I step away from the door, feeling a sick churning in my stomach. Carl’s right. If they find out who my traitorous sorority sister was talking about, it won’t be good for me. Just the thought of what happened with him makes me cringe. I was young and stupid.
It’s been a hell of a day. I’m emotionally exhausted. I can’t see Jude again tonight. I don’t even have enough left in me for a text convo. The door between our rooms is already locked from my side, so I put on my wireless Beats headphones, turn off the lights, and get into bed with some music.
Shit’s getting real. I knew Jude would have people looking into my past, just like I’ll have people looking into his. But hearing Carl talk about my sister’s pain in such a callous way was almost too much. I’d rather Jude and his campaign go after me than my family.
There’s not much to find out about me. I meant it when I told Jude I’m a good girl who always does the right thing. Carl’s investigator must be good, because he found the one thing I’ve done that I’m embarrassed by.
I hear a knocking sound, and I stare through the darkness at the outline of the door between my room and Jude’s. Knowing he’s on the other side of it brings on a barrage of emotions: fear, arousal, even anger. I can’t trust him; he’s my opponent. When I do something wrong, he has people ready to pounce on it, as I just overheard.
But then I remember the side of him I saw earlier. The emotionally wounded man who fought for his country and endured more than anyone should ever have to. The man who just lost a dear friend and holds himself responsible. The man who wanted to lose himself in me.
I wish I could lose myself in him, too. I came so close before Carl’s knock on his door interrupted us. I wish I could just be a woman and feel instead of being a political candidate who always has to think, plan and calculate.
I can’t, though. I’ve worked hard to get here, and I can’t let myself get derailed by a man, no matter how drawn I am to everything about him.
There’s another knock on the door. I feel a physical pull to open it and see his dark, sexy gaze on me again.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I turn up the volume on my headphones and ignore Jude, fighting every instinct I feel.
Being a good girl who does the right thing has never been so difficult.
Chapter 13
An ear-piercing boomhas me covering my ears before the brightest flash of white fills my eyes. I’m momentarily blinded, and my ears are ringing while I’m frozen to the ground.
A scorching gust of wind, filled with dust and debris, strikes my face, causing me to choke. I’m gasping for air, trying to focus my watering eyes.
As if I’m waking from a nightmare, the wailing of those around me slowly comes into existence, growing louder with each passing second.
Their blood-curdling cries bring me back from the shock and root me in the moment. I have no pain, there are no screams coming from my mouth—I’m unharmed.
The adrenaline in my system has my senses on hyperdrive, and the rapid pace of my heartbeat works it through my system in the blink of an eye.
It’s my duty to save my brothers. I’m the only one still standing that I can see through the haze of smoke and dirt floating through the air. Stepping over their bodies as they grab on to my legs and beg for my help, I head straight for the only window in the room.
The moonless night gives nothing away as I kneel down next to the window and attach the monocular night vision on the scope of my M16 rifle.
My mind is racing uncontrollably, but my hands are unbelievably steady as the night vision slides into place. There were only supposed to be ten insurgents in this area, with only basic weaponry. Something wasn’t right. The intel had been wrong, and all the men inside this room had suffered because of it.
It didn’t matter who fucked up; it was all on my shoulders to pick them off one by one or suffer—and to get my brothers out of here.
Lifting my rifle to the glassless window, I don’t dare look back and get distracted. Any moment now, armed men could burst through the door and finish what they started. Gunfire in the distance catches my attention as I maneuver the rifle in that direction, peering through the scope for any movement, and I begin to fire as soon as someone comes into view.
“Jude,” a voice calls out from behind me, but I ignore them—I have to.
Tiny fragments of dried mud are flying away from the building, bullets ricocheting only inches from my head.
“Jude,” a soft, sweet voice whispers. “Jude, wake up.”
“Fuckers!” I yell and keep firing. My attention’s on the bodies dropping as the bullets strike them and not on the voice trying to distract me. “Die!”
My eyes fly open, and I’m disoriented for a second.
