Chapter 268
[ 499 words ]
Chapter 268:
Her breathing was shallow. Her mind was still reeling from the dark truth about the VIP lounge. The realization that she had walked blindly into an organ trafficking hub, combined with Jarrod’s twisted, desperate confession, made her stomach twist into tight knots.
The vehicle came to a complete halt.
K.C. Bell stepped out from the driver’s seat. He opened the heavy rear door, keeping his eyes strictly fixed on the gray concrete floor, giving them absolute privacy.
Jarrod stepped out first. His tall, broad frame blocked the harsh fluorescent lights of the garage.
He turned around and extended a large, scarred hand toward Caroline. It was an unspoken demand for her compliance.
Caroline hesitated for a fraction of a second. She looked at his hand, then placed her smaller fingers into his palm. She felt the rough calluses that, just hours ago, had been dealing lethal violence to cartel members.
He pulled her out of the SUV.
Instantly, his arm wrapped around her waist. He pulled her flush against his side, his grip territorial and firm, as they walked toward the private elevator.
The steel elevator doors slid shut, enclosing them in a mirrored box.
The silence between them was incredibly heavy. The air was thick with unresolved tension, burnt cordite, and lingering adrenaline.
The doors chimed open at the penthouse level.
𝘋іѕс𝗼𝘃𝖾𝘳 𝗵і𝘥𝘥е𝗇 𝗀emѕ 𝗼𝗇 g𝗮𝗅ո𝘰v𝖾𝗹𝗌.𝘤o𝘮
They stepped into the vast, minimalist living room. It was bathed in the cold, silver light of the Washington, D.C., night skyline pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Caroline immediately stepped out of his embrace. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the sudden chill of the central air conditioning against her bare arms through her torn shirt.
Jarrod watched her closely. His dark eyes tracked her every movement like a predator ensuring its prey was securely back in the cage.
He walked over to the marble bar. He poured a glass of neat bourbon and downed it in one swift motion. The amber liquid burned down his throat, helping to burn away the residual panic of almost losing her tonight.
Caroline walked toward the kitchen island. Her throat was parched. She intended to grab a glass of ice water to soothe her dry mouth. Her lower lip throbbed with a dull ache, a physical reminder of the night’s earlier violence.
Suddenly, a sharp, cheerful ringtone shattered the heavy silence of the penthouse.
Caroline froze.
Her eyes darted to her canvas bag resting on the marble counter. She knew exactly who might be calling at this hour.
Jarrod’s entire demeanor changed in a microsecond.
He slammed the empty glass onto the bar counter with a dangerous thud, his predator instincts fully reawakened.
Before Caroline could take a single step, Jarrod covered the distance between them in three long strides. He reached the canvas bag first.
He pulled the phone out. The bright screen illuminated his harsh, bruised features.
The name displayed on the screen was Dr. Julian Croft.
The temperature in the room plummeted below freezing. Jarrod’s jaw clenched so hard a thick muscle ticked violently in his cheek. His eyes turned into chips of black ice.
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