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Chapter 25

last update Veröffentlichungsdatum: 06.07.2026 18:06:45

I hadn’t slept more than two hours a night since the blog post dropped, and the sheer, crushing exhaustion was starting to fray the edges of my sanity.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the hateful comments, the flashing cameras, and the terrified look on Jules’s face when his mother called, so I just stopped sleeping altogether.

Instead, I went into full, feral-protection mode, convincing myself that if I just controlled every single variable in his environment, I could keep the cruel world
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  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 52

    The heavy metal doors of the transport van slammed shut with a deafening, final clang, plunging us into absolute, suffocating darkness. The engine roared to life beneath us, vibrating through the ribbed steel floor and rattling my teeth, while the sharp, cloying stench of diesel fuel and stale copper filled my nose. They had thrown us into the back like cargo, my shoulder slamming hard against the wheel well, and the thick, industrial zip-ties biting into my wrists were sending blinding, white-hot spikes of agony straight up my broken arm. I gasped, curling onto my side in the freezing dark, my chest heaving as the sheer, catastrophic weight of the last ten minutes finally crashed down on me. Jaxson had paid Silas. The man who had nearly beaten me into a coma, the man who had shattered my wrist and started this entire bloody nightmare, had been hired by my own boyfriend. "Jules," Jaxson’s voice was a ragged, desperate rasp in the pitch black, and I felt the heavy, shifting weight

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 51

    The freezing mud soaking through my jeans felt like ice, but it was absolutely nothing compared to the hollow, suffocating void that had just ripped open in the center of my chest. I stood there in the dark, the heavy, rhythmic dripping of rainwater from the rusted cars above us echoing like a ticking clock, and I just stared at Jaxson’s broad, rigid back. My bad wrist, encased in its heavy fiberglass cast, was throbbing with a sickening, fiery agony that pulsed in perfect time with my racing heart. Every time I moved my fingers, I felt the ghost of Silas Thorne’s stick snapping against my bones, and now, the man I loved—the man who had just bled for me, killed for me, and sworn to burn the world down for me—was standing in silence while his father accused him of orchestrating it."Jax," I whispered, my voice trembling so violently it barely carried over the wind. I took a slow, agonizing step forward, my boots squelching in the oily puddles. "Jax, look at me. Tell me it’s a lie. T

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 50

    The barrel of the tactical shotgun was a dark, unblinking eye staring right through my chest, but it was the face of the man holding it that made the blood freeze in my veins. David Mercer looked like a ghost of the man standing in front of me, an older, rougher, infinitely more cruel version of Jaxson. He had the same sharp jawline, the same heavy stubble, and the exact same icy blue eyes, but where Jaxson’s gaze was a fierce, protective fire, his father’s eyes were dead, hollow, and completely devoid of humanity. The heavy, suffocating silence of the towing yard was broken only by the steady, rhythmic dripping of rainwater from the rusted chassis of the stacked cars above us, and the sheer, terrifying reality that the man who had abandoned my boyfriend was now trying to kill him."You always were too slow on the draw, Jaxson," David said, his gravelly voice dripping with a sadistic, mocking amusement that made my stomach violently heave. He didn't even look at me or Allie, who was

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 49

    The harsh, bluish glow of the decrypted ledger felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest, sucking all the oxygen out of the cramped, leather-scented backseat of the stolen SUV. *David Mercer.* The name was typed in crisp, unforgiving black font right next to a seven-figure payout column, and the sheer, catastrophic reality of it made my blood run completely, utterly cold. I stared at the screen, my brain struggling to connect the dots, but the heavy, suffocating silence radiating from the man holding me told me everything I needed to know. Jaxson was completely rigid. The feral, possessive heat that had just been radiating off his massive frame, the heavy, aching arousal that had been pressing insistently against my core just seconds ago, had completely vanished, replaced by a terrifying, hollow stillness that made my heart ache. He wasn't looking at me; his blown-wide blue eyes were locked onto the glowing screen, staring at the name of the man who had walked out on h

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 48

    "You've got to be kidding me," I whispered, the freezing rain plastering my hair to my forehead as I stared at the sweet, shy pre-med sophomore holding a suppressed pistol to my boyfriend’s head. The sheer, absurd whiplash of the betrayal almost made me laugh, but the cold, dead look in Leo’s eyes killed the humor instantly. He wasn't just a syndicate cleaner; he was the mole who had been feeding them my schedule, my dorm layout, and my weaknesses since the day we met."Hand over the phone, Jules," Roman wheezed from behind me, pressing the barrel of his own gun into my spine. "Leo is a lot less patient than I am, and he already put a bullet in your captain's shoulder before we tranq'd him. Don't make him finish the job."I looked at Jaxson. He was sitting on the wooden crate, his hands zip-tied behind his back, a dark stain of blood blooming on his left bicep. But his blue eyes weren't focused on the gun, or on Leo, or on Roman. They were locked entirely on me, blazing with a fer

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 47

    The freezing wind howling across the campus quad whipped my soaked t-shirt against my shivering skin, but I didn’t feel the cold. All I could feel was the heavy, terrifying weight of the dead coach’s phone in my right hand, hovering just inches above the black, rushing water of the storm drain. Roman’s blistered, chemical-burned face was twisted into a mask of pure, sadistic fury, and the suppressed barrel of his pistol was still pressed so hard against Allie’s temple that the skin was turning stark white. She was sobbing quietly, her chest heaving in erratic, panicked jerks, but I kept my eyes locked entirely on the syndicate cleaner. "Two seconds, Roman," I repeated, my voice trembling but my chin tilting up in that stubborn, bratty defiance that Jaxson had practically trained into me. "Call the van. Tell them to let him go, or I drop it down the drain and your boss loses three million dollars forever."Roman didn’t flinch. He just stared at me, his dark, dead eyes calculating th

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