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Notme.

Rage explodes in my chest, tearing through me like wildfire.

I wake up sweating, fists clenched, stomach twisted with fury and need. The dream won’t leave me. I canseeit, burned into my brain.Caleb touching her. Kissing her. Taking what’s mine.

It was just a dream, but I know the truth. If I don’t do something now, I will lose her. She’ll slip through my fingers, and I won’t survive it.

That’s not happening.

I shove the sheets off and sit up, breath ragged. My hands are already moving, grabbing my keys, my wallet. I don’t even have to think about where I’m going.

The bell chimes when I walk into the tattoo parlor. The guy behind the counter looks up, bored. “You have an appointment?”

I ignore him, stepping up to the counter. “I need ink.”

He nods, setting down a pen. “Yeah, sure. What are you thinking?”

I slide a piece of paper across the glass. He picks it up, eyes scanning the design.

He lifts a brow. “You want thiswhere?”

I smirk. “Not on me.”

Confusion creases his forehead. “Then—”

“I’ll take the gun and the ink.”

His mouth opens. Shuts. He looks like he wants to argue, but I pull out a stack of cash and drop it on the counter. That shuts him up.

He eyes me warily but hands over the kit. “You know how to use this?”

I don’t answer. Just grab the supplies and walk out.

The house is dark when I pull up. The porch light is off, but I know she’s inside. Sleeping. Unaware.

I climb out of the car, moving fast, quiet. I know where her room is. I’ve climbed through that window before. But when I reach it, my jaw tightens.

It’s locked.She locked me out.I stare at it, breathing through my nose. My fingers curl into fists.

Fine. If she wants to play games, I’ll play.

I move to the front door instead. I have the spare fucking key, but the window invitation was a lot more fun than strolling on in. Slipping inside the house, I close the door behind me, careful, silent.

The house is still. The only sound is the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Coach is here somewhere, sleeping down the hall. If he wakes up and finds me—

Doesn’t matter. He’s never going to know.

I take the stairs slow, my heart pounding steady in my chest. When I reach her door, I press my palm against it.

She’s right here.

So close.

I push it open.

She’s curled in bed, her body relaxed, her breaths soft and even. My gaze drags over her, taking in every inch. The way her hair spills over her pillow. The way her lips are slightly parted.

She’s fucking perfect.