I’m so not letting Grams stay anywhere near this shit.

I hurry home and slip in through the sliding door at the back of the house, taking light footsteps. Grams should be sleeping. She can sleep all night tonight, but before the day ends tomorrow, I’ll make sure she’s on her way to putting two thousand miles between her and this trouble that’s found us. Dragging in a ragged breath, I glide the pad of my index finger along the raised edge of the tiny script engraved on my earring. I’m beyond upset, but what I need to do is push my rage away so I can think straight. I run a tight circle around the engraving, trying to center myself as I’ve done countless times before, but this time it’s so hard.

I should be embarrassed more than anything—I didn’t just let Thorne Pierce get the advantage on me, I went too far and allowed my body to enjoy his rugged touch. Fuck. That should never have happened.

Entering my bedroom, I head over to my laptop on my writing desk, pressing the power button as I take a seat at the upholstered chair I bought a few months ago. Had I known this man would show up after all this time, I would’ve made sure that Grams and I kept our belongings to a bare minimum. All the money spent remodeling this house would be handy now, liquid cash instead of modern conveniences and useless trimming I may have to walk away from if things become too complex to fix.

The muscles in my shoulders tense up and my fingers close into fists.

Who the hell am I kidding? They’re already too complex to fix.

Logging in quickly, I immediately open the web browser to find a travel site. Grams has a younger brother out east. I think it’s time she has an extended visit. Her flight is booked within a few minutes, and I print the ticket and itinerary, folding it and placing it into as cheerful an envelope I can find. I even twist together a few ribbons and wrap it around the envelope to pretty it up some more. This has to look like I’ve been planning it for a while or she’ll start asking questions. That’s the last thing I want.

My next task involves protecting Trish and Luke. This is going to take some planning and probably some scheming, but I have to find a way. The Hunter’s reputation is one for ruthlessness. When he gets a kill order, he doesn’t just take out the target, he wipes out whoever stands in his way during the process. He’s also known to use the important people in his targets’ lives to draw them into the open. Trish and Luke are my only friends. I won’t let them become collateral damage for this assassin, or to be used as bait to get to me. No matter what it takes. I need to send them and Grams out of harm’s way before I can focus all my effort on Thorne Pierce. I refuse to have their deaths on my conscience. It just can’t get to that.

Then I remember something and smile. Paying attention to random chit-chat does serve a purpose, after all. I have a vague recollection of a conversation with my best friends a few months ago. Luke is so quirky sometimes. He added ‘go on a three-week Ozarks vacation’ to the top of his bucket list, complete with a sleek cigarette boat rental for touring, sightseeing, and fishing. They’re both on summer break from their teaching jobs, and money has been tight for them since they bought their first house together. Well, I can’t think of a better time for them to cross that unusual dream vacation off his list, together.

But coming up with the idea of gifting them a trip is one thing. Getting them to accept my gift is a whole other beast. It’ll take some serious effort. My best friends will be suspicious. It’s not every day that people go that far for their bestie and her man. To make it more palatable, I decide to do the opposite. I go back online and purchase two return bus tickets to the Lake of the Ozarks via Kansas City, put in a ten-day booking request for a tiny one-bedroom cabin, then I rent the boat. A shorter, budget vacation is something I can pull off. It’ll show Trish that I mean well, scraping together what I can to give them a memorable experience, especially as they never had a honeymoon after they got hitched. They felt it was more responsible to put their remaining savings toward buying a house.

But packaged up this way, something smaller and more in line with what they know about me, they won’t be able to turn it down. It’s too meaningful a gesture to say no to.

With these trips planned, a bit of my anxiety subsides, but not enough to make a difference to the ball of panic sitting inside my chest.

Changing into an oversized t-shirt, I crawl into bed and pull the covers over me. My fingertips pass over my earring again, hoping for some comfort. I say their names in a whisper.

Rita and Douglas.

I have an album of family photos, but carrying my parents’ names with me has helped me keep their memory alive. It reminds me that although they might’ve been ripped from my life way too soon, they’ll always be close. Photos can age and fall apart, they can be left behind and forgotten, they can be blown up or set on fire, they can be erased. But written in this engraving, no one can ever take them from me.

