Page 51 of Gunnar

He’s been watching.

He’s been here.

Close enough to see through the windows and capture my most intimate moments.

Flipping through them again, I feel the piece of paper taped to the back of the terrace photo. It’s a familiar, heavy, cream-colored card stock with handwriting I also know too well.

It’s one thing to try to make me jealous, my love. It’s another to be a whore. This will not go unpunished.

-X

Not only is he watching me at my most vulnerable and exposed, but he’s judging and condemning me for it. I need to scream. for help. For Gunnar. I open my mouth, but it doesn’t come. There’s no air. Only terror and the suffocating weight of violation that presses down on my chest like a physical force. I force myself to take a breath—a deep, shuddering gulp of air that burns—and finally needed sound comes out.

“Gunnar!”

It doesn’t sound like his name. It’s a wail, a desperate, primal shriek torn from my depths. The sound is so panicky that I don’t recognize my own voice. I scream his name again and again, until my throat is raw and I’m sobbing.

Footsteps thunder up the stairs, multiple sets of heavy boots rushing toward me with such speed that the chandelier in the hallway vibrates. I hear Gunnar call for me, shouting my name moments before the door bursts open and four towering men barrel into my office, with looks on their faces like they are fully prepared to murder an intruder.

Gunnar is first, his eyes wild and his gun drawn, sweeping the room. Jagger is right behind him, knife in hand, his usually jovial face transformed into a lethal mask. Hawk fills the doorway, his gun resting against his thigh, and Damon brings up the rear. They realize, almost simultaneously, that we’re alone. There is no intruder to fight or enemy to subdue. It’s just me, shaking and sobbing.

Gunnar holsters his weapon and crosses to me in quick strides, cupping my face as he bends down to my level. “What is it? What’s wrong, baby girl?” His voice is ragged, barely controlled panic bleeding through every syllable.

I can’t speak. I can only gesture with my trembling hand toward the desk where the photographs are fanned across the surface like a deck of obscene playing cards.

The others step closer, gathering around the desk, as Gunnar wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. His heart is beating so fast I can feel it thudding against my chest.

Jagger lifts a photo from the desk, of my hands braced against the balcony door, as Gunnar takes me from behind. “Okay, Dad… Get it,” Jagger says, his tone attempting levity but falling flat.

Damon elbows him hard, though not hard enough to actually hurt. “Have some fucking decorum,” he snaps, snatching the photograph from Jagger’s hand and tossing it back to the desk. He lifts one of us in the office and scans it quickly. His jaw tightens as he moves toward the windows. He holds it up while facing the room, comparing the angle to the view outside. “I’m not an expert, but this looks like it was taken from the beach, a little way down. See the angle on the terrace? The way the palm frond cuts across the corner? He was probably positioned near that outcropping of rocks, just beyond the property line.”

Hawk reaches for the note and reads it out loud, his voice a gravelly rumble that somehow makes the words even more terrifying. “It’s one thing to try to make me jealous, my love. It’s another to be a whore. This will not go unpunished.”

A chill runs through me, starting at the base of my spine and radiating through me until my entire body is covered in goosebumps. Gunnar notices immediately, and his hands run up and down my arms, trying to warm me.

“We need more cameras,” Hawk insists, shifting into tactical, protection mode. “Motion sensors along the beachfront. I’ll call Mattis, get him to tap into any traffic cams or satellite feeds that might have picked up someone in that area over the past few days.”

“I’ll do a sweep of the perimeter,” Jagger adds, though his usual bravado is subdued. “Check for any signs of encampment, disturbed sand, and footprints.”

“I’ll review the security footage from the gate,” Damon says, turning from the window. “See if we missed anyone coming onto the property.”

They move with efficiency and purpose, filing out of my office with promises to return with updates if they find any evidence as to who did this. Unfortunately, their competence doesn’t comfort me. Nothing erases the knowledge that this man watched us make love, fuck, and violated the sanctity of me giving myself to Gunnar. And he is not pleased about it.

Alone with Gunnar, surrounded by the photographic evidence of our intimacy turned into ammunition against us, he holds me in silence. His arms are banded around my waist, his chin resting on top of my head. He strokes my hair, pressing kisses to my temple whenever my sobbing crests and breaks. He lets me cry, giving me the opportunity to process this latest violation in whatever way I need to.

“He was here,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and broken as I break the silence. “He saw us. He saw… everything.”

“I know, baby girl,” Gunnar husks. “I know.”

“What if he comes back?” The question tears out of me, ragged and desperate. “What if he’s watching right now? What if he’s out there, in the dark, with his camera and his… his hatred?”

“We’ll find him,” Gunnar promises. “We’ll find him, and we’ll stop him. He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“But the note,” I press, my fingers clutching at his shirt. “He said… It reads like… Like I belong to him. Like I’m his… And I betrayed him.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. “What if he’s coming for me? What if he decides he has to punish me for being with you?”

Gunnar pulls back slightly, his hands cupping my face and forcing me to meet his eyes. They’re dark, churning with a rage that matches my fear, but his touch is gentle. “He won’t get to you,” he vows, each word deliberate and absolute. “I will die before I let him lay a finger on you. You understand me? I will burn this world down.”

“But what if he doesn’t come for me?” The thought has been building quietly since we started this. “What if he comes for you? The note… it was angry at me, but it was threatening us. What if he thinks he has to eliminate you to get to me?”