Chapter Twenty Two
The floorboards of the executive hallway were freezing beneath the thin soles of my sneakers, but I barely felt the cold. Every muscle in my body was coiled tight, my chest aching with the rapid, shallow beating of my heart.
The door to Jake’s office was slightly ajar, casting a single, sharp wedge of yellow light across the dark hallway floor. I pressed my back against the wall, holding my breath, listening. The silence was absolute. There was no rustle of paper, no heavy sigh, no thud of boots. He had likely gone to bed and simply left the desk lamp burning.
I took a quiet, shuddering breath and slipped through the gap.
The office smelled heavily of him—dark leather, stale whiskey, and the sharp, clean scent of cedar. It was a suffocating rush of familiarity that n
