Chapter 295
He glanced at the three guys standing by the car, then locked eyes with Roger. “Take them home.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
His words cut through the air, sharp and commanding. There was no room for argument.
Roger, clearly terrified, nodded like his life depended on it. “Got it.”
Six cars pulled away, rolling out toward their destination.
Aiden and the others followed close behind, faces drawn and serious, like they were heading into
battle.
Inside the black Bentley, the silence was thick.
Patricia stared out the window, lost in her worries about Jackson.
Oliver, on the other hand, was pissed.
Patricia was always ready to drop everything for Jackson or Marian. In her world, those two always
came first.
Oliver got it–Jackson had protected her through hell and back when they were younger. By now, they weren’t just colleagues. They were family.
But understanding didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
“When this is over, we need to talk,” he said, breaking the silence.
Patricia took a slow breath. “Okay.”
***
Jackson was sprawled out in the front seat, sucking on a lollipop and playing a game on his phone, when someone knocked on his window. He frowned, instantly alert.
All those years in the military had taught him better than to trust strangers, especially in the middle of
nowhere.
But whoever was outside wouldn’t give up.
After a moment, Jackson grabbed a mask from the center console, slipped it on, and cracked the window–just enough to hear.
“What’s up?”
“Sir, I really need a ride to the city. There are no cars out here. Can you help me? I’ll pay you whatever
you want.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. Did he look like a taxi driver?
“I’m waiting for someone. Not interested.”
“Please, sir, I’m desperate. My mother just fell and got taken to the hospital. I’m begging you.” The guy’s voice shook with urgency.
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Chapter 295
For a split second, Jackson almost gave in.
But his gut told him something was off.
He shut the window, ignoring the desperate knocking.
Trust is good, but caution’s better.
Who’d show up in the middle of nowhere, asking for help out of the blue? No way.
The knocking dragged on for nearly half an hour. Finally, the guy wandered off.
Jackson got out of the car to pee.
He’d only taken a few steps when figures closed in behind him.
A slow, cold grin tugged at his lips.
He muttered, “Knew it.”
“What do you want?” He zipped up and turned around to face them.
No words, just action–the group charged in.
Jackson didn’t stick around to fight. He took off, sprinting through the trees, hitting the SOS button on his watch as he ran.
He sent the alert to Patricia.
**
Meanwhile, Theo was slouched in the back of a black BMW, just off a long night of drinking. Eyes closed, he looked drained, a frown still etched between his brows.
They were headed back to his apartment when his phone rang.
He answered, listening for a moment.
Theo’s voice was ice cold. “Take him out.”
Behind the wheel, Aiden’s grip tightened. He’d caught the name Jackson during the call.
At the next red light, Aiden quickly fired off a text.
***
November’s wind whipped through the hills.
Jackson tore through the woods, running hard toward the shimmer of headlights on the highway.
The farther he ran, the more he realized something was off.
The group behind him wasn’t trying to catch him. They were pushing him, steering him somewhere specific.
And in that instant, it all clicked.
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