Chapter 3

"Lift your leg a bit higher," Jared instructed, lightly tapping my knee with the tip of his pen. "Yes, hold that angle."

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the training room, casting golden flecks on his eyelashes. What kind of lunatic actually enjoyed working out at dawn? And the worst part was that he insisted I join him every time.

I gritted my teeth and forced my right leg higher. Then, a sharp pain shot through my ankle. My muscles were still screaming in protest from the extra two hours of combat training I'd put myself through after coming back from the black market last night.

"Your gesture is off." He suddenly stood up and pressed his palm against my waist. "Tighten up here."

I instinctively threw an elbow strike, but he effortlessly blocked it. Two weeks of training had improved me by leaps and bounds, but I was still nowhere near his level.

"Trying to attack me off guard, huh?" He arched his eyebrows, effortlessly catching my wrist and pulling me into his arms. "Am I being too nice to you?"

The faint scent of his aftershave drifted into my nostrils. At this close range, I could clearly see the amber streaks in his irises and that barely visible scar above his left brow.

"Let go of me," I snapped, struggling to break free, but he held me tightly.

"Let me teach you a new move." He suddenly let go. I lost my balance and started to fall backward, but he caught me around the waist just in time. With a smirk, he added, "It's called 'throwing yourself into my arms'."

"You're boring." I shoved him away, but as I turned, my ankle sprained.

I sucked in a sharp breath as agony shot through my ankle. Jared's smile instantly disappeared. He dropped to one knee to cradle my ankle, and his fingers applied precise pressure to the swollen area.

"Hold still," he said. His bangs fell forward as he lowered his head, obscuring his gaze. "Just a muscle strain. It's not that serious."

I stared at his hair vortex. He was teasing me a moment ago, and the next, he could switch into professional mode. The warmth of his fingertips seeped through my skin, making me oddly comforted.

"Why did you save me?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He paused for a beat and replied, "I told you, you're worth more to me than any antiserum."

"Tell me the truth," I demanded.

Jared looked up, and I saw the warm sunlight in his eyes. He asked, "Remember the riot that broke out in the slum three years ago?"

I nodded. That was when I had just joined the Safe Zone guard team.

"You once gave medicine to street kids," he murmured, his thumb unconsciously stroking my ankle. "There was a little girl with a high fever. You gave her antipyretics and... a strawberry candy."

The memory suddenly became crystal clear. In the ruins left by the riots, a scrawny girl was curled up behind a cardboard box, her eyes gleaming unnaturally bright. I gave her the medicine I was carrying and the last piece of candy from my pocket.

"Was that... your sister?" I asked.

"By the time I got there, she was already dead," Jared said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But she was still clutching a candy wrapper and smiling as if she'd won the whole world."

My throat felt dry. So the photos he secretly took and all those subtle attentions...

"Ever since that day, I've had my eye on you." He suddenly grinned, lightening the somber mood. "That idiot Andrew isn't worthy of you."

Before I could even react, the alarm blared.

Paul burst in, his glasses askew. "Safe Zone Special Forces have breached the perimeter defenses. Their leader is Andr..."

"Take her through the secret passage," Jared ordered, already on his feet as he pulled two handguns from the drawer and chambered them. "Initiate Plan B."

"You can't hold them off alone." I grabbed his wrist and warned, "Andrew brought at least twenty—"

"Are you worried about me?" He leaned in and whispered, "Save that for the bedroom." With that, he pressed something cool into my palm—the pendant engraved with a "J".

As Paul dragged me toward the back door, I turned for one last look and saw Jared by the window—his white shirt billowing in the wind like the wings of a bird about to fall.

Just before the door to the secret passage closed, I faintly heard Andrew's voice blaring through a megaphone. "Jared, hand over Amanda."

Then came Jared's cold sneer. "She's mine now. Go fucking back."

The tunnel was damp and chilly. Clutching the pendant, I could feel my heart pounding painfully against my ribs. Paul suddenly spoke up, "Mr. Stevens has never activated Plan B for anyone before."

I asked, "What do you mean?"

He pressed his palm against the fingerprint scanner and said, "It means you're the exception."

The ground suddenly shook violently as explosions boomed in the distance. Paul's face drained of color. "Damn! They're using heavy artillery."

I spun around and raced back.

Paul yanked me back. "Are you crazy? Going up there now is a suicide mission."

"Then we'll die together." I shook him off and drew the handgun Jared had given me. The content of the intensive training over the past two weeks flashed through my mind—proper grip, controlled breathing, trigger discipline...

The tunnel exit was behind the garage. Hugging the wall, I walked forward and heard Andrew's voice. "You survived last time only because I showed mercy."

"Is that so?" Jared panted. "I thought it was just because your marksmanship sucks."

Rounding the corner, I saw Jared slumped against a support pillar, his white shirt half-soaked with blood. Andrew was advancing on Jared with his gun raised, while several uniformed men lay across the ground behind him.

"Where's Amanda?" Andrew pressed the gun muzzle against Jared's forehead. "Don't make me resort to torture."

Just as I was about to pull the trigger, Jared suddenly grinned. "You really want to commit murder right in front of her?"

Andrew spun around and saw me, his eyes widening almost instantly. "Manda..."

"Don't call me that," I said coldly, steadying my gun aimed directly between his eyebrows. "Let him go."

Andrew looked thunderstruck. "You're pointing a gun at me for this criminal?"

In one swift motion, Jared drove his elbow into Andrew, wrenched the gun from Andrew's hand, and pressed it against Andrew's chin. "Game over, Commander Harris."

More footsteps approached in the distance. Andrew gritted his teeth and snarled, "The Safe Zone won't let you get away with this!"

Jared leaned in and whispered in Andrew's ear, "Tell your superiors this—if they dare set foot on my turf again, I'll sell the NTX Antiserum formula to the rebels."

He let go of Andrew, who staggered a few steps back with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes flicked back and forth between me and Jared, then finally locked onto my hand gripping Jared's arm.

"You'll regret this," Andrew said, wiping the blood from his lips. "He's not a good guy you can rely on."

I sneered, "Compared to you, he's a saint."

After Andrew left, Jared suddenly staggered. When I reached out to steady him, my hands were instantly covered in warm, sticky blood It turned out he'd been shot in the lower back, and his pants were already soaked through.

"Enjoy playing the hero, huh?" I said, my voice trembling. I tore off the hem of my shirt to bandage his wound.

Jared managed a weak, teasing smile and teased, "Feeling sorry for me?"

"Shut up." I pressed down harder, making him gasp sharply. "This serves you right. Who told you to—"

"Why did you come back here?" He suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip weak but insistent. "Weren't you supposed to take the secret passage?"

Sunlight pierced through gun smoke, illuminating his face. His usually mocking eyes now blazed with startling intensity. A sudden realization struck me—this crazy guy would really die for me.

It was just like how I walked through hell for him now.