Chapter 87
[ 481 words ]
Chapter 87:
“Thank you, Cromwell,” Jarrod said, his voice a low, vibrating growl. “Hold your position. Do nothing. I’ll handle it.”
He ended the call without another word. The heavy silence that followed was suffocating.
Caroline’s jaw tightened. The knot of tension in her stomach, which had briefly loosened, cinched tight again. Of all the days for Melanie to grow a spine, she had chosen this one.
She glanced down at her lap. She was clutching a cheap, wrinkled brown paper bag against her stomach. It was the breakfast Jarrod had allowed her thirty seconds to grab from the convenience store downstairs before he had pulled her into the SUV, a greasy egg sandwich wrapped in foil, the only thing she could snatch in the seconds he’d counted down on his watch.
Jarrod’s sharp eyes followed her gaze and landed on the bag.
Caroline followed his stare. A hot flush of embarrassment hit her cheeks. She instinctively pulled the paper bag closer to her chest.
“What?” she muttered.
𝗪𝖾 𝗎𝗉d𝗮t𝖾 e𝘷𝖾r𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝘦𝗸 𝗼𝗇 𝗴𝖺𝗹𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝘭𝘀.c𝘰𝗺
Jarrod didn’t answer with words. He simply gestured with his chin toward the bag, a silent, arrogant command to hand it over.
Caroline glared at him. “Absolutely not. This is my breakfast. I grabbed it myself. With my own money.”
Jarrod’s expression didn’t change. He extended his left hand, not his injured right, and waited with the patience of a man who had never been denied anything in his life.
Caroline’s chest heaved with sudden, indignant anger. She tightened her grip on the bag.
“If you throw my breakfast out that window,” Caroline warned, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper, “I swear to God, I will fight you.”
The corner of Jarrod’s mouth curved up into a dark, wicked smirk. The look in his eyes was pure, unfiltered provocation.
He didn’t throw it out the window.
He reached across with his left hand and plucked the bag from her grip with a single, smooth motion. Then he lowered his head, opened his mouth, and bit directly into the edge of the cheap sandwich, tearing off a massive chunk of the bread and processed cheese.
Jarrod chewed the bite of the cheap sandwich. The sharp lines of his handsome face twisted into a deep grimace. The texture was rubbery, and the cheese tasted like pure plastic.
He forced his throat to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily.
“That,” Jarrod said, his voice rough, “is a direct insult to human taste buds.”
Caroline stared at him. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, angry jerks. Her hands curled into tight fists on her lap, fingernails digging into her palms.
“If it is so disgusting, give it back,” Caroline demanded, her voice shaking with frustration. “I have to stand on my feet for hours. I need the calories.”
Jarrod looked at her flushed, angry cheeks. A dark gleam of amusement flashed in his gray eyes. He held the remaining half of the sandwich out and pushed it directly toward her mouth.
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