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Chapter 21 - The photograph

Autor: Augusta moon
last update Última actualización: 2025-11-21 11:24:27

The door didn’t just burst open—it detonated inward like it had been kicked with the force of a truck.

Cole grabbed me by the waist and yanked me behind an overturned boat just as two men in black stormed into the boathouse, guns raised. I could hear them breathing—short, sharp breaths like they were fueled by adrenaline or orders or both.

Cole fired one warning shot.

They scattered.

The sound exploded in my ears, ricocheting off the wooden walls so violently I felt it in my bones.

“Stay down,” Cole whispered.

I didn’t stay down.

My heart was pounding too loud. My thoughts were a storm I couldn’t quiet.

Another shot fired. Someone cursed. The men retreated, just enough for Cole to grab my wrist and pull me toward the back door.

We ran.

Branches slapped my face. Mud splashed under our shoes. Cole’s grip was iron-tight around my hand, his gun in the other, his breathing fast but determined.

We didn’t stop until we reached an abandoned campsite deep in the woods—two torn tents
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  • Married to my bodyguard    Chapter 54

    The morning sun filters through the narrow slits in the bunker walls, turning the cold concrete into something almost warm. I stretch out on the cot, my body still aching in the best way from last night, but my mind is already racing ahead. Cole’s side of the bed is empty again, but this time I don’t panic. I can hear him moving around in the main room—soft footsteps, the clink of metal. Probably checking supplies or whatever else he does to keep his hands busy when his head is too full. I swing my legs over the edge and pad barefoot across the floor. The air smells like salt and stale coffee; he must have boiled some water on that ancient stove. When I round the corner, there he is, leaning against the table with a mug in hand, staring at one of those faded maps like it holds the secrets to the universe. “Morning,” I say, keeping my voice light. He looks up, and for a second, his eyes soften in that way that makes my stomach flip. “Hey. Coffee’s hot if you want some.” I pour mys

  • Married to my bodyguard    Chapter 53

    I wake to cold sheets and the hollow echo of waves. The cot is too narrow for one person now that I know what it feels like to share it. My hand slides across the mattress, searching for the heat that was pressed against my back all night, but there’s nothing. Just the faint indent where his body had been. Panic spikes sharp and immediate. “Cole?” Silence answers. I’m on my feet before I’m fully awake, pulling on my jacket over the thin tank I slept in. The concrete floor is icy under bare feet as I move through the bunker. Morning light filters weakly through high slits in the walls, turning everything pale gold. I find him outside, on the rocky outcrop behind the base. He’s shirtless despite the chill, sweat gleaming on his skin as he moves through a brutal routine—punches snapping through empty air, footwork precise and deadly. Every strike is controlled violence, muscles coiling and releasing like he’s trying to beat something out of himself. I stop in the doorway and wat

  • Married to my bodyguard    Chapter 52

    The sea is restless tonight, black waves slapping the hull of the small boat as we cut through the darkness. Salt spray stings my face, but I don’t move from the railing. I need the cold to keep me sharp. Cole handles the wheel with steady hands, hood up, profile carved in moonlight. He hasn’t spoken in over an hour. Not since we left Luke’s dock in the pre-dawn gray, not since he pressed a hard, brief kiss to my mouth and told me to trust him one more time. I do. God help me, I do. “How much farther?” I call over the engine. He glances back, eyes unreadable. “Fifteen.” “That’s what you said fifteen minutes ago.” This time he smiles, small and real. “Almost there.” The engine throttles down. The boat drifts forward on momentum until a jagged silhouette rises from the water—cliffs, dense trees, no lights, no life. Just rock and shadow. Cole kills the engine completely. Silence rushes in, broken only by waves against stone. “This is it,” he says. I stare at the isl

  • Married to my bodyguard    Chapter 51

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  • Married to my bodyguard    Chapter 50

    The hospital air is thick with disinfectant and the faint metallic tang of blood that still clings to my memory. I’ve been in this chair for hours, eyes fixed on Cole’s chest as it rises and falls beneath the thin sheet. The bandage wraps high across his ribs, a stark white reminder of how close the bullet came. His face is no longer gray; color has returned to his lips, his jaw, the hollow of his throat. I can’t stop looking at him. I don’t want to. My phone buzzes against my palm. I know who it is without checking. I step into the corridor and answer. “You’re finished there,” my father says, voice smooth as polished steel. “Come home.” “No.” A pause, cold and measuring. “Maddox has done what he was hired to do. Leave him.” “He took a bullet meant for me.” “He was compensated for the risk.” “He wasn’t,” I say quietly. “Not for that.” “Don’t romanticize a bodyguard’s instincts, Ariana. Men like him fuck and leave. It’s what they’re good at.” The words are meant to cut. Inst

  • Married to my bodyguard    Chapter 49

    The first gunshot shatters the night. Everything happened in a blink, Marcus tried to shot us, but cole pushed him and we runway, now we don't know where we going. I don’t even realize I’m screaming until Cole’s hand clamps over my mouth and he yanks me backward, hard, into his chest. “Move,” he growls against my ear. We run. The safe house explodes into chaos behind us—shouts, boots pounding, glass shattering. The smell of gunpowder mixes with the salt-heavy air from the docks below. Cold wind slaps my face as we burst through the back exit and down the narrow metal stairs that rattle under our feet. “Cole—my father—” “He knows how to disappear,” Cole snaps. “You focus on staying alive.” Another shot rings out. Metal sparks explode inches from my head. I stumble, and Cole catches me instantly, hauling me up without slowing down. His grip is like iron, his body a shield as we sprint toward the dark maze of shipping containers ahead. The docks are a nightmare at nig

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