Chapter 680
[ 494 words ]
Chapter 680:
She tucked it.
“Better.”
The single word should not have warmed her. It did anyway.
“Now imagine someone grabs you from behind,” he said. “Not a gentleman. Not a training partner. Someone bigger. Someone who means to drag you somewhere dark. What do you do?”
R𝗲𝘢𝗱 on an𝘆 𝖽e𝘃𝗶се 𝘰𝗇 𝗴𝗮𝗅𝗇o𝘷𝗲𝘭𝘀.c𝗈𝗆
Her agent’s training screamed the answer. Drop weight. Trap the arm. Strike the groin. Break the foot. Attack the throat. Run.
She gave him the answer a frightened civilian would give. “I scream.”
His face went colder.
“You scream while you move,” he said. “Noise without movement is prayer. Prayer is not a plan.”
She swallowed.
“Drop your weight,” he commanded. “All of it. At once. Make yourself hard to move.”
She bent her knees, but not enough.
“Again.”
She did it again.
“Again.”
This time, the pain in her forearm flared from the tension in her body. She hissed through her teeth.
His gaze snapped to the wound, and for one dangerous second, the lesson disappeared beneath the urge to kill Harper.
“Jarrod,” she warned.
His eyes returned to hers. “Again.”
This wasn’t training. This was punishment. Not with fists, not with force, but with relentless, merciless pressure. Every command was designed to strip away softness, fear, hesitation. Every correction struck where she was already bruised.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, stinging her eyes. The pain in her arm was a constant, throbbing fire, each movement tugging at the torn skin beneath her sleeve.
“Turn,” he ordered. “Elbow back.”
She threw a weak, half-hearted elbow into empty air.
“That was nothing.”
“I’m hurt.”
“Your enemy won’t care.”
The words landed hard.
She turned on him, eyes blazing, wet with furious, unshed tears. “Your movements are theoretical because you can’t even demonstrate them!” she snapped, her voice raw. “No beginner could possibly keep up with this kind of pressure. You’re not teaching. You’re punishing me.”
She pushed herself upright, her body trembling with a mixture of pain and rage. She pointed a shaking finger at him.
“I’m done,” she spat. “I’m requesting a new partner. I’ll ask the base commander. I’ll ask for Dr. Reed. Anyone would be better than you.”
“New partner?”
The words, spoken in a near whisper, were more terrifying than any shout. The temperature in the room plummeted. The cold fury in Jarrod’s eyes was swallowed by something else, something dark and ancient and utterly insane. A possessive madness that eclipsed all reason.
He did not grab her. He did not throw her. He did not pin her to the cot with a body too injured for that kind of arrogance. Instead, he took one slow step forward, using nothing but proximity, height, and the lethal quiet of his voice to trap her where she stood.
She should have moved. She didn’t.
He leaned down, his nose brushing against hers, his breath hot against her skin. “You will never,” he whispered, the sound a soft, terrifying caress, “have another partner.”
Her heart felt like it was going to explode.
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