“I said calm down,” he repeats firmly, in that business managementbosstone. “I’m pulling in favors. Checking airlines, monitoring known contacts. For now: stay home. Don’t go anywhere alone. And keep your people close.”
My people.
Ethan.
Lily.
The thought sends a new bolt of terror through me so sharp my knees buckle.
Banks hears the silence on my end and softens.
“Lu… I got you. Just breathe, alright?”
Breathe.
If only.
“I’ll call you again in an hour,” Banks says. His voice shifts into command mode—calm, clipped, unshakeable. “Phone on you at all times. Text me if anything feels off. Anything. You hear me?”
“Yeah.” My throat barely works. “I hear you.”
There’s a pause. A weighted inhale.
And then—because he can never help himself—
“And keep that lumberjack of yours close.”
My stomach lurches.
“Banks—”
“I mean it. The guy’s built like a damn wall. Use it. Lean into it. Hell, get cozy with him if it keeps you safer.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
If he knew how cozy I’d been last night—
“Banks,” I warn, voice cracking. “Don’t.”
“What?” He snorts. “He’s right there with you, isn’t he? Big hands, broad chest, probably owns an axe for fun. I’m just saying—if someone tries to get near you again, I’d rather they run into him first.”
My pulse thuds painfully.
“Just… stop,” I whisper.
He hears something in my voice—something small and broken—and his tone softens instantly.
“Lu… you’re not alone there, right?”
I look toward the patio door.
I can see Ethan through the glass—broad back, shoulders tense, staring out at the lake like he’s tracking every ripple. Like he already senses something’s wrong.
“No,” I breathe. “I’m not alone.”
“Good.” Banks exhales. “Then breathe. One hour. I’ll update you.”
“Lu?”
