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I processed that slowly through the concussion fog. He’d moved his obsession from me to my sister? Geez. Give us a break.

“He has some obsession issues, apparently,” I said.

Patrick nodded. “We’ve made Charlotte PD aware. They’ll increase patrols around your family home.”

“Sophie won’t care. She’ll probably put money in his commissary.”

“Sam,” Tyson warned gently.

“What? It’s true.” The bitterness tasted familiar. “She probably knew he was here again…”

“We don’t know what she knew.”

I laughed, short and humorless. “I know my sister.”

Patrick left with promises to keep us updated. But before he left, he gave me back the phone I’d left in the alleyway. That one, surprisingly, had survived the ordeal. It had a cracked screen but it was still functional. I used it to call Jess while Tyson stepped out to get me coffee.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jess said the second I told her everything. “I’m booking a flight right now.”

“Don’t. He’s in jail. Patrick arrested him.”

“Patrick being the cop brother of the neighbor you refuse to admit you’re sleeping with?”

“I’m in the hospital, Jessica. Maybe lead with sympathy.”

“Sympathy doesn’t catch flights. Rage does. Are you hurt? How badly? What’s the damage?”

“Concussion protocol. Stitches on my lip. Bruises.”

“I’m coming.”

“Jess… I’m going to my mom’s in the morning. She - She’s in her last moments.”

“Oh, shit.” Her voice broke for the first time. “I’m sorry, babe. You’re my person, and I hate all of this is happening to you. You deserve so much peace.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. I loved her so much, and missed her horribly.

After we hung up, I was finally given the okay to leave the hospital. The discharge paperwork felt endless, but finally, finally, we made it back to my house. Tyson helped me pack while I sat on the bed, fighting nausea.

“You sure about this?” I asked as he folded clothes with surprising efficiency.

“Fourteen hours. We’re coming back too.” He zipped the bag, sat beside me. “Sam, you got attacked today because of me. Because Garrett saw me as threat enough to risk everything.”

“That’s not…”

“Let me finish.” His hand found mine. “You got hurt because someone couldn’t stand seeing you happy. I’m not letting you face your family alone. You’re injured, and they’re the reason you ran here in the first place.”

“They’ll be horrible.”

“Probably.”

I looked at him, this man who’d fought for me, who was ready to drive hours just so I wouldn’t be alone. “Why?”

“You really have to ask?” He touched my face carefully, avoiding the bruises. “I love you, Sam. I’ve loved you since you showed up next door looking ready to fight the world. I’m not great with words, but I’m here. Always.”

The confession hung between us, simple and devastating. I wanted to say it back but my throat closed up. He saw it and smiled.

“You don’t need to say anything. Just let me take care of you.”