The room was quiet, the only noise the crickets singing their songs outside the bedroom window. I was curled up against Ash while he absentmindedly twined a strand of my damp hair around his fingers, and I traced random patterns over his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked for what was quite possibly the hundredth time.

“Yes,” I said, dropping a kiss to his chest. “I’m better than okay. I’m perfect.”

“I wasn’t too rough with you?”

I laughed. “This coming from a man who likes to tie me up and spank me until I can’t sit down the next day.”

“I know,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I could have really hurt you.”

“You could always hurt me with the other stuff too.”

“No,” he growled. “That’s all about control. This was—”

But Ash’s statement was cut off by the sound of Blanche’s angry bark shattering the silent night.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and my heart thumped with a rush of adrenaline.

In the blink of an eye, Ash jumped out of bed and pulled on his jeans. “Stay there,” he barked, tugging open a drawer and pulling out a handgun.

I hopped out of bed and started throwing on whatever clothes I could find. Standing in the middle of the room clad only in my underwear and the t-shirt Ash had been wearing earlier, I watched, wide-eyed, as he checked the gun’s magazine, slid it in place, and flicked the safety.

Passing me the weapon, I cradled it in my shaking hands and stared down at it in horror. It’d been twenty years since I’d last fired a gun, and that had been an old .22 my uncle used to shoot cans with out in the desert. I’d always meant to learn how to properly handle one, but there’d never seemed a reason to.

Until now.

I jumped when Blanche barked again, angrier and more aggressive sounding. Immediately afterward came the sound of shattering glass and a thud. Dorothy’s whimpers filled the silence, and my eyes brimmed with tears, knowing those two beautiful pups were downstairs trying to protect us from whatever was coming for me.

From the man who wanted me dead.

Ash stood in front of me, his hands gripping my biceps tight. Crowding my vision, he said, “I’m going out there. I want you to lock yourself in the bathroom. If anyone comes through that door who isn’t me, shoot the mother fucker square in the chest. Do you understand?”

This can’t be happening.

I thought we were safe out here. How’d he find us? And where were the rest of Ash’s men, the ones who were supposed to be patrolling the property’s perimeter? All these and a million other questions flashed through my mind. I couldn’t speak; I didn’t know what to say.

Because of me, Ash’s team could be hurt—or worse—and my two furry buddies, the sweetest pups you’d ever meet, were downstairs taking the brunt of my stalker’s assault. Who was he that he could take on two military trained German Shepherds and not go down?

“Do you understand, Rae?” Ash demanded, his fingers digging into my flesh.

“Yes,” I whispered.

I understood, but I couldn’t imagine actually doing it. Couldn’t imagine a scenario where whoever stepped through that door wasn’t Ash returning to me. Couldn’t fathom a world in which Chip Noones bested an Army Green Beret. Couldn’t wrap my mind around how I’d go on if Ash was taken from me.

He shoved me toward the bathroom as he strode toward the door. “Remember, if he comes through that door instead of me, shoot the motherfucker and don’t stop. Keep pulling that trigger until you’ve emptied the magazine. And then once he’s down, kick him in the nuts and in the face, and keep on kicking him until he’s a bloody pulp. Don’t let up until you’re sure he’s never getting up.”

Abruptly turning, he took three purposeful strides and tugged me tight against him before his lips crashed down. After too brief a kiss, he pulled back and slid a set of keys into the pocket at my chest. “Don’t stop to worry about me, or the dogs, or anyone else. If he gets to you, it’s too late for any of us. Take him down and then get the fuck out of here. Don’t turn back.”

I flicked my eyes between his, my vision blurring. I was light headed and felt sick to my stomach. Only an hour ago, we’d made love, the kind of physical bonding I’d never known before. I’d given myself over to this man—mind, body, and soul—and now he was telling me this might be the end? That Chip Noones, whoever the fuck he was, might take all this away from me?

No!

I straightened my spine and stiffened my shoulders. That was not going to happen.

This was not how our story ended.

This is just the beginning, were my last thoughts as Ash slipped out the door, his gun held aloft.

Heeding his directives, I flipped the lock and then backed toward the bathroom, the pistol heavy and foreign in my hand. As I closed the door, I heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Pop, pop, pop.

Three shots.

Three bullets discharged, and I had no idea who’d fired them or who they’d hit.

I slumped down to the floor, my knees giving out. Watching, waiting … counting down the seconds until my fate was known.

Ash has to come back to me. He absolutely has to.

I couldn’t live without him.