Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 232

Chapter 232 Running For My Own Life

I crouched behind the rusted bumper of a maintenance van. My knees pressed into the cold asphalt. Footsteps crunched on the gravel mere feet away.

Federal agents swept the visitor lot. Flashlights cut through the shadows, casting long, distorted shapes against the chain-link fence. Sterling trapped me. He knew my location. He wanted me in handcuffs before the sun set.

I left the stolen sedan in the second row. I did not possess the keys. I did not possess a weapon. I possessed a burner phone and the clothes on my back.

“Check the perimeter,” a deep voice commanded. The sound echoed in the quiet lot. “Sterling wants her breathing. Shoot to disable.”

I crawled on my hands and knees. The rough gravel tore the skin from my palms. I ignored the sting. I moved from the van to a towering stack of wooden shipping pallets near the garbage dumpsters. I pressed my back against the splintered wood. My chest heaved. I forced my breathing to slow.

I pulled the black burner phone from my pocket. I typed a single text message to Tristan.

North fence. Three minutes.

I shoved the phone deep into my jacket. I broke cover.

I sprinted. I abandoned stealth for speed. I crossed the open stretch of pavement between the dumpsters and the towering perimeter fence. A flashlight

beam caught my shadow.

“Hey! Stop right there!” an agent shouted.

I hit the chain-link fence. I curled my fingers through the metal diamonds. I climbed. The wire bit into my hands. My boots slipped on the metal. I pushed upward. Sirens wailed in the distance. The facility went into lockdown mode.

I reached the top. The razor wire loomed inches from my face. I threw my heavy/canvas jacket over the jagged metal coils. I hoisted my body over the top. The wire sliced through the thick fabric, grazing my shoulder. A sharp bite of pain followed. I ignored it. I dropped to the ground on the opposite side.

I landed in the dirt. I rolled to absorb the impact. I scrambled to my feet. A dense line of trees stood a hundred yards away. I ran toward the tree line. My lungs burned. The shouts of the federal agents faded behind the concrete walls, but the hunt remained active.

Headlights flared in the dark. A black SUV tore down the narrow access road hugging the forest edge. The vehicle fishtailed in the dirt. It slanned to a halt ten feet from my position.

The passenger door flew open.

“Get in!’ Tristan roared.

‘I am not a glass doll,” I fired back. “I am your equal. We are at war. I fight.”

The tension in the cramped vehicle snapped. The anger morphed into a desperate, consuming fire.

Tristan released my arms. He grabbed the back of my neck. He hauled me across the center console. He crashed his mouth against mine.

The kiss lacked softness. It held raw, jagged edges. A collision of fear and survival. I opened my mouth. I welcomed the invasion. I tangled my hands in his

dark hair. I pulled him closer. He tasted like mint and danger.

He shifted his bulk. He lifted me over the console, pulling me into his lap. My knees straddled his thighs. The steering wheel dug into my back. I did not

care. He shoved my heavy jacket off my shoulders. His hands roamed my body, seeking the reassurance of my heartbeat.

“You drive me insane,” he groaned against my lips.

He unbuttoned my shirt with impatient fingers. The fabric tore. He exposed my skin to the cold air of the garage. He dropped his head. His mouth traced a line of fire down my neck. He bit my collarbone. A sharp, stinging claim.