Ben’s face twisted, as though tortured, his mouth turning down. His heavy breathing filled the void of sound, as his hand shook holding the gun.

“Ben,” she said gently, her eyes staying on his as she forced herself to not look down at the weapon.

“I…I…” he haltingly spoke, his words as shaky as his hand.

“Ben, give me the gun and we’ll talk.”

Mitch came into sight, his weapon raised, sliding his eyes to the side as Brogan came into view as well.

Ben’s gaze jumped to the added people, his hand shaking more, before settling on Brogan’s furious expression. Swallowing deeply, he said, “Get back. You gotta get back.”

Mitch calmly said, “Not going to do that, Ben. We’re not going to leave you here with Officer Spencer. You need to lower your weapon and come with us.”

“No!” he shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion as he cut his eyes back to Ginny. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just like to look, that’s all. Just look.”

“But Ben, looking isn’t all you’ve been doing,” Ginny said gently, her hands clearly in sight, not wanting to startle him. “You went beyond looking.”

His face contorted as he bit out, “Not if they’re good. But that woman in the park…I’d watched her before. But then she was with a man…and drinking. I wanted her but she was with someone else. And then that bitch at the bar. She flirted with me to keep me buying drinks but then acted like I was nobody when some other guys came into the bar.”

Brogan growled low in his chest at the thought that Ben had been in Ginny’s house. She was so close to being violated like the others. He slipped backward, into the shadows, and moved stealthily to the left, glad the dim light from the back porch shone onto the path around the shed.

Grant and Burt were on the other side of the fence corner listening, unable to see what was happening. Grant looked at a tree nearby and, with a nod toward Burt, he jogged over, holstering his gun so that he could climb onto a lower limb for a better vantage point.

“What about your grandfather?” Ginny asked, her voice still soft as she kept an eye on the weapon pointed at her.

Snorting, Ben said, “Granddad? I was eleven years old when I first worked summers for him. He told me to keep a close eye on what was going on inside the houses in case I needed to back away. Hell, the first time I saw a woman taking off her bathing suit in her bedroom and she never noticed me standing on the ground peering in. All I knew, was that I couldn’t back away.” He looked at Ginny, his eyes pleading for understanding, “It was like a drug. I had to have more.”

She quickly calculated and realized he had been peering inside windows for over fifteen years and no one knew. “Ben, I want to get some help for you. You need to be able to—”

“You think I don’t know that?” he yelled. “I tried…I tried to fight it. Granddad wanted me to join the business, but I knew if I did, I’d never be able to stop.” His face fell as his eyes pleaded for understanding. “I went away. Went to college, came back to teach, thinking it would all stop. But the urges were still there. They were still there.”

“Ben, without counseling, it’s too hard to stop. I can get help for you—”

“You? Oh, that’s rich. You, who fucks your boyfriend with the windows open. I had a straight view right over the dunes, into the bedroom, and you never realized. How the hell can you help me?”

Ginny heard a growl before realizing it was from her, but forced her fury down. “You need to put the gun down, Ben. You need help and you don’t need to make it worse.”

“I need you, ‘cause you’re gonna get me out of here,” Ben said, stepping closer, the barrel of the gun now only a few feet from her.

Brogan moved noiselessly around the shed, his eyes landing on the back of the man holding a gun to his Ginny. First fear, and then anger, coursed through his blood. Ben. Who the hell would have thought it was Ben? Thinking of the times he had served him in his bar as he probably scoped out women, including Ginny, brought his rage boiling. And now he has a fucking gun on her and I’m powerless.

His vision narrowed, darkness filling in around the edges as he was taken to a different place…a different time. The Afghan husband dragging his wife into the street, tossing her down into the dirt before using his foot to keep her down as he took a stone and threw it.

In years to come, Ginny would remember what happened next, but at the time, her mind was only filled with Brogan’s anguished face as he moved toward Ben, his hands raised in an attempt to hit his gun hand. Several shots were fired, but her mind would only remember them as one loud noise reverberating throughout the space. There was the firing of a weapon from behind Ben, coming from somewhere over the fence, causing his right leg to buckle underneath him. Then his scream piercing the night as another shot was fired, this time aimed at her, while another shot caught him in the arm.

