The adrenaline hit all at once. My hands started to shake, chest tightening like it always did when things spiraled too fast.
“Hey.” Eric’s breath was warm against my ear. “Stay with me.”
His arm tightened briefly, a silent reassurance, before he turned his attention to Dylan. “So, is there a problem, Officer?”
“Huh?” Dylan blinked, clearly thrown. His attention slid back to me, searching my face like I was suddenly unfamiliar.
“Well,” Eric continued, unbothered, “you were knocking at that door pretty hard.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Dylan cleared his throat. “A neighbor called it in. Said someone was poking around Frank’s house. Given his condition, I figured I should check things out.”
“Looks like you’ve done that.” Eric’s voice held an edge of warning. “And then some.”
Dylan’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. I have.” His eyes dragged over me again. “Everything’s looking good. Really good.”
My stomach dropped, anxiety spiked, and all the reasons I’d worked so hard to keep this man out of my life rose to the surface.
“It’s just me,” I mumbled, the entire situation beginning to feel out of control.
There was too much feeling. Too much pressure. And my body was tipping toward overload.
“Yeah, Jamie.” Dylan’s voice softened. “I see you.”
There was no sneer in it. No mockery. It landed like a sigh pulled straight from his chest, full of things I didn’t want to hear. It was a sound that said he wasn’t done yet. Not really. No matter who stood at my side.
Eric went utterly still beside me, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Blackness swallowed my vision, and whatever strength I had left finally gave way.
Chapter Nine
Eric
Jamie tipped forward, one hand clutching her chest as her knees went soft.
I was already there, my arm locking around her waist before she hit the ground. Dylan reacted too, but he was a moment too late, letting out a disgruntled sound as I scooped her into my arms.
He could make whatever noise he wanted. I didn’t give a shit about his ego.
Jamie was mine to protect, not his.
She was light in my arms, her body sagging into mine like she’d run out of energy to hold herself upright. I drew her closer, instinctively shielding her, and kept her there when she started to protest, pushing weakly against my chest.
“I’m fine. You can put me down.” Her fingers curled into my shirt, contradicting her words.
“No.”
I didn’t believe her for a second. Not any more than I believed Dylan had shown up here with innocent intentions.
Jamie wasn’t fine.
I knew this posture. This stubborn refusal to admit weakness. The instinct to smooth things over, to shoulder it alone and keep moving because stopping felt dangerous. I’d lived there. Still did, most days.
She carried her troubles the same way I did—quietly, until they started to break her apart from the inside.
Ignoring her protests, I tightened my hold and carried her into the living room, Dylan on our heels. I set her on the couch where I’d kissed her only minutes earlier.
That kiss still burned through me. Ill-timed, but impossible to regret. I’d crossed the line deliberately, shut out everything else, and followed pure instinct.
