Page 81 of Zero Hour

Pat sat at his desk,scanning his laptop, while she flipped through a magazine on the sofa, her fingers trembling as she turned the pages.

The minutes crawled by.

“When do you think he’ll reply?” Jasmine asked, her voice tight with uncertainty.

“I can’t say,”he said. “But we’ve already started running the number. If the phone is still active, we might get something.”

She sighed and set the magazine down.

Pat studied her. Struggling to keep it together, despite the nightmare she was living. It only solidified his respect for her. “Jasmine, you’re doing great. Stay strong.”

She gave a weak nod. “I’ll try.”

Giving in to the pull, he crossed the office in a few strides, then reached for her, gently pulling her to her feet.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured. It was the kind of promise he wouldn’t dare make unless he meant to damn well keep it.

Her lips parted, her breath hitching, but before she could say a word, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, just a slow, steady press of his lips against hers. A silent vow.

She melted into him, arms winding around his neck, her body molding against his like she belonged there.

When she pulled back, he tasted salt on her lips.

His heart clenched.

“Thank you, Patrick.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Fuck. That look in her eyes—trust, hope, need—shook him to his core.

She wasn’t just leaning on him. She believed in him. And for the first time in years, he felt something shift inside him.

Something he hadn’t let himself feel in a long, long time.

“You won’t have to find out,” he said roughly. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away the tear that was sliding down her cheek. “I swear to you, Jasmine, Ryan is coming home.”

His voice dropped to a lethal growl.

“And as for Al-Jabiri, one way or another, I’m taking that son of a bitch down.”

“Boss?” Anna poked her head into the room.

Pat released Jasmine, as she hurriedly swiped at her eyes.

“The phone number’s a burner. We couldn’t get anything else off it. There were no call records.”

Fuck.

He’d been hoping it would lead to the other bombers, but that would have been too easy. Al-Jabiri knew what his was doing.

“We’re still trying to get a trace on the phone’s last location.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Anna.”

She left, closing the door discreetly behind her.

It didn’t stay shut for long. Blade came in with an update from the FBI’s Counterterrorism Division.

“They found the Toyota Corolla abandoned near L'Enfant Plaza Station. Agents are combing through platform and security footage for any sign of Ryan or his captors.”

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