“They tried twice.”His jaw flexed.He hadn’t stopped seeing the scene replay in his head.The blur of steel, the screech of tires, the feral snap of instinct that had him yanking the wheel.“That ain’t chance.”
She swallowed, throat working.
“Listen, Chloe, I’m going to insist you wear a Kevlar vest whenever we go outside.”
She inhaled sharply.“You think someone is going to shoot at me?”
“I have no reason to believe that.”His voice stayed even, deliberate.“I’m being proactive.”
“Leo’s going to freak.”
“I’ll handle Leo,” Kayne promised.“What I need is younottrying to be brave for my sake.Or his.Or anybody’s.”
Her chin lifted stubbornly.“I’m not fragile, Kayne.”
“I know.”He reached out and caught a strand of her hair where it had escaped her ponytail.His fingers brushed her cheek before he dropped his hand, restraint etched into every line of him.“But being strong doesn’t mean being reckless.”
Chloe’s breath wavered.“I hate this.”
“I know that too.”He nudged a leaf on one of her plants, careful and gentle, like everything he did around her.“But I’m not losing you.Not to some bastard who thinks he can scare you out of your own life.”
Her eyes shone.Not with tears, exactly, but something weightier.Something he felt too deep to put words to.Then she whispered, “Kayne?”
“Yeah,cher.”
“You saved me today.Twice.”
Kayne didn’t touch her.Didn’t move.But something in him leaned, shameless and hungry and dangerous.
“Get used to it,” he murmured.
Her lashes fluttered, and then the moment shattered when her phone buzzed sharply on the table.
Chloe startled.Kayne’s hand automatically went to his weapon.
She reached for the phone, glanced at the screen, and all the color drained from her face.
“What is it?”he asked, already moving toward her.
She held it out with a trembling hand.A text from an unknown number.
Thought you’d be home by now.Cute boyfriend.
Kayne’s blood went ice cold, a flash-freeze that cut straight to the bone.He texted his office to trace the message, already knowing it would go nowhere, the motion more hopeful than anything else.There was no doubt the perp used a burner.They were anonymous, disposable, and provided enough confidence to taunt.The casualness of it bothered him more than the threat itself.This wasn’t panic or impulse.It was someone enjoying the game.
For a split second, instinct roared to bundle her up and disappear her into the safe house BeBe had secured.There, he could hide Chloe from the world behind layers of concrete and cameras.But he shut that down just as fast.Right now, she didn’t need to feel hunted.She needed normalcy.The illusion of it, at least.She needed the familiar comfort of her apartment and the quiet reassurance of her bed, not the sense that life had been stolen from her.
He’d stand guard instead.Let the walls stay the same while he became the barrier.
“I’m staying close,” he said, voice dropping into something unyielding.“No arguments.That means tonight, tomorrow, and until we figure this out.If I tell you not to open a door, you don’t.If I tell you someone’s off, you listen.”
She blinked.“Are you asking me to trust you, or telling me to?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
Her lips nearly curved despite everything.“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters.”