As I start to relax, the image of Thorne charging toward me floods my senses and my heart jumps. I pull the sheets tighter around me and snap my eyes shut, letting the events replay. I can’t fight them, so I may as well channel all that energy and put that hit of adrenaline to good use. It’ll prepare me for what I have to do next.

But that’s the problem. It’s wasn’t just that I was in danger. Thorne had his body pressed up against me. His hard edges and my soft curves. His thick, corded erection grinding on me, his hand in my hair, his mouth on my skin. The heated spark of an arousal my body has never known.

Fuck. I loved it and I hate myself for it.

I hate him for making this so fucking complicated.

I shove the covers to the side and jump out of bed, starting to pace.

What my mind needs is to focus on the fact that he’s been spying on me for a fucking week or more, sending intel to God knows who, most likely preparing to end us. I need to forget his cock and remember the gun he had jammed into my ribs, ready to kill me. This man is dangerous.

He’s my enemy.

Not a lover.

His being here is a threat to every aspect of the life Grams and I have built since my parents’ murders. In fact, his presence is confirmation that everything we’ve done so far has been for nothing. Our life here is ruined. It’s all over. We have to start over somewhere else.

And that’s the dose of reality that I need. For my blood to boil, for my hatred to grow, for all that pain and anger to spread.

I need to put him down, not fall for him.

I learned a long time ago that love is weak. But pain, rage and hate? They’re the fuels that drive me. And that’s how I’ll survive.

I swallow hard and return to bed, drifting off with the harsh reality pulsing through my being.

* * *

The smell of Grams’ pancake breakfast wafting in through my bedroom door wakes me out of an uneasy sleep. I feel groggy opening my eyes in my room this morning. The curtains are pulled wide and bright light is flooding in through all the windows, making the room’s pale eggshell walls and light cream furniture seem to dazzle. But with blinding light or not, I need to use this time while Grams is busy to pack her suitcase. She’ll be surprised that I went to such lengths, but I’m counting on her buying the whole dog and pony show that I’ll put on until she has boarded the plane out east and is finally safe from The Hunter.

Getting out of bed, I throw on my robe and hop to it. It’s only when I’m halfway through packing that the fog in my groggy brain lifts, the prickle of goosebumps on my skin alerting me to a sobering truth.

My bedroom.

The curtains.

The light flooding in.

All my curtains were drawn tight when I went to bed last night.

Or were they?

I’m so fucking off my game because of this man.

But I know for sure that Grams never enters my room on mornings. Not while I’m asleep. She knows how light a sleeper I am, and constantly lectures me about trying to get more beauty rest.

So, if I didn’t open them, and Grams didn’t…

Thorne.

That arrogant prick.

He was in my room!

Dropping the housecoats in my hand, I run back to my room. I look around the space with a discerning eye, trying to determine if anything looks out of place. But nothing does. I walk over to my desk and look out one window toward the abandoned house. Thorne can probably tell my heart is racing from his spot at that window. As panic threatens to steal all the air from my lungs, I raise both hands to shoulder height and flash him my middle fingers. If he’s looking, he’ll get the message. He’s too far away for me to see any response, but as he can see me through his high-tech camera lenses, that’s what matters.

As I stand there, I catch a glimpse of the morning sun reflecting off a piece of glass or metal on the distant second floor. It sends a sparkle of dancing light that moves in a vertical pattern. My eyes track the light for a moment, and something about it causes me to look down my body. Then I freeze.

That son of a bitch has just pointed his red laser sights right at my heart.

God, I hate this man.

I swear, if The Hunter doesn’t kill me right goddamn now, I’ll fucking end him.

Nice and slow.

The curtains, the laser sight on my body… he’s doing this to scare me. To make me feel off balance and vulnerable. To keep putting me in my place. But he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. As soon as Grams, Luke and Trish are at a safe distance, he’ll find out the truth.

He’s about to meet his match. But sadly, he won’t live long enough to appreciate it.

I raise my straightened index finger at one side of my neck and slowly drag it across my throat, mimicking how I’ll slash his throat, which I promise is exactly what I’ll do next time I see him. No one will ever threaten me and mine again. Not without severe consequences.

* * *

Just as I planned, within a couple of days of coming face to face with Thorne Pierce, I’m ready. Grams is thirty thousand feet in the air, her flight more than halfway to her brother’s. Trish and Luke are on a Greyhound bus to the Lake of the Ozarks.

The people closest to me are safe now.

It’s time.