He fell to the ground at her feet, as pain seared her side. Knocked backwards, she fell against the shed, slumping to the ground. Unconsciousness descended as she heard multiple voices, all shouting and demanding, indistinguishable to her ringing ears, except for one. One lone voice pierced the others as blackness overtook her. One voice…low and deep…full of anguish…howling like a wounded animal. Brogan. She wanted to tell him she was fine. But no words joined his cries.

* * *

Ginny opened her eyes, Brogan filling her gaze. His face, ravaged, stared back at hers. She offered a slight smile before the reality of her surroundings slipped in. She was lying on a stretcher in the back of the ambulance, Zac nudging Brogan out of the way as he checked her out.

Lifting her hand toward him, Brogan leaned back in, her hand cupping his face. “Hey,” she breathed, trying to rub away the deep creases in his brow. “I’m okay.”

Gasping, his face closed the slight distance, his lips a breath away from hers, as he blinked back tears. “Fucking hell, babe. Thought…I thought…” Unable to put words to the memory of tackling Ben while watching Ben’s gun fire, he closed his eyes, a tear falling down his beard-stubbled jaw.

“Body armor works,” she said, although she did not mention the ache she felt in her side. Her thumb swiped his cheek, wiping away the moisture.

“Only if he hit you there,” Brogan rasped. “If he’d gotten you somewhere else—”

She remembered the reverberations of gunshots, but could not remember being hit. “Babe, you knocked his arm downward and saved my life. Grant got him in the leg, but it didn’t stop him. You, Brogan, you saved my life.”

He dropped his forehead to hers, his breath still ragged. Ginny tried to reach up with her other hand, but Zac had hold of it as he checked her blood pressure. Glaring, she said, “Zac, I’m fine. The force pushed me back against the shed and knocked the wind out of me, that’s all.”

“Ginny, if you think for one second that I’m going to shirk my examination of a police officer shot, much less one of my friends, you’re crazy. Hell, I’m letting Brogan get in my way as it is. Now, lay there and let me do my job.”

At that, she relaxed slightly, knowing as soon as Zac could finish, she would be able to get up. “Where’s Ben?”

“Another ambulance took him to the ER. He’ll be fine. Sam went with him and a North Heron deputy will be with them at the hospital as well.”

Shifting her eyes back to Brogan, she held his cheek closely, pulling slightly until his lips landed on hers. Soft and sweet, but she could tell he was holding back.

“Honey,” she said, gaining his attention. “Kiss me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Brogan, kiss me like you’re glad I’m alive,” she ordered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

His eyes widened, then narrowed slightly, as he fussed, “Oh, babe, you’ll remember that remark when I get you home, pamper you, and then get you in my bed.”

Grinning widely now, she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Closing the distance, he claimed her mouth, licking, sucking, delving, as he relished knowing she was alive and she was his.

* * *

“I hate being treated like an invalid,” Ginny grumbled, two days later, sitting on Brogan’s comfortable sofa.

“Shut it, beautiful,” Brogan ordered, standing in the kitchen deciding what to heat up for lunch. The community and their friends had descended the previous day, bearing casseroles, pies, cakes, platters of cut fruit, cold-cuts, homemade jams and jellies, and more things that Brogan had no idea what they were as Katelyn packed his freezer. His counter resembled a table at the county fair. Brogan had been happy for the support, but irritated that Ginny had not gotten as much rest as she needed. By the time Zac released her, she had had to fill out report after report in the police station. Mitch and Grant had taken Ben’s statement and gone back to examine Ginny’s house, which became a crime scene when they discovered Ben had ejaculated on her bed linens, and the night was gone and the morning had arrived.

He managed to get her to sleep, drawing the curtains in his room, wanting to shut out the world, as well as any peering eyes after hearing Ben’s confession of spying on them. Then he kicked out the well-wishers, telling them to come back later. He meant days later, not the next day, but hearing a knock on the door, he dropped his head to his chin.

Hearing a giggle from the sofa, he pretended to glare as Ginny smiled at him. Walking to the door, he swung it open, seeing Katelyn and his mom. Glancing behind them, he was pleased there was no one else.

Corrine stood on her toes to kiss Brogan’s cheek, saying, “Your dad and Pops went into the pub today to work with Aiden, so you have nothing to worry about there. Just concentrate on your girl.” Back down on her heels, she rushed over to Ginny, scooping her into her arms.

