The argument had spiraled out of control, voices raised, tension crackling in the air. You were frustrated—no, furious. And before you could stop yourself, you lashed out, your fist colliding with Price’s jaw in a reckless burst of anger.

The second your knuckles made contact, you knew you’d made a mistake.

Price barely reacted. His head turned slightly with the impact, but when his eyes snapped back to you, there was no surprise—just cold, controlled authority.

And then, in one swift motion, he moved.

Before you could take a step back, he caught your wrist, twisted just enough to throw you off balance, and swept your legs out from under you. You barely had time to register what was happening before your back hit the floor, the breath knocked from your lungs.

He was on you in an instant, knee pressing into your sternum just enough to pin you without hurting you. His hand braced against your shoulder, keeping you locked in place as he leaned down, voice low and edged with steel.

“You done?”

You gasped for air, heart pounding, but the fight in you was already fading. You had lost control—and Price had put you back in your place in seconds.

“I—”

“You ever pull that stunt again, and I won’t go easy next time.” His grip tightened briefly before he pushed himself up, giving you space. “I don’t care how pissed off you are. You never strike a superior officer. You never lose your temper like that again. Do you understand me?”

You swallowed hard, nodding, the sting of humiliation settling in. “Yes, sir.”

Price watched you for a moment before exhaling sharply, shaking his head as he stepped back. “Get your ass up.”

You did as you were told, standing on shaky legs, your pride bruised just as much as your body.

“Next time you’ve got something to say, use your words,” he muttered, adjusting his gloves. “Because if you come at me again, I won’t be so gentle.”