Bound to the Bodyguard by Ashley Zakrzewski

Author:Ashley Zakrzewski [Zakrzewski, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Jerome

My knuckles whitened as I gripped the steering wheel, jaw set in grim determination. The speedometer needle was pushing further to the right, edging into territory that spelled recklessness. But I didn’t flinch. Time was a luxury I couldn’t afford, not with Raven’s life potentially hanging in the balance.

Come on, come on. I urged the car forward as if it could respond to my desperation. Hold on, Raven. I’m coming.

The landscape blurred past me, trees and fences merging into a continuous streak of green and brown. My mind replayed the last conversation I had with Raven, my voice a mixture of steely resolve and barely concealed anxiety. It was unlike me to show any hint of fear, which only served to fuel my own concern.

Suddenly, the familiar outline of Raven’s property loomed ahead. Without hesitation, I slammed my foot onto the brake; the tires screeching their protest as rubber burned against the asphalt. The high-pitched howl pierced the quiet countryside, sending birds scattering from the nearby trees.

“Damn it!” I cursed as the car fishtailed slightly before coming to an abrupt stop at the front entrance. I threw open the door, the metal clanging loudly in the silence that followed the echo of tortured tires.

The scent of burnt rubber hung thick in the air, mixing with the faint whiff of danger that seemed to emanate from the house itself. I shook my head, trying to clear it, to focus on the task at hand. I needed to get to her to ensure she was safe.

My boots hit the gravel with an urgency that matched the rapid drumming of my heart. I paused for a fraction of a second, allowing my trained eyes to sweep the area—left to right, then right to left—etching every detail into my mind. The overgrown pathway, the wind whispering through the trees, the distant rustle of leaves—all registered as potential threats.

“Nothing out of place... yet,” I muttered under my breath. My inner voice, a constant companion, echoed my thoughts. Stay sharp, Dawson. This isn’t a drill.

I approached the imposing iron fence, its spikes reaching towards the sky like the fingers of a giant trying to snatch at the clouds. I knew better than to waste precious seconds searching for an entry point; time was a luxury I couldn’t afford. With practiced ease, my hands found purchase on the cold metal, and I hoisted myself up with a fluidity that defied the bulk of my muscular frame.

“Come on, muscles, don’t fail me now,” I encouraged myself silently, feeling the strain in my biceps as we bore my weight.

The ascent was a dance of precision and power—each movement deliberate, each breath measured. At the apex of the fence, I paused, balancing effortlessly. For a moment, I was a statue cast in iron, a silent guardian against the backdrop of a darkening sky.

“Almost there, Raven,” I whispered, envisioning her face, fierce and beautiful, as if she could hear me. With a swift motion, I swung my legs over and landed on the other side with a soft thud that barely disturbed the stillness of the evening.

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