By Friday, Rayne and I greet each other when we arrive at Night Eagle in the morning. We’re polite when we bump into each other in the lounge grabbing coffee or heating up lunch. On Wednesday, when the guys went out for lunch she refused to come. It put a pain in my chest, leaving her alone at her desk while we went out to eat. I’m not sure why, I know I’m not responsible for her. But it did. And I walk her to her car at the end of every day.

It’s killing me. The fact that I can’t stop thinking about why she left me all those years ago. How could she have just walked away from everything we had? Was it all in my head? Maybe she wasn’t as serious about me back then as I was about her. Maybe she never saw a future with me. Fuck. Just thinking about it makes me want to hit something.

I’m going to ask her. But I haven’t found the right time. As it is, she’s skittish as hell around me, and I don’t want to make that worse.

We haven’t spoken about the past or our feelings or whatever the natural, combustible attraction that seems to sizzle between us is. So far, it’s working for us.

At least that’s what I tell myself when my body pulls me toward her desk whether I want to go or not. And the way I physically react when I see her twirl a piece of that black, black hair around her finger while she’s staring at something on her computer screen.

I’ve been comparing this Rayne to the one I knew in high school. To the one I knew intimately. The differences are subtle, but they’re there. The way she carries herself is the biggest variation. In high school, she was a quiet girl. She was always gorgeous, but she had no clue how much. I was the outgoing one, pulling her to sit with me and the other football players at lunch. Dragging her to parties with the most popular kids in school—the ones she couldn’t care less about. She was happy just to be with me, but I knew she didn’t want to do half of the things I did.

But not this Rayne. This Rayne is quick to offer a helping hand or a smile to one of the guys. Every time I hear it I want to punch the man who made it happen. It’s insane, because these guys are like my brothers. But dammit if I’m not pissed every single time they make her light up. Her laugh is the best thing I’ve ever heard. It’s big and boisterous, and sometimes she laughs so hard she starts to hiccup.

And then there’s her sailor’s mouth.

The girl never uttered a curse word back then. Her family was very religious, attending Catholic church every Wednesday night and Sunday morning. She didn’t dare utter a curse word back then. But now? Now she curses just as well as we do, and that’s saying a whole damn lot.

I can’t figure out the thing that makes her the most different, though. Can’t pinpoint the cause, can’t quite put my finger on exactly what it is that makes her seem even warmer, more loving, more thoughtful than she was before. She was always a sweet, kind girl. It’s what made me fall for her in the first place. But now it’s like that sweetness has been amplified. And it’s in direct conflict with her dirty mouth, which just makes me want to know more. It makes me want a lot of things I know I shouldn’t, that I can’t have.

Even when I tell it not to, my body reacts to her. Every time she pulls her lip between her teeth. Every time her midnight blue eyes meet mine and smolder with some unseen emotion. Every single time I see a peek of the perky breasts that were really nice in high school, but are just spectacular now.

And I’m having a more difficult time every day hiding the way my stomach clenches when she checks her phone with that look of fear on her face.

It’s at one of these times that I don’t fight the pull and stalk toward her desk. Snatching the phone from her hand, I read the text that put the disturbed expression in her eyes.

“Jeremy! What the fuck?”

Ignoring her pissed-off shout, my eyes narrow and my teeth clamp shut when I read the words on her screen.

Rage explodes inside me. Glancing around the lobby, where Grisham and Dare are acting like they’re not listening to us, but who are clearly paying attention, I grasp her by the elbow and tow her and the phone down the hallway and into the lounge.

Tossing her phone onto a countertop, I spin her around until she’s pressed against the nearest wall. I cage her in with my arms, leaning forward while taking deep breaths to try and control my temper.

“Tell me about that text, Rayne. Tell me now.” The words are gritted out through my teeth.

“It’s none of your—”

“Dammit, Rayne! If you tell me it’s none of my business I’m probably gonna break something. I know that I shouldn’t care, shouldn’t want to know. But I do! Okay? If someone is threatening you like this, then I need to know about it. I just do.”

She clamps her mouth shut, staring back at me with stubborn fear in her eyes. While I’m watching, a lone tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. She’s too mulish to wipe it away, so it just keeps falling while I trace its track with my gaze.

“Fuck me.” The curse is muttered from me while I use a thumb to wipe the tear away.

“Rayne…I know it’s been a long time. You don’t know the man I am now. But there’s no way in hell I can watch you keep getting these texts—see the fear in your eyes when you read them—and not do something about it. You’re working in an office full of guys that can take out whoever this is. But you have to trust me enough to let me help you.”

She sniffs. “I don’t trust anyone, Jer.”

