Page 41 of Jenna's Protector
I’m struck by how right this feels as we stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Jenna isn’t just a witness or someone I’m trying to protect. She’s become something more, someone I care deeply about.
The sound of approaching footsteps reminds us that we’re not truly alone. We reluctantly separate, but I keep hold of her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Ready?” I ask, searching her eyes.
“As I’ll ever be.” Jenna takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.
While we had a moment to ourselves, Stitch was busy. She finishes a call and then approaches us.
“Meeting’s set,” she says, joining us as we bus our dishes and head outside.
The missing girls are still my priority, but now I have another reason to see this through—to help Jenna find closure and justice for what was done to her. As we climb back into the golf cart, Jenna’s hand finds mine again. Her grip is tight, terrified, and clingy, yet she remains resolute.
FOURTEEN
Jenna
The driveto the briefing room is a blur. The scenery outside the golf cart melts into a kaleidoscope of colors as Blake races through the compound. Just minutes ago, I was enjoying the tour, marveling at the advanced technology and the sense of purpose that seemed to permeate every corner of the facility.
But now, everything has changed.
A palpable sense of urgency fills the air, a crackle of energy that seems to emanate from Blake, Stitch, and Jeb. Their faces are set in grim determination. Their eyes narrow with a focus that sends a chill down my spine.
I can’t shake the feeling Sentinel is more thanjusta criminal organization—it’s a force to be reckoned with, a shadow that looms over everything and everyone.
How could what happened to me all those years ago be connected to the missing girls Carter is searching for now?
It seems impossible, a cruel twist that threatens to drag me back into the darkness I’ve fought so hard to escape.
The golf cart screeches to a halt, and we pile out, our feet hitting the pavement with a sense of purpose. Max stays by my side as if sensing I need to ground myself in the gentle reassurance of acanine friend. I run my fingers through the scruff at the back of his neck, staying in contact with him using my right hand while Carter takes my left. His grip is firm.
Confident.
The building looms before us, all glass, steel, and sharp angles, a monument to Guardian HRS’s cutting-edge technology and unwavering determination.
We approach the front door, and I hesitate. Carter squeezes my hand, then places his hand on the small of my back as if to urge me forward. That lasts for the briefest moment before he suddenly tugs me to his side and wraps an arm around my waist.
“I’m with you,” he whispers into my ear, saying exactly what I need him to say.
We enter together, me leaning against Carter while Max checks me with his soulful brown eyes and leans against my thigh.
I’m bracketed by strength, compassion, and maybe something more.
It’s too early to use the wordlove.Carter and I are still relative strangers—casual acquaintances who are quickly becoming more.
But I don’t care. It alreadyfeelslike more.
As we step inside, I’m struck by the energy that crackles through the air. Everywhere I look, people move with purpose, their eyes fixed on screens, and their fingers fly over keyboards. It’s as if they’re bound together by a single mission, a shared commitment to bringing justice to those who have been wronged.
But as we approach a briefing room, my heart pounds, and my palms slick with sweat.
I know what awaits me on the other side of that door—a barrage of questions and a demand to relive the most traumatic moments of my life in front of a room full of strangers. It was hard enough to share my story with Carter, a man I’ve grown to trust and care for deeply.
But this…
This feels like a violation, a stripping away of the carefully constructed walls I’ve built around my past.
The briefing room door looms before me, a portal to a world Ithought I’d left behind. Each painful beat of my heart is a reminder of the trauma I’ve tried so hard to forget.