Chapter 541
The black jeep surged forward like a predator released from a cage, its engine growling as it plowed through the mob without slowing, radiating unstoppable force.
Screams and gasps followed as the crowd split down the middle, scrambling to get out of the way. The vehicle came to a halt barely two meters from Rylie, its hulking frame now a solid wall between her and the mob. The door slammed open.
Recognition flickered across the bodyguards’ faces, and they eased their stance, stepping aside to reveal her.
A tall man emerged, his presence impossible to miss. Without a word, he swung the suit jacket draped over his arm up and over Rylie’s head, shielding her from the flashing cameras. In the same motion, he drew her into his chest, his voice low and certain against her ear. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
Wrapped in darkness, Rylie drew in the mingled scent of tobacco and medicinal herbs—an unexpected mix that, strangely, grounded her.
Pressed firmly against the solid wall of his chest, her fingers instinctively curled into the jacket’s fabric, her heartbeat quickening.
Without a word, he swept her up and set her inside the jeep.
Brad swung the rear door shut, sealing her away from the blinding flashes and the roar of the mob. His gaze, cold and cutting like steel edged with frost, raked over the frenzied crowd.
Wherever his eyes landed, voices faltered, and even the boldest fans stepped back as unease slithered into their bones. By the time the military guards arrived, the jeep already had a clear path. It surged forward, leaving the chaos behind.
Only when the uproar faded into the distance did Rylie push the jacket back from her head. Her eyes found his profile, taut with focus as he drove. “Why were you smoking?”
Brad’s hands tightened on the wheel, the faint crack of his knuckles breaking the silence.
“So, this is the first thing you want to say when I show up?” Brad’s head turned slightly, and his eyes met hers for a beat—shadowed, conflicted, holding more than he was willing to say.
Rylie tilted her head. “So, what did you expect me to say? Your health can’t handle this much smoking, yet this jacket reeks of it. You’ve been chain-smoking lately, haven’t you? Strong ones too.”
Brad was quiet for a long moment before murmuring, “I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
“The mastermind behind the bear incident?” she asked.
Brad gave a vague hum, but his mind wasn’t on the case. It was on her—completely.
The thought of pulling away because he couldn’t protect her was torture. The only way he could numb that ache was with tobacco and alcohol.
“What’s the progress?” Rylie pressed.
He pressed his lips together. “No. It’s complicated. Stop grilling me. What about you?”
Rylie folded his suit jacket neatly and set it aside. “I’m okay.”
“Okay?” Brad suddenly pulled the car over and turned to her. His gaze swept over her disheveled state. “Even left alone, you still end up the target of baseless hostility.”
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