Jer. The nickname rocks me, sending me reeling into the past where her plump lips would utter that name on a sigh while I kissed the sweetest spot in the world—the hollow right above her collarbone.

Blinking, I shake off the image and dip my head a little. “I know. What I don’t know is why. What happened to you?”

Her mouth stays firmly closed.

“You think I’m gonna let this go, Rayne?”

She just stares up at me, a war going on in her eyes. It’s like she wants to tell me what’s happening, but something inside won’t let her. She doesn’t want me to get close.

I’m suddenly aware of the fact that we’re only inches apart. I can smell her. The fresh, slightly sweet scent of something floral washes over me, mixed with the hint of spice that is just Rayne. This Rayne.

“I just want to help you,” I whisper, before letting my thumb roam over her soft skin.

One hand is still braced against the wall while my thumb sweeps a path across her cheekbone, and even though I’m fighting the lust bubbling up inside me, my cock swells in my jeans. Taunting me. Forcing me to think about what she’d look like now if she were lying naked under me. All that gorgeous black hair splayed out on the pillows, my name falling from her lips while I please her.

Whether I’m willing to admit it or not, that’s still a deep, dark desire inside me. Pleasing her. And I don’t want to just please her. No, I want to possess her, to own her. Because a long time ago, I did. But she slipped through my fingers, and I was left wondering how the hell I lost her.

The urge to close the last remaining inches between us and kiss her is intolerable. Like she can read my thoughts, her pupils dilate and her chest rises and falls with a heavy breath.

It takes all my strength, but I push back from the wall and back away, not going far but putting some distance between us.

Much needed distance.

But I keep her in my sights. I’m waiting.

Taking a deep, shuddering sigh, she hangs her head. “There’s someone in Phoenix…a guy I used to work for.”

My body goes rigid with where this story might be going. Rayne with another guy? Of course there were other guys, it’s been over nine fucking years.

She shakes her head quickly. “Not like that. He was just my boss.”

I try not to be relieved, and fail. “And?”

“And he’s looking for me.”

That’s all she gives me. Taking a step forward, I fold my arms across my chest.

“Why, Rayne? If you two weren’t…why would he be looking for you? And why don’t you want him to find you?”

She grabs her phone off the counter, clutching it to her chest like protection.

Come on, Rayne. Trust me. Tell me. Why are you so scared?

“I, uh, didn’t give him any notice when I left. I got a bad feeling about him and just took off. There’re loose ends back there.”

Shaking my head slowly, I assess her. Her stiff posture, the way she isn’t looking me in the eye.

She’s lying.

“Do you want me to find him?”

Startling, she finally looks up at me. “Can you do that?”

With a shrug, I shoot her a small smile. “You really don’t get who we are and what we do here, do you?”

She returns my smile with a shaky one of her own. “Um…well, I guess you don’t need to find him. I know his name and where he lives. I just don’t want him to find me.”

I inhale sharply. “Are you scared he’ll hurt you?”

I can see with her reluctance that it goes against every ounce of independent strength she has to admit it, but finally she nods.

I hiss out a breath through my teeth. “Give me his name, Rayne. We’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near you.”

Stark relief scrawls across her features. “Really? Thanks Jeremy.”

Nodding, I move toward the door and beckon that she come with me. “It’s not a problem. But today’s Friday, and I don’t want to go the weekend without being able to let you know what I find out. Why don’t you give me your number so I can update you?”

She nods, handing me her phone. I plug my number in and send myself a quick text while she turns off her computer and gathers her stuff. When I hand her back the phone, she offers me a small smile.

“Thanks. For this. I mean.…you didn’t have t—”

“I want to.” My interruption has her looking at me with a new expression in her eyes. It’s not quite trust, but it’s something closer to it.

Progress.

When she’s ready to go, I lead her out of the building and walk her to her car. Before she gets in, she turns to me and throws her arms around my neck.

Stooping so she can reach me, something warm and liquid melts inside me. She whispers in my ear, and a shiver crawls down my back as a result.

“Thank you.” Her voice trembles, going so soft it’s barely a whisper against my skin. Her arms squeeze tightly around my neck, but the pressure is welcome.

I can’t answer her. It might be because of the lump that finds its way inside my throat, but I gently push her into her car and close her door. She stares at me for a few seconds, just watching me with an unreadable expression on her face. It feels like she’s summing me up or evaluating me. But for what? For whether or not I’ll be able to protect her when she needs it?

I’ve started parking right beside her every morning when I arrive, so I unlock the Land Cruiser with my key fob and climb into the truck while she reverses and pulls out of her parking spot. I watch, still thinking about the way her body felt pressed up against mine, when she pulls out into the street.