“Corrine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ginny assured, seeing tears forming in the older woman’s eyes.

“My boy would not make it without you,” Corrine whispered into Ginny’s ear.

Humbled, Ginny patted her back, and reminded, “I’m here and I’m fine.

Corrine stood and wiped her eyes. Pulling herself up to her full height, which was not very tall, she announced, “Katelyn and I are here to work.”

Brogan’s eyebrows lifted as he repeated, “Work?”

“Ginny can’t go home right now—” A slight gasp from Ginny halted Corrine, who immediately turned and apologized. “Sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re right.” A shiver slid over her, noticed by Brogan who stalked to her, shifted her over, planted himself in the sofa and pulled her into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he said, “We’re gonna take care of it, babe.”

She looked into his eyes, both worry and anger filling them. “When I saw him leaving through the window, I noticed my bedspread was messy, but I was focused on the intruder. I’m so glad I didn’t really see what he had done.”

“That bed’s gone,” Brogan announced. “Grant and Mitch took what they needed for evidence, and then Aiden and Lance came and hauled the mattress to the dump.”

Her mind whirling with all that she was hearing, she focused on the one thing that did not fit. “Lance? Lance came to help?”

“He’s not much into socializing,” Brogan agreed, “but he hated what had been done to you. He called Mitch and wanted to know if he could help. Mitch sent him my way and I told him to get with Aiden and get that mattress out of your house.”

Corrine said, “That’s why Katelyn and I are here. I know you got a lot of food yesterday, and we’re going to sort that out for you. We’ll label some of it, wrap some more, freeze what we can, and set out some for later.”

“Later, Ma?” Brogan asked, his attention pulled back to the dynamo already in the kitchen working.

“Brogan, friends are going to come by. You kicked everyone out yesterday so they’ll come by today to check on Ginny.”

“She was shot. Doesn’t matter if it didn’t penetrate, she was still shot,” Brogan argued. “She needs rest and not a bunch of our friends coming—”

“Honey,” Ginny’s soft voice broke through his rant as her hand grasped his arm. Holding his gaze, she said, “I want to see our friends. This should be a celebration…I’m fine, we’re all fine.”

Ginny’s phone rang and Katelyn picked it up from the counter, looking at the caller ID as she walked toward Ginny. Eyes wide, she stopped in her tracks, her mouth open but no words coming forth.

Ginny’s hand reached out, but before she closed her fingers on it, Katelyn turned her stare toward Brogan. “It says Dad on the ID.”

Brogan’s longer arm snatched the phone from his sister’s hand and hit answer. “Yeah?”

Pause. “Brogan MacFarlane. Ginny’s boyfriend. And I already know who this is since the word Dad came up on the caller ID.”

Pause. “That depends on why you’re calling. If you are calling to apologize to Ginny, then I’ll have no problem handing the phone to her. If you’re just calling to check on her since she was in the news for getting shot at, then I’ll tell you that she’s fine, surrounded by good friends and my family, who adore her. If you’re calling for any other reason, then the answer is no. At least not now. She can call you when she feels like it, if she feels like it.”

Pause. “Those are the only options.”

Pause. “Right, then she can call you when she’s ready.” Disconnecting, Brogan tossed the phone to the coffee table and announced, “Sweetheart, your dad’s a dick.”

Ginny burst out laughing, her head leaning back, full belly laughing that made everyone in the room smile. Wiping tears from her eyes, she held her side, saying, “You could not be more right.” After a moment, as her mirth slowed, she sighed heavily. “You know, honey, I could have handled him.”

“Your parents haven’t come to see you in the two years you’ve been here. You told me they also haven’t called to see how you are doing. I know you worked the past two Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays because you’ve had no family to spend it with. Something that ends now. And I also know you are more than competent to handle them. But right now, with the reminder that just two days ago I might not be sitting here with you in my arms, is too damn fresh for me to let one more thing steal your peace.”

Ginny’s eyes filled with tears as she swallowed deeply. “You’ve got my back,” she whispered, clutching his face with her hands, the feel of his steel arms around her. Embracing. Protecting.

“Always got your back, baby,” he agreed.

Brogan took her lips again, his arms wrapped tightly around her body, making sure to avoid her bruised side. As Corrine and Katelyn worked in the kitchen, Brogan leaned back, tucking Ginny’s head against his heartbeat.