Page 75 of Jenna's Protector
As we leave the café, his protective presence by my side, I feel safe, but a bit of lingering anxiety stays with me. That night, the nightmares return in full force, each one more vivid and terrifying than the last.
I’m back at the compound, forced to run laps around the outer courtyard with the other girls in the pouring rain as punishment for some perceived slight. My lungs burn, and my legs ache, but I don’t dare stop, not with Lucian’s cruel gaze fixed upon me.
Sophia is there—in my dream—defying Lucian. She stopped running with the rest of us and went up to Lucian, screaming that what he was doing was wrong. She told him she wasn’t going to spend one more minute inside his prison.
All Lucian did was snap his fingers.
Before I could blink, those two guards appeared. They draggedSophia away. A week later, she returned, bruised and beaten, her fiery spirit extinguished.
In another nightmare, I’m at that final party, the one where I thought I was serving drinks. Sophia warns me to leave. She tells me we are being sold.
I didn’t believe her until I stood in front of a stranger who ripped the skimpy lingerie off my body and proclaimed that I belonged to him now.
That night, I was lucky.
I escaped.
But I never saw Sophia again.
The horror of my dreams wakes me each night. I scream and thrash in Carter’s arms. He holds me through the worst of it until his soothing words and gentle touch ease me back into a restless sleep.
Each morning, the weight of those nightmares clings to me, a lingering shadow that drains my strength and leaves me feeling hollow inside.
The memory of Sophia’s beaten body and the terror of that final party haunt my thoughts, making it hard to focus and hard to breathe.
During the day, I go through the motions, operating on autopilot. At night, the nightmares find me. They sap my strength, making every task feel monumental, every interaction a strain. I flinch at sudden noises, my heart racing as if I’m still trapped in those horrific memories.
And every night, they return in full force, relentless and unforgiving. The darkness brings no relief, only the resurgence of my deepest fears. Carter is always there, his presence calming, but even his strong arms can’t shield me from the horrors that replay in my mind. They’re a cruel reminder that my past is never truly behind me.
But I refuse to be ruled by fear.
TWENTY-SIX
Carter
It’s beena while since I was a beat cop, but the familiar weight of the gear and the cold steel of a rifle in my hands bring back memories. The skills are forever etched into my muscle memory.
As we gear up, I reflect on the invitation to join Charlie team to check out the compound. I’m grateful for the opportunity but determined not to let the Guardians overshadow my case.
They may want to bring Sentinel down, but I have four young women to save.
The days leading up to the reconnaissance operation are a blur of intense training and meticulous preparation. Blake guides me through the intricacies of Guardian’s tactical gear and drills me on coordinated movement until it becomes second nature. I push myself, knowing I need to prove my worth to Blake and his team.
I will not be a liability.
What I’m not used to are the R.U. F. U. S.’s. Robotic Ultra Functional Utility Specialists, affectionately called Rufi, the mechanical dogs move with an uncanny, predatory grace that sets my teeth on edge. I miss Max’s presence at my side, but glad he’s with Jenna, protecting her when I can’t.
The night before the mission, sleep eludes me. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind churning with dark thoughts and darker possibilities. This may be a recon mission, but the thought of setting foot in the place that haunts Jenna’s nightmares fills me with grim, cold anger.
I need to see it, to understand even a fraction of what she went through, to make sense of the horrors she’s shared with me. And I believe every word, every painful memory she’s trusted me with.
Dawn comes too soon, cold and gray. We muster in the early hours, the base a hive of activity despite the ungodly hour. There’s tension in the air, a coiled anticipation that sets my nerves on edge.
We go over the plan one last time, each checking and double-checking our gear. Weapons are cleaned and oiled. Equipment is tested and retested. There’s no room for error, not on a mission like this.
Blake catches my eye across the room, giving me a nod of reassurance. I return it, grateful for his steady presence and the unspoken support of his team.
The morning passes in a blur of final preparations and last-minute intel. We pour over the satellite imagery again, committing every detail of the compound’s layout to memory.