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She sat the note on the bed and reached inside the envelope for the newspaper. The front page had her picture on it with a needle in her hand the day she sedated Dodo. Down below it, there was a white pit bull—obviously not Dodo—lying in a puddle of blood. The headline read: Trusted family vet killed beloved pet.

She threw the newspaper aside and pulled out the photos, gasping at what she saw. Pictures of her and Jackson every time they were together. Intimate pictures, naked pictures, on the couch, at the motel, in the cemetery, in her bed—she flipped through them all and even spotted some at the hospital and in the park.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” Jackson asked after a while.

“I’m going to kill him!” She shoved all the stuff back in the envelope and pushed past her father and brothers with a harsh, “Move!”

How dare he. Tears of rage formed in her eyes. After all I’ve done for him. After all the hell I’ve put up with from him, he treats me like this.

“What was in the package?” Jackson followed behind Autumn, the Major, Davis, and Nick on his heels.

“He just made this little battle a full-fledged war.” She sat on the couch to lace up her tennis shoes. “I’m ending this today.”

“You’re not going to see him alone, Autumn. No negotiations.” Jackson crossed his arms, standing firm.

“Excuse me? What did you say to me?” She grabbed her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder.

“You’re not going by yourself.” Jackson narrowed his eyes. “And you’re going to tell me what was in the envelope.”

“You think you can make me?”

“If I have to handcuff you to the bed again, I will.”

Davis snickered behind them, being the only one in the room that knew what he was talking about.

“Don’t push me, Jackson. I’m already pissed off as it is.”

“Tough.” He grabbed the envelope from her hands. She screamed at him and tried to get it back. Jackson opened it and pulled out a couple of pictures.

“Son of a bitch.” He flipped through them before turning back to Autumn. “How were these taken? This one is in your home? How the fuck did he get pictures of us in your home?”

“I don’t know.” And she didn’t. Anyone of them could have been taken through the window she supposed, but most of the blinds were down and the curtains pulled at all times. Especially at intimate times.

“The motel, too?” Jackson asked outraged. “The cemetery. The park. The clinic. Your bedroom. The only one he’s missing is our time spent in the fucking bathroom!”

“You didn’t read the paper.” Autumn pointed to the envelope. “He sent a note and a newspaper along with the pictures.”

She glanced over at her family and blushed at the hard looks on each one of their faces. She wasn’t about to let her family see pictures of her and Jackson and really didn’t want to show them to the police.

Jackson shifted, pulling the paper from the envelope. After reading the headlines he threw it at the couch. He grabbed the note next and crumbled it in his hand.

“You’re staying here, Autumn.” He looked up at Davis. “Nick, Davis, let’s go.”

The two men moved forward, not bothering to ask questions. Autumn stared, jaw dropped. “No. I’m going to take care of my problem.”

Jackson eyes narrowed, his jaw hardening. “No. You’re going to sit your ass on that couch”—he pointed—“and let us handle this.”

Autumn fumed. “You are not going to tell me what to do.”

Jackson grabbed the newspaper and the crunched note and shoved them back in the envelope. “I just did.”

Autumn glanced over at her father. He simply stood there watching the three men pack up to leave. “Be sure to call Jeffery so you have the law on your side.”

“Doing it right now, Dad.” Davis punched the number in his cell phone and stepped outside on the porch.

“What are you going to do?” Autumn grabbed Jackson’s arm. When he didn’t stop, she followed him in her bedroom stopping in the middle of the room while he rummaged through his bag. “Answer me, Jackson. What are you going to do?”

He grabbed his gun and checked the ammunition. “I’m ending it.”