Page 69 of Jenna's Protector
“Drones or a recon mission?” Ethan, the leader of Charlie team, speaks up.
“Both.” CJ stops his pacing and glances at the schematics of thebuilding displayed on all the monitors in the room. “Mitzy’s drones are the best to see if anyone is still there and to get a basic lay of the land, but we need boots on the ground. Drones first to see who’s there. Then Charlie team. We’ll go in at night and gather what intel we can.”
Murmurs of agreement fill the room as they start to plan.
“Mitzy, Stitch, and Jeb,” CJ says, “the three of you work on mapping out the compound and identifying potential entry points. Ethan, you take care of logistics—gear, transportation, contingencies.”
“Copy that.”
“Isn’t it risky—showing our hand like this?” I can’t help but step up and insert a voice of caution into the mix. “I’m worried us poking around is going to raise questions we don’t want them asking.”
“We’ll be discreet. They won’t know we’re on to them.” CJ’s gruff voice fills the room. “It’s a risk we have to take. The drones can give us a lot of intel, but boots on the ground is always superior.”
They’re the experts, but I feel as if this is our first mistake.
TWENTY-FOUR
Jenna
The nightmares continue,as they have every night this week. I’m back in that cold, sterile room, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, with the sickly-sweet scent of antiseptic burning my nostrils. Lucian stands before me, his face a mask of cruel indifference.
“Your performance has been unsatisfactory.” His voice drips with disdain. “How do you expect to be a successful model if you refuse to follow the simplest commands?”
I try to defend myself, but my tongue feels like lead in my mouth. Lucian’s iron will and unyielding gaze rob me of my voice.
“You leave me no choice.” He shakes his head in mock disappointment. “You must learn the consequences of disobedience.”
Two of his burly guards appear from the shadows, their faces devoid of emotion. They grab me roughly by the arms, their fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise. They drag me down a long, narrow hallway, where the air grows colder with each step, and the walls press in on me.
I can’t breathe.
I know where they’re taking me.
The solitary detention cell.
I’ve managed to avoid it since my arrival, but the whispers of the other girls who’ve spent time down here echo in my mind. Tales of darkness, isolation, and a silence so deep it threatens to swallow you whole. It’s the thing nightmares are made of.
They toss me into a small, dark room, the door slamming shut behind me with a sickening thud. I pound on the unyielding metal, my screams echoing in the suffocating darkness.
“Lucian, please!” I beg and scream and beg some more. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
No one comes.
No one cares.
The dream shifts, and I’m on a cold metal table, my body exposed.
The lingerie savagely ripped from my body. Thick leather straps bind my wrists and ankles. The man who bought me looms over me, his face hidden in shadow. The sharp sting of a needle pierces my skin, a searing pain etching indelible marks into my flesh.
"This is to mark you as mine," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. He takes out a small tattoo gun and a bottle of ink. A guard holds my arm steady as the man who bought me begins to tattoo a small, intricate design onto the inside of my wrist. The pain is sharp, but I don't make a sound. I won't give him the satisfaction.
"There," he says, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Now, you belong to me."
I jolt awake, my heart pounding and my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The nightmare clings to the edges of my consciousness, but the warmth of Carter’s body beside me pulls me back to reality.
I curl into him, his arm draped protectively over my waist, and try to steady my breathing.
“Another nightmare?” His voice is thick with sleep, his fingers combing through my tangled hair.