It’s because I’m watching that I notice the dark sedan start up and pull out two cars behind her.

It shouldn’t have gotten my attention; it normally wouldn’t be a big deal.

But something feels wrong, and with what she just told me about the guy she’s afraid of from Phoenix, I immediately start the Land Cruiser and pull out after them.

Years spent first as an enlisted soldier, then as a member of Special Forces, then as a part of the elite team at Night Eagle, my instincts have been sharpened. Right now, my nose is telling me that something stinks.

The little silver coupe weaves in and out of busy five o’clock traffic. I’m following, always two or three cars behind her sedan tail. I’m waiting, waiting to see if the other car will drop off, make a turn, anything to prove to me he’s not following Rayne.

But he stays with her, making unease in my gut grow into urgency.

“Okay, asshole. You want to follow her? You get to deal with me, too.” I grit my teeth, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white.

I’ve seen the other guys deal with personal cases. The assistant who used to work for Night Eagle stalked Grisham’s fiancée, Greta. Grisham was a machine when he found out, bent on keeping his girl safe from a psychopath. I was on the force when I first met Dare. His girlfriend, Berkeley, had been kidnapped. He wasn’t going to stop hunting the man who took her, not until she was back in his arms again.

Maybe Rayne and I aren’t like them.…We’re not together. And I’m not…shit, I don’t know. I’m not responsible for her. But this feeling inside me, watching someone follow her home, it’s an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. Like I’d fight my way through any obstacle to make sure she’s safe.

After fifteen minutes, Rayne pulls into a residential subdivision. Winding through the neat, manicured streets lined with live oaks and cookie-cutter houses, Rayne’s brake lights flash and her right signal begins to blink.

There’s one car separating her and her tail, who I’m now directly behind. Anger boils in my blood when I see the bright red of the sedan’s brakes.

Not today, motherfucker.

When Rayne pulls into the driveway of a white two-story, I gun my engine, swing out from behind the sedan, and pull out beside him. Staring the driver down through my passenger side window, I jerk my chin forward, indicating he should keep going.

If he wants to keep breathing today, he will.

I want to get my hands on him, and I want it to happen now. I want to know who he is and what he’s doing following Rayne home from work. But I noted his license plate, and that’ll have to be enough for now.

Rayne’s the priority.

I pull into the driveway right behind Rayne. She’s already climbing out of the coupe, and as I jump out of the Land Cruiser I can read the shock on her face.

“Jeremy? What are you—?”

The sedan’s engine revs as it continues down the block, and Rayne’s question is cut off as she stares after it. Her face drains of color and she drops her purse on the ground.

“Oh God, Jeremy—was that…was he…?” Her hands float up to tug on the ends of her hair.

Striding forward, I wrap her in my arms, turning her to face the house. I scan the street, searching in both directions for any sign of the sedan or any other suspicious-looking vehicles in the area. The street seems clear, but I can’t shake the anxiety in my stomach.

Too close. Too close. What if I hadn’t seen the sedan pull out behind her? What if I hadn’t been able to follow her home?

The thought sends an oily finger of fear curling around my stomach.

“Rayne? What just happened?”

A woman’s voice, from the house next-door, has my head swiveling in that direction.

And then two little boys bound out of the house behind her, their excited chatter lighting up the world around them.

The little boy with dark hair and green eyes? Him, I recognize. He’s the same kid with the Nerf football at the grocery story on Monday.

I feel rather than see Rayne tense up beside me. I turn to her, ready to ask her what danger she just perceived, when the dark-haired little boy jumps onto the driveway with both feet slamming onto the ground. With an athletic swivel, he bounds toward Rayne with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“Whoa, that car just screeched away like the movies! We were watching from the window!”

Rayne turns to me, her eyes wide and full of something I can’t comprehend. I glance down at the kid again, and then back up at Rayne. There’s nothing in my mind that sets off alarm bells, nothing that alerts me to anything amiss. I’m about to open my mouth and ask her what’s wrong, when the kid pipes up again.

“Hey, I know you. Saw you at the store. You’re the football player!”

Glancing down at him, I shoot him a smile. He’s a pretty damn cute kid with all that dark hair and those striking green eyes.

And then he turns those eyes, full of adoration and curiosity, onto Rayne.

“Mom? Is he your friend?”

Mom? Wait…what? The fuck?

The bottom drops out from under me and I’m freefalling, the terrifying sensation you get when you’ve jumped but your chute doesn’t open right away. Everything I thought I knew about my life and this woman shifts, tilts, changes…

And my world splinters apart.