They exited the club and stepped onto Western Avenue. Damp, fresh air from the earlier rain filled her lungs. She looked up the hill to where the car was parked two blocks away.

“Are you okay?” Landon asked at her side.

“What? Yeah.” She wasn’t going to lean on him. She’d already done that too many times to count, and she was determined to be her old self. She started walking. Halfway up the hill, her lungs grew thick and her breath labored. They passed a storefront window, and from the corner of her eye she caught their reflection, but she forced herself not to look closely. She couldn’t, because she knew she wouldn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Right now she needed to focus. Needed to think about Eve. Needed to do anything to keep her mind away from the past.

“We can stop if you’re tired.”

“No,” she huffed, pressing her hands against her knees as she leaned forward and forced her feet to keep moving up the hill. “I’m . . . fine.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Strong arms wrapped around Olivia from behind, and she gasped as her feet left the ground and she found herself cradled against Landon’s muscular chest. She pressed a hand against his bulging pec and then regretted it. It was big. Strong. Safe. “P-put me down.”

“Why? So you can fucking collapse on me?”

Moments in the back of that van rushed through her mind, and she slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head back and forth, digging her fingernails into his muscles. “Don’t swear. Don’t . . . I can’t . . .”

“Okay. Okay, just breathe. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. That’s it. In and out. You’re okay.”

The city seemed to swirl around Olivia, but slowly she realized her feet were on the ground, she was leaning into Landon’s muscular body, and his arms were wrapped tight around her, his hand running up and down her spine in a languid motion, his voice right at her ear, reassuring her with his words and warm breath.

She opened her eyes and blinked several times. He’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and was now leaning back against the wall of a building while she tried to work her way down from a panic attack she couldn’t remember starting. People passed on the busy street. Several glanced their way, but no one stopped. She focused on the push and draw of air in her lungs and the soft brush of his fingers against her spine. Told herself she was safe, that she wasn’t in that van, that she wasn’t going back there. Ever.

“That’s better,” Landon said softly in her ear. “That’s—”

Something in his pocket vibrated. He let go of her and pulled out a phone.

“Damn.” He cringed. “Sorry. I need to take this.”

Olivia nodded and tried to back out of his arms, but he held her tight, not letting her move, and part of her was grateful. She sank back into him while he lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Miller.”

Her cheek pressed against his chest. Warmth seeped from him into her, and the strong, steady beat of his heart calmed her in a way nothing else could.

“Yeah.” His voice echoed through his chest and into her, sending vibrations all through her body. “I know where that is. No, I’ve got her. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’ll have her call from the car when we’re on our way.”

They—whoever he was talking to—were discussing her. The independent thirty-year-old inside told her to suck it up and stop leaning on him, but her body wasn’t listening. And though she knew this was hero worship at its finest, she didn’t care. He smelled too wonderful, felt too good, and for a moment, she needed the comfort.

“Okay. Will do.” He tugged the phone from his ear and slipped it back in his pocket, and then his other arm came around her, holding her close all over again. And she couldn’t fight the sigh that slipped from her lips, or the way she snuggled in tighter and just let him hold her.

“Wh-who was that?” she asked against him, not making any move to pull away.

“My boss,” he answered, not giving her a chance. “Your sister’s at a safe house north of here. If you want to see her, I can take you to her.”

Olivia lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. They weren’t just brown like she’d originally thought. They were a warm, rich chocolate with flecks of gold and green, all swirled together in a mix that made her wonder which was the true him. The way he’d taken her captors out in that yard flashed in her mind, contrasting so strongly with the way he was holding her now, like she was made of glass, like she was the most fragile thing in the world. Part of her could barely believe he was the same person.

But he was. The jagged scar across the side of his face and the other near his chin proved he was more than just her comfort. He was a force not to be crossed. And soon she’d be home, and he would be out of her life for good.

She swallowed hard, not wanting to think about that too much just yet. The thought of going home—to that small house where she’d been grabbed in the first place—left a hole the size of the Grand Canyon right in the middle of her belly. “You’ll take me to Eve?”

