Chapter 183
[ 494 words ]
Chapter 183:
“I am not your prisoner!” Caroline hissed into the phone, her gray eyes flashing with fury. “I am an adult. I can have a conversation with a coworker without asking for your permission!”
“You are mine,” Jarrod stated brutally. The raw, obsessive devotion in his voice sent a shockwave straight to her core. “From the second you signed that paper, you lost the right to look at anyone else.”
Caroline opened her mouth to scream back at him.
Suddenly, a massive, earth-shattering explosion detonated on his end of the line.
The sound was so violent it made Caroline physically flinch. The speaker cracked with static.
𝗥e𝘢𝗱 𝘁𝗁𝗲 𝘭а𝘁𝖾𝘴t t𝗿е𝗻𝘥s o𝗇 𝗀а𝗹ոо𝘃e𝗅s.cо𝗺
“Jarrod!” Caroline screamed, her anger instantly vaporizing into pure, blinding terror. “Jarrod, answer me!”
Dead silence.
Three seconds later, she heard the sound of heavy, ragged breathing.
“I’m fine,” Jarrod grunted. His voice was strained, moving rapidly. The possessive husband was gone; the Tier-1 commander had taken over.
“Listen to me,” Jarrod spoke with terrifying speed. “My unit is crossing the wire. We are going dark. I am cutting all comms. I will be completely unreachable for the next few days.”
Caroline’s chest seized. “Wait—”
“Stay in the penthouse,” Jarrod commanded, his voice fading as the wind picked up. “Trust no one. If anything happens, you go straight to Bell. Do not leave the perimeter.”
“Jarrod, please be care—”
A sharp, electronic click severed the connection.
The line went dead.
Caroline stood in the bathroom stall, staring at the black screen. The phone was burning hot in her hand.
Her legs gave out. She slid down the metal partition and hit the tile floor. She pulled her knees to her chest.
Ten minutes ago, she was furious at his control. Now the thought of him bleeding out in some unnamed desert was tearing her apart from the inside.
She hated the cage he had built around her. But as she sat shivering on the cold floor, she realized the most terrifying truth of all: she was completely, hopelessly terrified of living in a world where he didn’t come back.
Midnight.
The master bedroom of the penthouse was completely swallowed in darkness.
Caroline lay in the exact center of the massive king-size bed. She was wrapped tightly in the deep gray silk sheets, surrounded by the heavy, lingering scent of Jarrod’s cedarwood cologne.
She stared at the ceiling. Her eyes were wide open, burning with exhaustion, but her brain refused to shut down.
Her right hand was clamped around the heavy, black encrypted satellite phone. The screen remained a dead, terrifying black.
Every time she closed her eyes, the deafening sound of that explosion echoed in her skull. She imagined his massive body being thrown by the blast. She imagined him bleeding out somewhere thousands of miles away, unable to call for help.
The small black dog stirred from its nest of blankets on the floor beside the bed. It limped over to her, its bandaged hind leg dragging slightly with each step, and rested its chin on the edge of the mattress, letting out a soft, concerned whine.
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