Then Kade picks it up, eyes narrowing. Kaleb sits up straighter. Kai and Keller exchange a look that I can’t decipher, but I feel the shift.
“They were inside the building,” Elijah says. “Watching us.”
Kaleb speaks up then, his voice low. “That’s not a fan. That’s possession.”
He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.
Elijah wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer.
Protective. Solid.
I feel seen. And safe.
Kade leans forward slightly, his expression all business now. “This is very serious. Maybe you should consider hiring abodyguard. As much as you’re at her house every night, during the day you have a business to run.”
Keller nods, arms crossed. “And we could also upgrade the alarm systems. Add more cameras to the store and the entrances. We’ve got guys who can handle it discreetly.”
“No bodyguards.”
My voice cuts through the room, firmer than I expect. I'm even a little surprised at how steady it sounds.
All their eyes shift to me.
“I mean it,” I continue, swallowing against the pressure in my chest. “I’m not letting whoever this is—whoever thinks they can stalk me into submission—control how I live my life.”
Elijah shifts beside me, not interrupting, just resting a warm hand on my thigh. It grounds me.
“I want to be smart. Careful, yes. But I’m not letting a stranger decide whether I walk alone to my car or not. Not again.”
Kaleb’s voice is gentle. “It’s not weakness to accept protection, Ava. But it is power to choose the terms.”
That gets through. I nod slowly, not backing down, but willing to meet them halfway.
“I’m okay with more cameras,” I say. “An upgraded alarm. And maybe… maybe someone to walk me out at night if Elijah’s not there. But I still need to feel like this is my life. Mine. Not something I’m surviving.”
There’s silence for a moment—respectful, not heavy. Then Kade inclines his head, like I’ve passed some kind of quiet test.
“Fair enough,” he says. “We’ll make sure you’re covered without making it feel like a prison.”
Elijah squeezes my hand, and I glance at him. His eyes say everything—pride, protectiveness, love.
And somewhere under all that, something darker. A promise.
Whoever is behind this… he won’t let them near me.
***
The house is quiet when we get back.
Too quiet.
I kick off my shoes by the door and wrap my arms around myself, suddenly so tired I could fold into the floor. Elijah says nothing at first—he just walks behind me, locking the door, resetting the alarm, making sure everything is secure. He always does that. Always makes sure I’m safe before anything else.
I drift into the living room, settling on the couch, knees pulled up to my chest. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable, just thick with everything unspoken.
Elijah walks in a minute later and kneels in front of me. Not sitting. Kneeling. His hands are gentle on my shins.
“You okay, baby girl?” he asks softly, the nickname slipping in like a thread stitching me back together.
