"I'm not done."
The words hung in the court like a threat.
For a second, no one moved.
Then Jagger bent slightly, slipped one foot back, and kicked off the black indoor slides they had shoved him into. The cheap things skidded across the rubber mat and spun to a stop near the edge of the court. Barefoot now, he planted himself properly, feeling the texture of the mat beneath his soles, the grip, the give, the subtle drag that told him exactly how the court would answer when he moved.
Chase stared at him with open disbelief, then grinned wider as the shock bled out of his expression and something uglier took its place. Delight. The kind reserved for opponents who refused to act in accordance with reason.
Jace did not smile at all. Her attention sharpened instantly, her body tightening in that small, efficient way that meant she had already accepted the fight was not over.
