Page 23 of Snowed in with the Bodyguard

Before I can protest, he’s gone, his footsteps disappearing into the quiet of the cabin. I take a deep breath, the heat of the fire beginning to chase away the lingering chill in my bones. Opening the water bottle, I quickly swallow the tablets. My leg throbs, but the pain is manageable now, a dull ache that serves as a reminder of how close we came to losing everything.

Jack returns minutes later, his face grim but determined. “The property’s secure. No signs of anyone following us.”

Relief floods through me, and I sink deeper into the sofa. “What now?”

“Now,” he says, crouching beside me again, “we regroup. Gabriel will contact us when the next steps are in place. Until then, you rest, and I keep watch.”

“Jack,” I say softly, reaching for his hand. He takes it without hesitation, his fingers warm and strong around mine. “Thank you.”

His eyes soften, the hard edges of his expression giving way to something gentler. “Always, Hollyberry.”

Chapter 10

Jack

The safe house is stocked to the brim, just like Gabriel promised—food, water, medical supplies, even extra clothes. Everything we need to stay hidden and survive.

I sit on the floor beside the sofa, resting my head against the armrest. The faint rise and fall of Holly’s chest reassures me, but it’s not enough to calm the storm raging inside me. Every part of me wants to roar in frustration—at the bastards who hurt her, at myself for not taking them out sooner, at the world for forcing her into this mess.

The room settles into a calm stillness, broken only by the crackling fire and the soft sound of Holly’s breathing. My mind refuses to quiet, though. It never does in moments like this. Planning, assessing, running through the events that brought us here—all of it is on an endless loop.

Holly’s hand is wrapped in mine, her grip light but deliberate. Even in sleep, she doesn’t let go. The small gesture is enough to crack through my hardened edges, the walls I’ve spent years perfecting.

It’s just her and me and the quiet promise of something better waiting on the other side of all this chaos. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets there. Safe. Whole. With me by her side.

I watch her for a moment, her profile illuminated by the firelight. Her face is soft, the tension she’s carried over the past few days finally giving way to exhaustion. Her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she breathes evenly in her sleep.

She’s been through hell—more than anyone should have to endure—yet she’s still here, still fighting. I’ve seen men break under less, but Holly? She’s unshakable.

This life she’s been thrust into—it’s not fair. She’s had everything ripped away from her, and she’s still standing. Still fighting. Still smiling at me like I’m something more than the man who’s dragged her from one safe house to the next.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I scrub at the fatigue threatening to creep in. I force myself to relax, but it’s a losing battle. My mind races through scenarios, each one worse than the last. Every snap of a branch, every gust of wind outside, feels like a threat. I’ve been trained for this—staying alert, keeping control, being ready for the worst—but it’s different now. It’s Holly.

I adjust the blanket over her, ensuring her injured leg is propped up just right. Every instinct in me screams to keep moving, to double-check the perimeter, to reinforce the locks, but I stay rooted here. For her.

The fire dims slightly, the embers glowing faintly as they shift. I sigh and close my eyes for a minute. I must drift off becausewhen I open them again, the clock on the wall tells me it’s almost midnight.

Holly stirs, her brow furrowing before her eyes flicker open. She looks at me groggily. “Jack,” she murmurs. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be, Hollyberry?”

Her lips curve into a faint smile, but something lurks behind her eyes—doubt or maybe fear.

“Jack…” She hesitates, her fingers tightening around mine. “What if they find us again?”

“They won’t,” I say firmly, leaning closer so she can see the conviction on my face. “Gabriel’s safe house is off every grid. No one’s getting to us here. How’re you feeling?”

She blinks a few times, then lets out a small sigh. “I’m okay.” Her gaze drops to her leg, and she winces slightly, as if the sight of the bandage is worse than the pain itself.

“It’s holding,” I reassure her. “No complications. Just needs time.” I pause, shaking my head. “I should’ve taken those bastards out before they even had a chance to fire. You shouldn’t have been hurt.”

“Jack,” she says softly, squeezing my hand. “You were fucking awesome. Aside from the whole bad men with a vendetta and getting shot parts, it was kind of hot watching you morph into Super SEAL mode.”

Her dark humor is so unexpected that I burst out laughing. This is what I need in my life.She’swhat I need. What I want. Her sunshine in the darkest of times, looking danger in the eye and finding a way to make me laugh when the world feels like it’s closing in. She’s seen me at my best and worst and embracedevery part of me. It’s humbling, and I may be a selfish bastard, but I’m not letting her go.

I grip her hand a little tighter, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Yeah, well, remind me to work on my timing. Could’ve done without the audience and the bullets.”

“Whatever,” she scoffs, waving her hand, her hazel eyes teasing. “You’re still my hero.”

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