“Here we are. I’ll have one of the bellhops help bring the bags upstairs.” Tom gets out of the car to open the door for me, then hurries inside to grab some help.

Again, I have to stop myself from telling him not to bother, that I’ll manage. I need to learn how to accept help. I bet Brock’s ex-girlfriend would never struggle to get all these bags upstairs by herself.

I thank the bellhop for loading everything onto a cart. Should I tip him? Jesus, pretending to be rich is a minefield. He goes inside before I can even open my purse. I exhale loudly and am about to follow him when, out of nowhere, a hand clamps around my upper arm. I barely have time to register who’s manhandling me before he’s in my face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls.

“Luke!” And just like that my little fantasy world breaks into half. The cherry on top of my shit sundae.

His eyes are blazing with mad light.

Tom has already pulled away. Even in the middle of a crowded Manhattan sidewalk, I’m suddenly very alone. Except for my ex-boyfriend, squeezing my arm the way he used to when he was really angry for no damn reason.

“I asked you a question, Dani. What do you think you’re doing? Are you living with this guy? Did you move in with him?”

“Wh—who?” I gasp, eyes wide and heart racing a mile a minute. I don’t want him to hit me. Brock will not want a fiancée sporting a shiny black eye. I can’t lose this job. Not for this asshole. All I have to do is keep him calm while I walk backwards. Once I’m inside the building, I don’t think he would dare hit me.

“Don’t ask me who. You know who. I saw you coming out of this place this morning, and I followed you to the store, then back here again. You walked out with half of Bergdorf’s. What’s this guy giving you?” He leans in close.

I can make out the scent of whiskey on his breath. It’s just past noon, and he already smells like he’s half in the bag. His dark eyes burn with rage.

I know that look. “Are you stalking me?”

He gives me a nasty smile. “No, a true stalker doesn’t follow when they already know where you’re going. I was waiting here for you, because I knew you would come back here. I told you before, Dani. Every breath you take, every move you make, I’ll be watching you.”

I freeze with shock. Is that what he’s really been doing these last two months? As I stare at him in shock, he moves his face closer and tries to give me an Eskimo kiss, by rubbing his nose against mine.

“You’re drunk,” I say, and quickly take a step back.

He steps forward.

If I can just keep him talking and stepping forward.

“You haven’t answered my question yet. Are you sleeping with him?”

“Let go of me!” I try to wrench my arm free, but it’s no use. He likes feeling stronger than somebody so much smaller than him. I learned that a long time ago. But in the tussle, I manage two backward steps.

“Are you?”

“I can sleep with whoever I want, Luke. We’re not together.”

“We are together,” he says fiercely, his hand tightening painfully on my arm. “You just wanted some breathing space, and I let you have it, but breathing space doesn’t include whoring around.”

This infuriates me. How many times do I have to repeat that we are freaking finished. I forget my intention to be placating. “I’m a slut, okay,” I shout. “So why don’t you find someone better?”

“You’re not a slut,” he hisses close to my face. “A slut doesn’t do it for money. You’re a fucking whore. You’re selling yourself to him, aren’t you?”

That cuts to the bone, and my face must have gone white, because I can almost feel my blood drain away. My voice shakes. “I don’t need your permission. I’ll sell myself to whoever I please. Now get your stinking hands off me.”

“Hey!” he shouts suddenly. Then his hand is gone from my arm as he’s stumbling and trying to steady himself. A feat he only manages several feet away from me because of the strength with which Brock had shoved him.

“How dare you put your hands on her!” he roars.

In a shocked daze, I stare at Brock. The change in him is unbelievable. I’m almost terrified of him. He looks ready to kill, like an animal just looking for an excuse. He wants Luke to give him an excuse. I can just tell.

He advances on him with both hands in tight fists, tendons showing on the sides of his neck and his nostrils flaring.

“Who are you?” Luke demands.

“I’m the guy you think is buying her, that’s who. I don’t need to ask who you are. You’re a filthy, small-minded little worm who doesn’t understand generosity or kindness. You’re less than nothing.” Brock spits on the ground just by Luke’s feet and sneers at him.

“And you’re the asshole I’m gonna lay out flat!” Luke’s swing is wide, too slow, and way too easy to block.

Brock does just that, throwing up his left arm while he takes a faster, more precise swing with his right. His fist makes contact with Luke’s jaw and sends him sprawling on his back.

I can’t help but let out a little scream, hands over my mouth as he hits the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Brock crouches over him, pulling him up by his jacket collar. His voice is low, menacing, but I can just make it out. “If you ever look at her again. If you ever follow her around. If you ever speak to her, call her, text her, or come within touching distance of her, I swear, I will have you killed and dumped somewhere you’ll never be found. I don’t think anybody would miss you.” Then he casually lets go of his jacket so Luke drops with a thud.

“Did you just threaten to kill me?” Luke gasps, clutching his jaw.

“Yes.” The deadly calm with which he said the word sends a shiver of fear down my spine. He really means it.

“I’ll report you to the police,” Luke threatens wildly.

“Do it,” Brock challenges. “I don’t give damn what you do, just as long as you stay away from her. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Yes,” Luke whispers. His eyes look like they’re filling with tears as he stares up into Brock’s face in shock. He’s never met a man like him before. His buddies are all boys like him who never grew up, or stopped tapping kegs. Brock is a real man. Powerful in more ways than one. He might not brag about it, but he’ll display it when it counts.

“Now fucking apologize to her.”

Luke looks up at me. His face is full of resentment, but he obeys Brock, “I’m sorry.”

I nod and rub my arm. This is all too surreal.

Brock wipes his palms on his slacks as he turns to face me. Concern replaces rage. “Are you all right?”

“Mm-hmm.” I’m still too overwhelmed to speak.

“Come on. Let’s go up.” He wraps a protective arm around my shoulders and we walk side-by-side into the building.

I don’t know what brought him outside, but I’m just so grateful he came. His arm is comforting. A reminder of how far he’s willing to go to protect me. He hit Luke for me. He hurt him for hurting me. And then threatened to kill him. Nobody has ever fought my battles for me before this.

I think I’m beginning to like Brock Garret. A lot.