Chapter Seven
Charlie
The water has gone lukewarm by the time Jack finally stills inside me, holding me tight against his chest. I don’t want to move.
I don’t want this moment to end. If I could freeze time, I would stay right here.
In his arms, wrapped in his strength, cocooned in this tiny cabin where the world can’t find me.
But the shrill buzz of his phone breaks the spell.
Jack mutters a curse, resting his forehead briefly against mine before lifting me gently from the water. He wraps me in a towel, tucking it snugly around me, then grabs his jeans off the floor and fishes out the phone.
His expression hardens instantly.
“Steele,” he answers, his tone clipped, all business. The contrast between the man who just kissed every inch of me and the soldier barking into a phone is so sharp it makes me ache.
I can’t make out all of what’s being said, but the urgency in his voice is clear. His brows pull together, his jaw ticking. Finally, he exhales through his nose and says, “I’ll handle it.”
He slips the phone back into his pocket, eyes finding mine. “I’ve got to take this,” he says gruffly. “Home office. Won’t be long.”
The sudden formality in his voice makes my stomach twist.
Before I can reply, he cups my chin, his thumb brushing lightly across my damp cheek. “Don’t go anywhere without me. Understood, princess?”
I nod, though my throat feels tight.
“Good girl.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips, then strides out, the door clicking shut behind him.
And just like that, the silence swallows me.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, clutching the towel tighter around me. The quiet feels different now—thicker, heavier, pressing down on me in ways I can’t explain. My thoughts start to unravel, colliding and spiraling until my chest grows tight.
Do I really have to go back?
Back to the cameras. The bodyguards. The constant eyes on me. Back to smiling until my cheeks ach, to pretending I’m fine when I’m not. Back to being a piece in my father’s political machine.
The very thought makes my skin crawl.
I drag in a shaky breath, but it doesn’t feel like enough. My lungs squeeze, my pulse kicking up erratically. My hands tremble as I clutch the towel, my vision narrowing, edges blurring.
Not again.
I thought I left this behind when I ran. The attacks…the panic that used to come whenever I felt too cornered, too trapped. But it’s back now, crashing over me like a wave I can’t outrun.
I press a hand to my chest, trying to breathe.
In. Out. That’s what my therapist said.
But the air catches in my throat, shallow and jagged.
My eyes sting with tears that I try hard to contain. “I can’t go back. I can’t…” I whisper to myself, my voice fading into the silence.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my palms hard against them like I can physically shut out the storm inside me. Jack’s voice echoes in my head. “Don’t go anywhere without me.”
But right now, the four walls of this cabin feel like they’re closing in, the silence pressing against my ribs, my lungs too tight to fill. I can’t breathe in here.
I just need air. Just need a minute.
I promise myself I won’t go far. Just outside. Just long enough to calm down. Then I’ll come back before Jack even notices I was gone.
I throw on his shirt again, the hem brushing my thighs.
I grab my camera as an afterthought and tiptoe to the door.
Jack is nowhere in sight, and for a moment, I wonder if I really should do this.
My hand hovers over the knob for a moment, guilt prickling at me.
Then another wave of panic squeezes my chest, and that’s all it takes.
I slip outside into the cool evening air.
The woods smell of pine and damp earth, a clean sharpness that fills my lungs better than the stale cabin air ever could. The crunch of leaves under my bare feet is oddly grounding, and I wrap my arms around myself, walking deeper into the trees.
I won’t go far. Just a few minutes.
Each step untangles a knot in my chest. The panic begins to ease, though the ache in my ribs lingers. My camera bounces gently against my side where I’ve slung it over my shoulder, a comfort I didn’t even realize I needed until now.
I pause, lifting it and snapping a quick shot of the trees, their branches tangled together like lace against the fading sky. The familiar click is soothing, the lens framing the world into something manageable, something I can control.
But when the sound echoes too loudly in the quiet woods, I freeze.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
I glance around, my heart lurching. The forest is still, shadows lengthening, the kind of silence that feels…wrong.
I tell myself I’m being paranoid, that it’s just the anxiety talking, but then I hear a twig snapping behind me.
My stomach plunges.
I turn slowly, my breath catching. The trees loom tall, their shadows swallowing the path back to the cabin. My pulse pounds so hard it drowns out everything else.
“Jack?” I whisper, though I know deep down in my heart that he wouldn’t creep up on me like this.
The next sound is faster, closer. Heavy. Deliberate.
Before I can react, an arm snakes around me from behind, crushing my chest. A gloved hand clamps over my mouth, smothering my scream.
Panic explodes in me like dynamite. My camera slips from my shoulder, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. I thrash, kicking, clawing, but the man holding me is huge, his strength unyielding.
“Got you,” a rough voice growls against my ear. The reek of stale cigarettes and sweat hits my nose, making me gag.
I try to bite, but his grip tightens, his arm squeezing so hard around my ribs I can barely draw breath.
“Shh. Don’t make this harder,” he hisses. “Your bodyguard isn’t here to save you this time, sweetheart.”
The world tilts, fear blinding me. All I can think to do is pray for Jack to find me.
Please, Jack…