His Childhood Sweetheart Returned, So I Chose Vengeance

Paul propped me up, and while he was distracted, I grabbed the bowl of porridge sitting on the nightstand—left behind by who knows who—and dumped it straight over his head.

I let out a cold laugh. "In your dreams."

Paul's face twisted with fury. Meeting my defiant stare, his hand rose instinctively.

Slap!

A sharp crack rang through the room.

But it didn't land on my face.

Jasmine Winfield stood there, a fruit basket in one hand and Paul's wrist caught in the other. She shoved him back and delivered a slap of her own across his cheek.

"Get out, both of you. You and your little homewrecker."

Eleanor rushed forward, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, Jessica. This is all my fault. Please don't blame Paul. As long as you two can work things out, I'll turn myself in. I'll go to prison willingly."

The moment Eleanor cried, Paul's heart melted on cue.

"Jessica Pruitt, don't push your luck." His voice dropped, low and venomous. "You think having some beat cop watching your back makes you untouchable? Your own parents couldn't protect you back then. What makes you think a cop is going to make any difference?"

He shot a look at Jasmine. "I'm going to report her for assault."

The air left my lungs.

The people closest to you always knew exactly where to twist the knife.

The hospital room went deathly still. Nothing but the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator filled the silence.

When the anger drained from Paul's face, realization crept in. He looked down at himself, porridge still dripping from his hair, and took two halting steps toward me. Guilt flickered across his features. "Jessica... I—"

Eleanor cut him off. "Paul, the back of my head really hurts. Can you check if the wound opened up again?"

The guilt vanished from his face in an instant, replaced by panic. "Come on, let me take a look."

They left.

Jasmine slammed the door behind them. "Disgusting."

Then her expression softened as she turned to me, eyes full of concern. "Jess, don't take any of that to heart. Your mom and dad were the bravest, most incredible people in the world."

I nodded. "Thank you, Jasmine."

Our families went way back. I'd known her since we were kids.

Her father and mine had both been cops, and when she grew up, she followed in their footsteps.

The difference was that her parents worked in the open, while mine worked in the shadows.

Soon enough, I would step into those same shadows.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked.

I couldn't imagine Paul had called her.

"The night you called 911, I was on duty. Jess, do you have any idea how terrified I was when my colleague read out the address? I kept calling your phone and you never picked up."

It came back to me. That night, after the bleeding started, the first call I'd made was to 911 for an ambulance. But every unit had already been dispatched, and they had to reroute one from another district.

The delay stretched on and on, so I'd called Paul instead.

But he hadn't believed me. So my only option was to call the police.

I gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry for worrying you."

Jasmine shot me a look. "Don't be ridiculous."

Then her face brightened. "Oh, I almost forgot. That transfer request you submitted? It went through. You got approved."

My heart leaped. "Really? When do I report?"

"No rush. The higher-ups know about your condition. They want you to recover for a month first."

Eight years. For eight years, I'd been stuck behind a desk doing administrative work. All I'd ever wanted was to be out in the field, hunting down fugitives, the way my parents had.

I'd submitted seven transfer requests. Every single one had been denied.

Because I didn't have the physical skills to hold my own. So over those eight years, I'd trained in every form of martial arts I could find, earned every certification available, all building toward one goal: avenging my parents.

"Jasmine, I need you to look into Eleanor Lambert's background for me."

The next time Paul appeared was three days later. His eyes were bloodshot.

"Jessica Pruitt, you vicious woman. If you hadn't cracked open the back of Ellie's skull, she never would have ended up paralyzed from the waist down."