Everyone at the Gym Was Lying to Me

"Lift with your legs, Denis," I laughed, watching him glare at me from his corner of the weight room.

"Easy for you to say, supergirl," he snapped, huffing as he heaved the fifty-pound weights off the floor like they were made of lead.

I smirked and turned toward the mirror, flexing experimentally. The glow under my skin stayed steady—thank God—but my muscles looked sharper. Defined. Dangerous. Perfect. I caught a couple of lingering looks from nearby guys pretending very hard not to stare.

And then a voice cut clean through the clatter of iron and bass-heavy music.

"Charlotte?"

I froze.

The name echoed, bouncing off the walls of the gym like it had been carved into the concrete. For a split second, I honestly thought I was losing it. Sleep deprivation plus sudden superpowers made hallucinations feel completely plausible.

"Girl," Denis hissed, eyes wide, "hide."

Too late.

Peterson Cayden Grant—PCG—stood a few feet away, dressed in civilian workout gear, headphones slung around his neck. He was staring at me the same way I was staring at him.

Fuck me now.

"Great," I muttered under my breath.

Of course. The detective who had nearly tried to lock me up in a psych ward two months ago just happened to go to my gym. Nothing suspicious at all.

"It's funny running into you here," Grant said casually, like we were old friends instead of mutual threats. "I was actually planning to stop by your apartment afterward. See how you were doing—"

"Don't," I snapped, cutting him off.

He blinked, unbothered. "Did you hear from Jackson yet? He said he'd swing by your place and check on you too—"

"Yeah, he did," I said quickly, a little flush creeping up my neck. Jackson. My boyfriend. My anchor in all this chaos. The thought of him, calm and steady, ready to protect me if anything went sideways, made my chest tighten in a way I wasn't sure I could explain.

"That Super Kid," Grant corrected, adjusting his grip as he casually repped another set of weights. "I gave him your info like you said I could."

I rolled my eyes. "Super Dick. Sure, he had spaghetti with us."

"Yes, he did," Denis chimed in, oblivious as always.

I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

Grant smacked his lips, set the weights down, and straightened. "Glad you two are bonding."

I crossed my arms. "You almost had me committed. You don't get to act friendly."

"Charlotte," he said evenly, "I might have a mission for you. Now that I know you weren't lying."

I barked a laugh. "Unlike you, I'm not a slave to the government. You can't make me—"

"It pays a lot," he interrupted, eyes flicking to the mirror. "And you get free access to pretty much whatever you want. But you're right, kiddo. You don't have to take it."

My jaw tightened. "You're making a scene."

He glanced around pointedly. "You mean all these people?"

I followed his gaze.

Every single person within earshot suddenly felt too still. Too aware.

"They work for me too," Grant said.

My stomach dropped. "You mean they're cops?"

"Most of them," he admitted. "Some fire, paramedics, FBI, military."

I turned slowly toward Denis. "And you?"

"Surprise," he said brightly, fluttering his jazz hands. "Government employee. It wasn't supposed to happen like this—when I moved in, you didn't have abilities. But once I suspected you caught the superflu? I've been tracking you, boo."

He blew me a kiss. I nearly lost it.

"Was Super Dork in on this too?" I asked.

"Nope," Grant said, already lifting again. "He freelanced. Messed up our timeline."

I groaned and dropped onto a bench, palms pressed into my eyes.

"So here's the proposal," Grant continued. "You and Jackson work together on a larger mission."

I peered up at him. "And if I refuse?"

"I take you into custody."

The gym went quiet in that way that wasn't quiet at all—weights clanking too loudly, breathing suddenly noticeable. All eyes were on us.

One minute I'd been mocking Denis's deadlift. Next, I was surrounded by undercover operatives and a detective who couldn't decide if he wanted to recruit me or lock me up.

Was he insane?

"Well," I said, standing, arms crossed, "the answer's still no."

Grant's eyes narrowed. He glanced around, catching silent confirmation from his people, then leaned in closer. "You're not the first person I've offered this to, Charlotte. You're just the first who's said no."

I swallowed but didn't look away.

"Listen," I said, voice steady despite the buzz under my skin, "I'm done being controlled. I'm not signing up for some secret war just because you're scared of what I might become."

"This mission's personal," he said quietly. "For you."

That stopped me.

"Personal how?"

His mouth curved—not a smile. "The thing you're running from? The people who put you where you are? They know exactly where you are now."

Cold slid down my spine.

"They're coming," Grant added. "Ready or not."

Denis lowered his protein bar. "So what, we're joining a government circus now?"

Grant didn't even look at him. "You don't have to join us, Charlotte. But if you don't... I can't guarantee how long you and Jackson stay free."

Silence stretched.

"You can try to scare me," I said finally, heat crackling faintly in my palms, "but I'm not signing up. Ever. And I'm not putting Jackson in this either."

Grant studied me—really studied me—then nodded once. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He walked away. The gym slowly exhaled.

Denis leaned closer. "You sure about this, girl?"

"Yeah," I said.

But even as the word left my mouth, my pulse told a different story. This wasn't over. It was just getting higher.