She nods, not bothering to argue my decision.
Relief floods in. Her ability to make her own decisions is important to her, but her safety is important to me. She has a security alarm, but that might not be enough if someone’s determined to harm her. The hell if I’m taking that chance.
Still, my staying with her at her house might solve the problem of keeping her safe at night, but it doesn’t do anything about her safety while in this office.
“Fuck, you need a huge terrifying rottweiler,” I mutter and glance at the loyal but playful puppy sitting by Jess’s feet. “No disrespect intended, Bailey.” My gaze goes to the glass door to the reception area. “New rule. That door stays locked at all times.” I point at it. “No one’s allowed in here unless it’s me or one of my brothers or Lance.”
A small frown wrinkles Jess’s forehead. “Why? You don’t really think someone will be stupid enough to try anything while I’m here, do you? They still have to walk past the security cameras at the front of the building.”
“I don’t care how stupid or fucking intelligent whoever left you the threat is, I’m not taking any chances.”
She releases a frustrated grunt, her shoulders deflating. “So, I’m back to being a prisoner.”
“No, you’re back to me trying to keep you safe. Something the prison guards fucked up doing too many times to count. I have no intention of making that mistake.”
“Is this because you used to be a Marine? All this alpha protection mode you’ve got going.” She waves her hand at my body, her expression not giving away what she’s actually thinking.
“No. It’s because I’m in love with you, Jess, and don’t want anything bad to happen to you. The Marine training just means I’m a badass who knows a thing or two about protecting those I love. So get used to it.”
I half expect her to cross her arms and scowl at me, and I wouldn’t blame her if she did. If our places were reversed and I felt like my freedom was being taken from me, I’d be pissed too.
But she doesn’t do any of that. She surprises me with a soft smile and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you for caring so much about me. Other than my grandparents, I don’t remember anyone else making sure I felt safe.”
It blows my mind she’s gone through life like that. My father and grandfather—both Marine vets—would’ve done everything in their power to keep my brothers and me safe when we were growing up. My brothers and I don’t hesitate to do the same for those we care about. “You’re welcome. I’m not letting anything happen to you, Jess. And I’ll take you to the park during your lunch breaks so you can write.”
Jess’s eyes brighten, and I know I’ve said the right thing. There’s been an unexplainable light to her ever since she began writing her World War II novel.
Her light extinguishes as quickly as it came. “I got a call just before I called nine-one-one. It was from Roger Carmichael about the renovations you were supposed to start next week. He canceled.”
“He did?” That’s weird. He and his wife were excited at the changes my crew and I were planning for their kitchen. Hell, I was excited about that project too.
“He didn’t approve of you hiring an ex-con to work for your company. I tried to explain things, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“That’s fine,” I say, desperate to put the light back in her eyes. “If he’s going to be ignorant, I’m not interested in doing the work for him.” Or any other narrow-minded individual.
“You matter more to me than any of that,” I tell her, and I mean it. I don’t care how many demons I have to fight—I’ll battle them all to free the woman I love from stalkers, prison guards, and the ghost of the man who stole her love.
42
TROY
August, Present Day
Maple Ridge
I openthe gate to my parents’ backyard. Butterscotch and Bailey trot past Jess and me, straining on their leashes. The smell of grilling burgers hangs in the air, and my stomach growls.
Jess laughs. “I take it you’re hungry.”
“I am now.” My parents’ barbecues have that effect on me. Everything always tastes great.
My brothers and Simone are already here. Simone’s talking to Mom by the picnic table, the usual spread of food covering it. Lucas is helping Dad with the grill.
“Where’s everyone else?” Jess scans the garden, the end of her ponytail brushing the back of her T-shirt as she turns her head.
“It’s just family this time.”
Jess stops walking and looks at me, her eyes wide and worried. “But I’m not family.”
