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“Kitten, look at me,” Logan says, louder this time as he slips into my field of vision, and I blink up at him as I gasp for air. “Just breathe, Baby. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Still gasping, tears fill my eyes and slip down my cheeks as I look at him, pleading with him to do something to make it stop. I don’t even know what to do. My body is frozen but inside I’m being pulled in a hundred different directions. I can’t move, and suddenly I know what it feels like to be a deer stuck in the road as a car blares its horn and barrels straight for you.

I whimper again, my knees wobbling, and Logan’s face twists with agony as he pulls me into his body and crushes me to him. “Shh, Baby. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Reaching up with one hand, I grip his shirt in my fist, squeezing it tight as I sob into his body, and he whispers in my ear, running his hand over my hair again and again. The smoothing repetitive motion does begin to calm me but I still cling to him, my mind racing with all the bad scenarios that I read about after Mercedes told me to research stalkers.

“Come here, Kitten. Come sit down while I deal with this shit,” Logan whispers in my ear, and I grip his shirt tighter and shake my head.

“I don’t want those things in here.”

He pushes me away so he can look in my eyes as he wraps his hand around the back of my neck. “I know, Baby. But we have to close this door, and I’ve got to make some calls.”

I stare up at him for a few seconds before nodding my head. “Okay.”

He kisses my forehead before releasing me and turning around to grab the dolls from the porch. I look away as he picks them up and shuts the door. When I glance back at him, he’s holding them off to his side so I can’t see them. He smiles and nods his head toward the hallway.

“Let’s go in the kitchen.”

I nod, and he walks in front of me, careful to keep the dolls out of my view as we walk into the kitchen. He stands by the sink in the island, and I climb on a barstool, watching him carefully.

“I’m going to put them on the counter, okay?”

I nod and take a deep breath as he pulls the dolls up from under the counter and lays them on the granite. My stomach rolls, and I can’t take my eyes off the doll that looks like Logan as tears well in my eyes. In all his letters, Chris has never once shown violence or been angry at me but it hits me all of a sudden as I sit in my kitchen with tears streaming down my face that, quite possibly, it’s not my life we need to be worrying about.

Logan watches me closely as he pulls out his phone and dials a number before holding it to his ear. I tune him out, trying to think about all this clearly, but my mind is still bogged down by fear, and I can do nothing but sit here and freak out. Logan ends the call and dials another number, and I think back to the research that Mercedes insisted I do. I wish I would have paid more attention when I was reading but I was still at a point where I was dismissing all of this as not that big of a deal. But not anymore.

“Hey, Mercedes, it’s Logan,” he says, and my gaze flies to him. He’s staring right at me, love and determination in his eyes. “Not great, actually. I was actually calling to ask if Ali could work from home for the time being.”

I start shaking my head at him but he turns away from me. “Yeah? That’d be awesome. Thank you so much. I’ll tell her to call you.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I snap as soon as he hangs up the phone, and he sighs as he turns to me.

“Keeping you safe.”

I climb off the barstool and cross my arms over my chest as I glare at him. “You don’t get to dictate my life.”

“Right now, I absolutely do. I will keep you safe, Ali. No matter what it takes.”

“I’m not the one with a knife sticking out of my chest,” I yell, gesturing to the dolls lying on the counter, and he glances down at them. “Are you going to stay locked up in the house with me?”

“If that’s what you want, yes.”

I huff and shake my head, pointing down the hallway to the front door. “I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“I’m fucking serious this time, Logan. I don’t want to see you right now. Leave.”

He shakes his head and stalks over to me. I meet his glare as he leans in closer, hovering just above my lips. “Get over it, Princess. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Logan,” I growl, anger spiking inside me.

“Uh… bad time?” someone asks, and I turn my glare to Chance and Kodiak as they stand in the entrance to my kitchen, uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

“Nope,” I snap and spin, marching into my bedroom and slamming the door, making sure it’s locked before I crawl into bed and silently cry myself to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Seven