for me. Make sure she’s not blaming herself.”
“Why would she blame herself?”
Shit. “Just… tell her I’m fine. That everything’s okay. I’ll be back later. I’ll talk to her then.”
“Alright.” He pauses. “You want company?”
“Yeah. But not from a recovering alcoholic.”
I hang up and head inside.