It was close to nine when Kate left her bedroom. She needed fresh air. She didn’t see any sign of Michael as she entered the living room and exited to the balcony.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there looking out at the city, but she could feel Michael’s presence before he spoke.

“I have an update.”

She tensed at the sound of his words and slowly turned to face him. “Yeah?”

He sat on one of the lounge chairs and gripped the arms. “Erick Jensen is out of town. And I spoke to your father. He corroborated Nathan’s story. He also mentioned knowing Erick, as well. But I feel like something is off with your dad. I don’t know.”

“You think he’s keeping something from you? Why would he do that?” She rubbed her arms, trying to push away a sudden chill.

“I’m not sure.”

She forced herself to take a seat on the chair next to Michael. She didn’t think her legs would support the weight of her body any longer.

“You cold? The temperature here drops a little at night.”

“No, I’m okay. The breeze feels good.” The coldness of her body and skin had nothing to do with the weather.

“You haven’t heard from your stalker since you came here. Maybe he or she got scared off.” He rubbed his temples and glanced at Kate.

“Regardless—”

“You still want to know who killed your mom.” He stood up and folded his arms.

She nodded, then tilted her head back, looking at the starlit sky. Did she believe in heaven? God? Was her mom up there somewhere, the woman that she’d never met?

She could feel the tears brimming to the edges of her eyes. Being in Charlotte was too painful—even if she hadn’t found herself in such a crazy situation, she should have known how coming to this city would affect her.

“Kate!” Michael shouted her name, his face scrunching as he suddenly charged her way.

Before she could even respond, he grabbed her by the forearms and yanked her forward out of the chair. He pressed her to the ground, covering her body with his.

She looked up at him, breathless, as he cupped the back of her head to keep it from hitting the ground. He braced himself over her like some sort of human shield—but why?

“I want you to crawl into the house—and stay behind me, okay?” he whispered.

“Wh—what? Why?”

“Just do it—now.” He shifted back off her as she went to her hands and knees and crawled toward the parted doors. Fear clutched hold of her heart, ringing it tight—but she forced herself to keep moving.

Once inside, Michael stood up and shut the doors, and then he commanded the blinds to close. “We’re okay in here.”

“What the hell was that all about?” she asked while wrapping her arms around her chest, her body trembling as Michael grabbed his phone off the table.

He didn’t answer her, instead, he made a call. “Jake, get over here now. It’s urgent.”

“Talk to me,” she demanded once he ended the call.

He came up in front of her and gripped her forearms, steadying his gaze on hers. “You had a sniper rifle trained on your chest.” He inhaled a sharp breath and stepped back, releasing his hold. “The glass is bulletproof. Don’t worry.”

“I—what?”

“Your stalker had you in his sights. A red dot sight. I know one when I see it.”

She could feel her body tighten, her skin crawl. She wanted to hide inside a shell, snap it closed, and bury herself at the bottom of the deep sea. The situation was hitting her in an all-too-real way. Her skin grew clammy, and her vision blurred.

The next thing she knew, Michael was rushing to her side and holding her upright. “You okay?”

“I think I should sit down.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the couch. “You could’ve been killed. You used your body as a damn shield, Michael,” she bit out, angry at him for risking his life for her—a woman he barely knew. Goddamn you.

“Are you crazy? Of course, I’m going to protect you, but—”

“No, I never meant for you to put your life on the line for me. Jesus, Michael, I should leave—” Michael’s fingers came over her lips, cutting her off.

“Hell, no.” His fingers slipped free from her lips. “I’m in this with you until the end. Until whoever just tried to kill you is in jail or six feet under. Preferably the latter. Got it?”

Her eyes narrowed as she digested his words. “And after—what happens after?” she softly asked. But she knew, didn’t she? Michael would disappear from her life once she was safe.

Michael bowed his head for a moment, his hand resting on her thigh. But before he could answer, the elevators buzzed.

“What’s going on?” Jake blurted the second Michael let him in.

Kate swallowed back her emotion and looked up to see both Jake and Connor standing before her.

Michael pointed to the closed windows. “Someone had a red dot sight focused on Kate’s chest.”

“Shit. Are you okay?” Connor sat beside her.

She looked up into Connor’s light green eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“We might be able to peg the stalker’s location. Can you show me where you think the sniper was located?” Jake asked while approaching the balcony doors.

“No, don’t open them. What if the sniper shoots?” Kate threw her hand in the air.

“I won’t go out there right now, don’t worry.” Jake turned toward Michael. “I can pull up the hotel blueprints. We should be able to triangulate the position of the shooter and go from there. He must be staying in my damn hotel.”

Michael nodded and then left the room for a minute. He returned carrying his laptop and handed it off to Jake. “Connor, maybe we should get Kate’s father over here,” Michael suggested.

“No,” she said. “I don’t want him to know what happened. He’ll freak.”

“It’s your decision,” Michael responded. “Why don’t you get some rest while we figure this out?”

“You think I’m capable of sleep?” Kate rose to her feet and watched as Jake sat in the armchair opposite of her and began working fast on the laptop.

“No, but maybe you should lie down,” Michael answered while coming around behind Jake’s chair so he could see the screen. “You’re safe, remember. Bulletproof glass.”

Thank God you’re paranoid. Who else would install bulletproof glass, other than the President? Or maybe warlords? “Fine,” she said.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Michael cocked his head to the side as his eyes connected with hers.

