Chapter 732: Claire’s Husband
Claire was quiet.
Too quiet.
She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her hands clenched in her lap, her knuckles white. Her gaze was fixed on the road ahead, but I knew she wasn’t seeing it.
She was lost in thought, turning sothing over in her mind—sothing that terrified . Her breath ca in slow, controlled inhales, like she was fighting to keep herself from unraveling. Every so often, her fingers would twitch, as if she were imagining wrapping them around Natalya’s throat.
Yelena drove in silence, her grip on the wheel so tight her knuckles were bone-white. She didn’t speak, didn’t glance back at , but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw clenched every ti her eyes flicked toward Claire. The car humd beneath us, the engine a low, steady growl as we cut through the empty streets, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon and shadow.
Finally, Yelena broke the silence, her voice low but sharp. "Claire..." she said, her tone careful, like she was testing fragile ground. "Are you okay?"
Claire took a deep, shuddering breath, her fingers tightening around the edge of the seat. "Yeah," she said, her voice too steady, too controlled. "I’m fine."
But she wasn’t.
I could hear it—the thoughts she didn’t voice, the fear she didn’t let herself acknowledge. Her mind was a storm, and I reached out with my telepathy, just enough to catch the edges of her turmoil.
[I... I don’t know what’s happening...] [Why do I feel so afraid to lose Jack...?] [Even though we’ve only known each other for a few days...] [But this feeling is so... annoying.]
My chest tightened. She wasn’t just afraid. She was terrified. Not of Natalya, not of the Italians—of losing . And she didn’t understand it. Didn’t want to. Because it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t her.
We drove back to Yelena’s safe house, the warehouse looming in the darkness like a fortress. The car rolled to a stop inside, the engine cutting off with a final, exhausted sigh. We unloaded the guns and ammunition Natalya had sent—boxes of rounds, sleek black pistols, even a few rifles wrapped in oilcloth. Claire moved chanically, her hands steady, her expression distant. Yelena worked beside her, her usual smirk replaced by a quiet, deadly focus.
The warehouse was quiet except for the hum of Yelena’s laptop and the distant drip of water from a leaky pipe. Claire sat rigidly at the table, her fingers tracing the edge of her plate like she was morizing its shape. She hadn’t touched her food. Hadn’t looked at
since we left Natalya’s. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, with the kind of tension that made my skin prickle.
Yelena, on the other hand, was anything but quiet.
She leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, her dark eyes flicking between Claire and
with a smirk that promised trouble. "You’re both so tense," she purred, her voice dripping with amusent. "Like a couple of wound-up springs. Or maybe just wound up in general." She let out a low, throaty laugh, her fingers tapping idly against the table. "Claire, dorogaya, you look like you’re about to snap. And Jack—" Her gaze slid to , slow and deliberate, like a caress. "You look like you’re about to combust."
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "It’s been a long day."
"Mmm, I’ll say," Yelena humd, her lips curling into a smirk. She stood, stretching like a cat, her body arching just enough to make it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. "But you know what they say about stress, yes?" She stepped closer, her hips swaying with every movent, her fingers trailing along the back of my chair. "The best way to relieve it is to let go."
Claire’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t look up.
Yelena’s smirk deepened as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "Or maybe you just need a distraction," she murmured, her voice a velvet whisper. "Sothing to take your mind off things." Her fingers brushed against my shoulder, slow and deliberate, before sliding down my arm. "Or soone."
I tensed, my pulse kicking up despite myself. "Yelena."
"Hmm?" She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just offering, solnyshko," she purred, her voice dropping into sothing darker, sothing that sent a shiver down my spine. "You look like you could use it."
Claire’s fingers twitched against the table, but she still didn’t look up.
Yelena’s laughter was soft, knowing. She stepped back, her gaze sliding to Claire. "Or maybe she’s the one who needs it," she said, her voice teasing but edged with sothing sharper. "You’ve been avoiding him all night, Claire. Like he’s going to bite." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Or maybe you’re just afraid he will."
Claire’s head snapped up, her eyes burning with sothing raw and furious. "Shut up, Yelena."
Yelena just grinned, unfazed. "Or what?" she taunted, her voice light. "You’ll shoot ?" She laughed, stepping back with a flourish. "Please. We both know you’d miss."
Claire’s breath hitched, but she didn’t deny it.
Yelena’s gaze slid back to , her smirk turning wicked. "You know," she said, her voice dropping into sothing slower, sothing that felt like a promise, "if you ever get tired of playing the knight in shining armor..." She leaned in again, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered, "My door is always unlocked."
Then she pulled back, her laughter ringing through the warehouse as she sauntered away, her hips swaying with every step.
Claire’s fingers curled into fists on the table.
I exhaled, my pulse still racing.
Yelena turned back, her smirk never fading. "Let
tell you a secret," she said, her voice dripping with amusent. "She’s divorced." She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against my arm again. "Her husband was a professor. Very smart. Very boring." Her lips curled into a smirk. "And very unfaithful."
Claire’s breath hitched, but she didn’t react.
Yelena’s voice dropped into sothing softer, sothing almost sympathetic. "She ca ho early from a mission once. Found him in their bed with one of his students." She shook her head, her expression darkening for just a second. "n like that don’t deserve won like her."
Then her smirk returned, her voice turning teasing again. "But you?" She leaned in, her gaze locking onto mine. "You might have a chance." She stepped back, her laughter ringing through the air. "If you can keep up."
Claire finally looked at , her expression unreadable.
Yelena winked. "Or, if you can’t hold out..." She gestured toward the hallway, her voice dropping into sothing darker. "My room is unlocked." Then she laughed, stepping away with a chuckle. "Just kidding."
But the way she looked at
made it clear she wasn’t.
Not entirely.
The warehouse was quiet except for the distant drip of water from a leaky pipe. Claire sat rigidly at the table, her fingers tracing the edge of her plate like she was morizing its shape.
She hadn’t touched her food. Hadn’t looked at
since we left Natalya’s. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, with the kind of tension that made my skin prickle.
Reviews
All reviews (0)