The gym’s heavy doors groaned as Elvis pushed them open, and we stepped inside.
The familiar scent of rubber mats and polished floors mixed with a faint whiff of disinfectant hit me, but it didn’t calm the storm raging in my chest.
My anger was still simmering, bubbling up every time I thought about that bear trap and Jenny’s smug laugh echoing in the warehouse.
Elvis walked beside me, his fists clenched, jaw tight.
“I still can’t believe that psycho thought it was okay to put a damn bear trap in there. Who does that?” he asked, his anger visible on his voice.
“Jenny,” I replied, my voice dripping with disdain. “She’s a manipulative, spoiled brat who thinks she can get away with anything.”
“Yeah, well, she’s gonna regret messing with us,” Elvis muttered darkly. His tone was sharp
