Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
She uses my hands as an anchor, pulling against them to haul herself into me. I catch her and squeeze her warm body against my chest, hoping to fuse us together, whispering my apologies in her ear and vowing to never let her leave my sight again.
Chapter 18
CAMI
I didn’t mean to send him to hell and back. I didn’t mean to scare the ever-loving shit out of him. I just needed to get away from the fight, and in my desperation I didn’t consider the risks. I didn’t consider Jake’s worry.
I staggered to the roadside and threw myself into a cab, blubbering my address as the cabbie drove away. I didn’t consider the fact that I had no money until he pulled up outside my building. He took pity on me. I was grateful, insisting on taking his details so I could forward the fare. He refused, passing me a tissue before demanding softly that I vacate his cab.
The violence in Jake is potent. It defies the control he usually exudes. Yet it’s like he’s planned each and every one of his moves without needing time to think. He’s like a machine.
I didn’t run away because Seb was there, or because I couldn’t watch Jake potentially get hurt. There were five of them after all, excluding Sebastian, all big and menacing, and I knew what was going to happen. I knew Jake would cut through them like a hot knife through butter. I ran away because I couldn’t watch it. He’s ex-SAS. A trained soldier. A trained killer. Why he joined the forces is understandable, given what happened to his parents. But he’s a natural warrior, even if his fight was personal.
What I can’t figure out, though, is why he’s no longer serving. He’s only thirty-five, so definitely not old enough to be retired. His gunshot wound hasn’t hampered his ability to fight, therefore I can’t imagine his aim has been compromised. There’s more to it; I just know there is. I know he has no family. But friends? I don’t even know where he lives.
I need to find out what makes Jake Sharp tick. The woman in that picture. The anxiety attack. The deep-seated hurt that he can’t hide. The mystery is growing each day. I pull away and he cups my cheeks with his palms, looking so relieved. “Come,” he says, standing and pulling me to my feet.
“What’s that?” I ask, watching as he collects a crumpled envelope with my bag and his phone.
“Nothing. Just some paperwork from the agency.” He scoops me up and lets us into my apartment. Carrying me into my bathroom, he sits me on the edge of the bath, fetches a cloth, and damps it under the hot tap. He kneels before me and starts to gently wipe at my tear-stained face, watching each of his light swipes as he does.
“How long have you been a bodyguard?” I ask quietly, starting with an easy question and one I hope will break him in gently before I try to delve further into that mind. Now that he’s given me something, I want more. I want everything that’s weighing him down.
He answers quickly and easily, still cleaning the dried tears from my face. “Four years.”
A quick mental calculation makes me more curious, because I know for sure no one would retire from the forces at thirty-one. Maybe they’d get promoted or move regiments, but not retire. There would have to be a reason, and a bullet wound that he seems fully recovered from couldn’t be it. “Why do you do it?”
He’s not so quick to answer this time, his hand definitely faltering as he glides the washcloth across my cheek. He seems to be thinking hard about how he should answer. “To feel useful.” He frowns, looking a little bewildered.
“Like you did when you served your country?” I ask.
He smiles a little, his eyes flicking to mine. “I guess so.”
I purse my lips, studying him, trying to keep the suspicion from my face. He’s agreeing with me, and my instinct is telling me he’s doing that because it’s easier than disagreeing and risking having me press him.
He once told me that he needs a purpose. His purpose was war, fighting the evils of the world. Something stopped him from being able to do that, something major, and now he finds his purpose in personal protection. It all makes me suspect that he would still be serving if he could. So why can’t he?
Whatever demons Jake has, he isn’t going to be free of them unless he wants to be. He’ll be held prisoner by them forever, and it’s infuriating that he seems okay with that. I’ve been in the deepest depths of hopelessness. I thought there was no way out. It was hard, but I found my way out. So can Jake.