Alle Kapitel von Pucking the Captain: Kapitel 41 – Kapitel 50

The freezing wind whipped through the dense pines, stinging the fresh, bleeding cut on my shoulder, but I barely felt it because my entire world had narrowed down to the psychotic, grinning face of Derek Thorne. He was standing in the moonlight, his hockey-bro facade completely stripped away to reveal the sadistic, unhinged killer underneath, and the bloody hunting knife in his right hand was dripping onto the snow. "You look surprised, Captain," Derek sneered, his breath pluming in the freezing air as he took a slow, deliberate step toward me. "Did you really think Coach was just some old man chewing tobacco and drawing up power plays? He’s been running the underground betting syndicate for a decade, Jaxson. I’ve been breaking legs and collecting debts for him since we were freshmen. You and your pretty little rookie just became a massive liability to the business."My grip on the steel tire iron tightened until my bruised knuckles felt like they were going to snap, my chest heavi

The freezing wind howled through the pines, whipping snow into a blinding frenzy, but I didn’t feel the cold, and I didn’t feel the blinding agony in my shoulder. All I felt was the singular, terrifying instinct to keep the monster in front of me from pulling the trigger. I exploded forward, my boots slipping in the bloody slush, closing the twenty-foot gap in a fraction of a second. Coach’s eyes widened in genuine shock, his finger jerking on the trigger just as I hit him. The shotgun roared, a deafening, concussive blast that shattered the frozen air, but the buckshot tore through the thick trunk of the oak tree just inches from my head, showering my face in splintered wood and bark. The recoil of the massive gun threw Coach off balance, and I used that split second of momentum to drop my shoulder and drive him backward into the deep snow. We hit the ground hard, the breath exploding from his lungs in a wet, ragged gasp. The shotgun flew from his grip, skidding across the ice a

The blinking green light on the thick, black plastic strapped to my right ankle was the only thing reminding me that I wasn’t just a prisoner in my own life; I was a liability on a leash. I sat on the edge of the stiff, extra-long twin mattress in Room 412 of the university’s newly designated "secure" honors dorm, my eyes locked on the heavy oak door, but my brain was completely short-circuiting. I could hear the faint, muffled squeak of rubber soles pacing back and forth in the hallway. The private security guard. He was standing exactly ten feet away, paid by the university’s paranoid board of directors to make sure I didn’t leave, and more importantly, to make sure Jaxson didn’t get in. The physical separation was a special kind of torture. For three weeks, my entire world had been Jaxson’s scent, the heavy weight of his arm over my waist, the rough scrape of his stubble against my neck. Now, I was trapped in a sterile, cinderblock dorm room that smelled like lemon pledge and

The words written on the back of the index card burned into my retinas, sharp and unforgiving, and the air in the dorm room suddenly felt too thin to breathe. He can't protect you through a screen, Jules, but I can see you right now.My heart slammed against my ribs with such violent force that my vision actually swam with black spots. I slowly, agonizingly, lifted my gaze from the card to the ceiling. Right above my bed, nestled in the cheap white plastic of the smoke detector, was a tiny, faint red LED light. It was blinking. A slow, steady, rhythmic pulse that matched the terrified, frantic beating of my own heart. I didn't move. I didn't gasp, and I didn't scream, because if Roman was watching me right now, if he had audio, any sudden reaction would tell him that I knew. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the card, but I forced myself to walk calmly over to my desk, sit down in the squeaky rolling chair, and open my laptop. I needed to look like I was just st

The blue electrical arcs of the taser snapped violently in the dim hallway, casting a sickly, strobing light over Roman’s cold, dead eyes. He was standing between us and the only exit, the heavy metal door clicked shut behind him, and the unconscious, bleeding body of the real security guard was a grim reminder of exactly what this man was capable of. My chest was heaving, my lungs burning from the chokehold I’d just escaped, and my bad wrist was throbbing with a sickening, fiery agony, but I kept my body angled firmly in front of a sobbing, terrified Allie. In my right hand, hidden behind my leg, my fingers were still locked in a white-knuckled grip around the bloody trauma shears. "Hand over the burner phone, Julian," Roman repeated, his voice smooth and entirely devoid of empathy as he took another slow, deliberate step forward. "You’re a smart kid. You know you can’t outfight me, and you definitely can’t outrun a 50,000-volt shock. Give me the device, and I’ll let the nurse wa