For some reason, she was getting the vibe that there was some other message embedded in his words—but she figured she was reading into it.

* * *

“Your stalker is playing games. I don’t think he intended to shoot you. He used a fake identity to pay for his hotel room. And he left a note on the bed,” Jake said.

“He what?” She looked away from Jake and over at Michael.

Michael’s mouth was closed and his lips sealed.

Kate reached for the small half-sheet of white paper that Michael offered her. Scribbled in black pen was a message: “They can’t protect you from me, but I’ll enjoy watching them try.”

“We dusted the room for prints, but he left no evidence behind. Well, other than that note. He knew we would find the room. Clearly, he wanted us to.”

She handed the paper back to Michael as a numbness overtook her limbs. Numb was good, though. Numb meant no pain.

“We’ve started looking at the hotel surveillance footage to see if we can put a face to the guy in the room,” Jake said.

She watched from a few feet away, hands clenched at her sides, as Jake sat in front of the laptop with Connor at his side.

It was now after midnight. It had been three hours since someone pointed a sniper rifle at her. In what world was she living now? “How do you know who you’re looking for?”

“Well, anyone who goes out of his way to avoid the cameras would be a good start,” Jake said before shooting her an innocent, sideways grin. “Plus, we’ve narrowed the feeds down to the time when he pointed the gun at you.”

She rubbed her arms and looked at the closed blinds. Her stalker had been at the hotel across the street. For how long? And he had been in her hotel room, watching her sleep, not so long ago.

“Wait. Stop right there,” Connor said. He reached for Jake’s computer and shifted it onto his lap.

Kate came up behind him and watched as Connor pressed a few buttons and zoomed in on the screen, focusing on the reflection of a man in the mirrored elevator doors. “I know him.” There was an air of confidence in his voice as his face registered alarm. “It has to be him.” He rubbed his beard and exhaled. “That’s Dustin Scott.”

“Shit, you’re right. A former sniper for the Navy Seals,” Jake said.

“And he’s a fucking psycho,” Michael added. He was standing next to her now, and he pressed a hand to her back.

“What? You think he’s my stalker?”

“Well, he’s on the FBI’s most wanted list. He’s a hired hitman,” Jake said.

Terror threatened to bring down her entire house of cards in about two point five seconds if someone didn’t make her feel better soon.

“Dustin was in the Navy until he was discharged a few years ago. Word is that he flipped sides and sold secrets to the Taliban insurgents—he’s the kind of guy who will sell his own mother to make a buck,” Jake said.

Just great.

“But the government could never prove anything while he was in the military,” Michael noted.

“Dustin’s good. Really good.” Was Connor trying to petrify her? “This isn’t his normal gig, though. Whoever hired him must be paying a substantial fee.”

“Let’s take a break for a second,” Michael said and reached for Kate’s arm, guiding her to face him. “Are you okay?”

No! She was losing her mind. She began massaging her temples.

Was a murdering ex-Navy Seal really stalking her? And whom should she be more worried about—the sniper or the man or woman who was paying the sniper?

“Do you think that Nathan’s our prime suspect?” she asked after taking a breath.

“I have no idea,” Michael replied in a low voice.

“I assume you’re canceling the auction dates on Friday?” Connor asked.

“Of course,” Michael responded without hesitation.

“You would probably want to kill me if I asked you to keep them as planned.” Jake was standing now, facing Michael.

Michael snorted. “This isn’t the time to be making jokes.”

“Hear me out for a second.” Jake held his palms up, showing that he wasn’t looking for a fight.

Kate stared at Michael, wondering how he would respond to Jake. He stood tense and focused, with a clamped jaw and fists at his sides. He was ready to box.

“Don’t even suggest it.” Michael glared at Jake with dark eyes—there was some unspoken conversation going on between them.

“That we use Kate as bait?” Jake raised a brow and Michael tensed. “Dustin won’t expect Kate to be out in public after the stunt he pulled. It will piss him off that Kate isn’t scared. If we show Dustin we aren’t up for playing his games, then maybe he’ll make an uncalculated and irrational move—and we can get him.” Jake crossed his arms. “He obviously wants a challenge. He practically all but guaranteed zero access to Kate by focusing the sniper on her. I don’t know what his deal is, but I do know that he’ll never expect Kate to be on that date. He’ll screw up, and we can get him.”

“So, you think we can draw Dustin out?” Connor looked a little too casual as he remained seated. He leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“Not going to happen,” Michael said in a low, but firm voice.

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Kate raised her hand in the air. “As scared as I am, hiding away in Michael’s fortress will only prolong things. Jake is right about that. And I really want this over. I want to know who hired Dustin. I want my life back.”

Michael took a step away from Kate and gripped the back of his neck. “Maybe his mission has only been to scare you. If he wanted to hurt you—or even kidnap you—then he wouldn’t be playing such games.”

“Understanding the mind of a lunatic is not so easy,” Connor reminded them. “He enjoys the hunt. The challenge. Remember, he used to scour the globe for terrorists.”

Connor was now on the receiving end of Michael’s icy stare. “The discussion ends here,” he said, and then left the room.

Kate heard a door slam. While the discussion was far from over, in her estimation, she realized Michael needed to cool off. With time, perhaps he would come around to his senses.

Or maybe he was right.