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The glass slips from my hands and clatters into the sink. It doesn't break, but the noise makes me jump, and Sully's thick, strong arms wrap around me from behind, giving me that hug of his that melts away the panic and fear.

How is it possible for him to do that? Be that?

I inhale and lean my head back against his chest. We stay that way for a long moment, the quiet house echoing our harsh breathing. "I'm scared," I whisper. "Is that what you want me to say? To admit? I'm scared—and that makes me angry. But at least angry is useful. Angry gets me out of bed and back to work, and it doesn't allow him to win. So, yes, if you have to know, I am scared, but if I let fear win, he wins. So instead of being afraid and cowering, I choose to be angry. Let me be angry, Sully."

I feel his lips against my head. My hair. Nuzzling me in gentle touches that calm me even more.

"Can you be angry and cautious?" he asks in a low voice.

Fighting the presence of the Saints is useless, and I know it. And, like it or not, knowing I won't be alone does give a sense of comfort. I just hate how Sully went about it. I hate that they're necessary in the first place. I hate that my ex is creating this mess of emotions, and Sully and I are fighting. "They have to stay outside."

"They can't protect you if they can't see you."

"Are they going to follow me to the bathroom, too? Like dogs?"

That gets me a tight squeeze. I groan and gently but firmly break his hold enough to turn to face him. Staring up into Sully's worried expression leaves me struggling to remember why I'm fighting him so hard when I know he's scared, too.

"You're not a chess piece," he says. "But you are mine. And I protect what's mine."

He shifts one of his big hands to tangle loosely in my hair, his thumb and forefinger digging into the tight muscles and earning a soft moan of pleasure when the muscles release.

That gets a kiss that Sully deepens until I'm on tiptoes with my arms wrapped around his neck.

If fighting means making up…

A persistent buzzing interrupts us, and Sully growls as he lifts his head and reluctantly releases me to pull his phone from his pocket.

"It's Gabe. I have to take this." Sully drops a kiss onto my nose before answering the call.

While he discusses an upcoming fire department event, I set to work making a snack for us. Now that the concussion pain has let up, my appetite is back in full force, and I need to keep busy so I don't spiral into another meltdown.

By the time Sully returns, I've made a sandwich and split it, giving him the bigger portion, and found chips and drinks. I'm four bites in when he drops to the couch beside me, his big hand landing on my knee and staying there in a distracting grip.

"Gimme a bite," he murmurs.

I point to the plate on the table waiting for him.

"Yours looks better," he says, flashing me his Hollywood-handsome, megawatt smile.

I roll my eyes and hold up my sandwich for him to take a bite. He nips my fingers first, eyes twinkling, before dipping his head as though to take a bite before swooping up to steal a kiss from me instead.

When the kiss ends, I give him a lazy-yet-pointed glare.

"Definitely better," he murmurs.

"You don't play fair, Mr. Sullivan."

One of his fingers strokes over my cheek.

"Now you know how I feel every time I look at you," he says softly. "Like my heart is walking around outside my body and I need to protect it at all costs. Humor me. Just until your ex is caught. Humor me and put up with my protectiveness until he's back behind bars. Please, Violet. For me."

Maybe if the man hadn't uttered please in that husky tone, I could withstand his attempts to soften my anger at his heavy-handedness. But he had, and because I know if the situation was reversed and he was the one being stalked by a crazy ex…

I'd want to be heard when it came to matters of his safety.

It's a fine line to walk, but so long as boundaries are kept, I can do it. I can compromise. I won't like it, but I can do it. "Fine. But on my terms. They can come inside the bar, but I don't want them inside the house. It's weird, Sully. It's too much of an invasion of privacy. They have to stay outside."

"Okay, they stay outside—but you agree to not try to slip the guys guarding you. You stay in sight, and you let them keep you safe. Deal?"