My blood turns to ice.
My relief collapses into dread.
I stumble back a step.
Damian keeps coming, arms half-reaching, like he’s about to wrap me up and put the world back together.
But I can’t look away from the man near the SUV. He steps out slow, eyes fixed on me like he’s still taking inventory. Like he already knows how this ends.
“No,” I whisper, raising both hands. My voice breaks. “Don’t.”
I look at the stranger. Then at Damian. My heart slams so hard it hurts. “Don’t touch me.”
Damian stops short when he sees my face.
His eyes shift—first to me, then to the man standing by the SUV. There’s a flicker of hesitation, something unreadable tightening his jaw. “This is Reese,” he says finally, voice low, controlled in that way that makes it worse. “Caleb Reese.”
I blink. Reese?Reese?The name hits like a punch to the ribs. My head spins. “The one from the text message?” I ask, my voice rising. “Reese is ahe?” I point at him, hand trembling. “He was there, Damian. He was at the fire. On the fire escape. And he was in his car, watching me. At five in the morning opening the bakery.He came in 5, 6 times, stalking me.”
Damian’s face twists—anger, guilt, something darker. He doesn’t look at Reese. He looks at the ground like it might swallow him whole. “That’s because I paid him to watch over you,” he says.
The words land like bricks in my chest. I can’t breathe for a second. “Youwhat?” I ask. Neve squeezes my shoulders. Fuck, did she know and not tell me? “And why did you think I needed a babysitter?” I snap, my voice cracking.
Bridger steps forward, arms crossed, jaw clenched. “I told you, you should’ve told her what was going on.”
Damian’s head whips toward him, eyes burning. “Shut up,” he growls through his teeth.
The silence that follows is sharp, charged, like a wire pulled too tight. When he looks back at me, the fire in his eyes flickers. It softens into something strange. Not rage. Not arrogance. Something I’ve never seen on Damian Cross’s face. Regret. Real, hollow-eyed, bone-deep regret. But before he can say anything, I hear a car door click shut behind me.
Nathan.
He steps up quietly, stopping just behind my shoulder. His presence is steady. Close. Protective. I don’t even turn. I can feel the tension radiating off both of them.
Damian’s whole body changes the second he sees him. His jaw locks. His eyes go dark. That small flicker of apology vanishes in a blink, swallowed whole by something else.
Possessive. Violent. Murderous. His hands curl into fists. His nostrils flare. “Why the fuck is he here?” Damian growls, his voice low and barely holding back the storm beneath it.
I don’t flinch. “He went to the hospital with me,” I say, my voice steady but shaking underneath. “He stayed all night. He drove us home.” I glance at Neve, then back at him. “We werealone, Damian. In a fucking fire. We crawled out of a burning building barefoot and choking. Where were you?”
His expression falters. That violence in his eyes flickers, overtaken for a second by something else—something broken. His brows pull together, and I swear I see sorrow behind the rage. His mouth opens like he wants to explain. But it’s too late for words.
He steps toward me. The whites of his eyes are laced with angry red vessels and this close I can see the harshness of the jagged gash below them. It’s raw and glistening in the light, like it only stopped bleeding minutes ago. He looks wrecked.
I want to ask what happened. The words claw up my throat, but they don’t make it out. Because I feel eyes on me. Reese’s eye. He’s still standing by the SUV. Watching closely. The kindof stare that prickles the back of my neck. The kind that makes the air feel wrong. Whatever questions I might’ve asked dies in my chest. It’s the feeling creeping down my spine that I’ve been pulled into something far more dangerous than I ever understood.
And I step back, instinct taking over. I retreat right into Nathan, and his hands land gently on my shoulders to steady me.
That’s all it takes.
Damian sees the contact—Nathan’s hands on me—and something inside himsnaps. His pupils dilate, wide and sharp, like he’s not just angry, but hunting. Every muscle in his body goes rigid.
A breath catches in my throat. For a second, I’m afraid for Nathan’s life.
I step forward, out of his hold. I don’t want his hands on me either.
“Where were you?” I ask Damian, my voice sharp and cracking. “When he was there with me?”
Damian’s jaw clenches. His gaze flicks to Reese, then to Nathan, then back to me like he doesn’t know where to aim all that fury boiling under his skin.