“Yes. On one condition. You eat something. Those fluids at the hospital weren’t enough. You need energy.”

Her stomach rolled at the thought of food, but she nodded. She did need to eat. She needed to get stronger. Needed to get better. Needed to forget everything that had happened, so she could stop leaning on him once and for all. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He released her, then swept her into his arms all over again.

This time she didn’t try to wiggle free. “I can walk, you know.”

“I know. But I like this better. Humor me.”

She liked it better too. And if she was going to be with him for only a few more hours, she was going to enjoy every last second.

She settled into him and sighed.

21

Eve stood at the counter in the massive kitchen, chopping vegetables for the stir-fry Zane was making. Someone had recently stocked the refrigerator as if they knew the house were about to be used, which seemed so strange to Eve—having people who rushed around preparing things for your arrival. She’d gotten so used to doing things on her own over the years, she couldn’t comprehend relying on others like that.

Soft lips pressed against the nape of her neck, and the knife stilled in her hand as she felt Zane move in at her back. He threaded one arm around her waist and up under the shirt she’d grabbed from the master closet. Something else she couldn’t comprehend. He’d said this house belonged to a client, but when he’d told her to find something clean to wear in the closet, she’d been startled to discover a variety of women’s clothing, in all different sizes.

Zane’s palm pressed against her bare lower belly, and he splayed his fingers, sending tiny tremors of heat all through her body. His other hand reached around for a yellow pepper from the cutting board. “Don’t cut me, beautiful.”

He popped the pepper in his mouth and chewed, and a chuckle vibrated at her back when he kissed her nape again. “Tasty. But not as tasty as you.”

He eased away, and as she heard the sizzle and pop of the wok at the stove, she closed her eyes and tried to tell herself she hadn’t just fucked things up royally by sleeping with him again—correction, by making love with him. But a tiny voice in the back of her head said she had. That if she’d hoped to save his life, it was going to be near impossible now.

“Are those almost ready?”

His voice dragged her out of her wandering mind and back to the moment. Setting the knife down, she lifted the cutting board and took it over to him at the stove. “Here.”

She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she knew she needed to eat. Plus, making a meal kept her hands busy and her mind off her sister and Carter and everything else she couldn’t change now.

“There’s wine in the cellar,” Zane said, stuffing one hand into the front pocket of his low-slung jeans, using the wooden spoon in the other to stir the steaming vegetables. “Why don’t you go pick one out?

“Really?” Eve wiped her hand on a dishtowel and lifted her brows. “The owner won’t care?”

Zane chuckled. “Trust me, he won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Curiosity got the best of her. She leaned a hip against the granite counter. “What kind of guy has women’s clothing in different sizes hanging in his closet? Whose house is this?”

Zane lifted the pan and shook the vegetables around. “You listen to much rock music?”

“Some.”

“What about reality TV?”

Eve’s brow lowered. “Not much. Not a lot of it overseas.”

“A few years ago there was this guy on one of those singing shows who tore up the charts. Really made a name for himself. He didn’t win, I think he placed like third, but he was the big story of the season.”

Eve didn’t watch a lot of TV in general, but she did like to page through magazines in the airport. She thought back to what she knew about those voice competition shows, and when she realized who he was talking about, her eyes flew open wide. “Tate Kendrick. You’re saying the front man for Kendrick, the wildly popular rock band that’s exploded these last few years, owns this house?”

He nodded. “Aegis did some security work for him. After his success on that reality show, his band totally took off. He’s got a place on Whidbey Island. This is just his ski chalet.”

“His ski chalet.” Eve glanced around the enormous great room with its great everything. “I can’t imagine what his real house looks like.”

Zane chuckled and stirred the veggies again. “He likes Ryder, though why, I don’t know. Gave us free reign of the place, including the wine cellar.” He pointed toward a door at the far end of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go see what you can find?”