His Trouble Maker

JESSICA

What the hell?

Hlook around again. Neat me is an empty field with lots of flowers. Pretty white flowers. Moonlight pools over the clearing, making the damn flower glow like they’re mocking me.

“Move it, Jess” Riot said, pushing me to move. “You think your enemies will wait while you admire the scenery?”

I hate his condescending tone,

“This place is–”

“Perfect,” he cuts me off, dropping a heavy bag that thuds against the dirt. “Isolated. No witnesses.”

The bag unzips with a violent scrape. Metal glints in the moonlight–knives, I realize. My stomach twists.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I mutter, but my feet stay rooted. “I don’t know how to use weapons.”

“And I didn’t sign up to babysit Grayson’s latest fuck–up,” Riot spits, pulling out a wicked–looking blade and testing its edge with his thumb. Blood beads instantly. He licks it off without flinching. “But here we are.”

He’s stripping off his jacket while talking, revealing arms covered in scars–some fresh, some old.

“You got two choices,” he says, tossing a knife at my feet while simultaneously lighting a cigarette. “Learn to fight or learn to run faster than bullets.”

W–What?

My eyes widened, watching as he drops his smoke, grinds it under his boot, and disappears into the darkness.

Just… gone.

I spin around, searching the shadows. The knife glints at my feet. I bend to grab it when a hand suddenly clamps over my mouth from behind. Another twists my arm up between my shoulder blades. Pain shoots through my joints.

“Dead,” Riot whispers against my ear, his stubble scraping my skin. “And I wasn’t even trying hard.”

before I face–plant into the dirt. When I

says without looking up. “Never bend down for a weapon when there’s a threat nearby.

out,

His boot catches my

as he drops his knee

face inches from mine./’It’s not cheating if you’re this

burns hotter than pain. I twist my hips violently, catching

slamming my forehead

knee between us and kick hard into his stomach. He stumbles backward, knife still clutched in his hand, a surprised laugh escaping

1/3

Chapter 70

from his face with the back of his hand. “Was

scramble to my feet, dirt clinging to

Congratulations.” He circles me like a predator, flipping the knife casually while keeping those cold eyes locked on mire Ha

“What does that-”

pivoting on my heel as his blade whispers past my ear. My elbow connects with his ribs. Not hard enough. His hand tangles in my

murmurs, breath hot against my

his grip even as strands of hair tear

hammers against my chest, but something wild is awakening inside

“Maybe after training. If

www

wish,” I spit, feinting left before diving right, watching his movements more carefully

there’s something else there

his face. He blinks reflexively – just enough time for me to lunge for the knife I spotted by

calls out, already moving toward me. “I

by inches as he

hiss through clenched

it easier for you to kill me. Brilliant

grip. Before I can react, he’s flipped me onto