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The fact that the fire was started so late at night when she was likely to be sleeping and not prepared to escape leads me to believe it was a lot more malicious than a simple scare tactic.

It wasn’t so long ago that I was sitting at a table surrounded by my friends, so grateful to Victory for including Ashley and making her feel comfortable enough to join us.

There were awkward moments, but overall it was a great night where we made some real progress burying the past.

And it ended with attempted murder.

It takes longer than it should, but Ashley runs into my arms and squeezes me tight, rubbing her hands up and down my back as though she’s the one comforting me.

Trying to protect me is noble, but it’s also misguided. If we’re both targets, then that fact has already been established, and her leaving won’t change anything except making her more vulnerable. I’m not worried about my ability to defend myself and what belongs to me.

But I am worried about her all alone where I can’t save her.

Goddammit, I’m falling back in love with the girl.

If I ever stopped loving her in the first place.

“I’m so sorry.” She’s repeating the words over and over again like a mantra, and I hate how guilt is eating her up.

I understood the risks of inviting her here. It’s much worse than I imagined since I had only been expecting threats and maybe some vandalism, not actual violence.

But the harsh reality just makes it even more important that she stays close to me.

“Ashley.” I wait until she turns her tear-stained eyes up to meet mine. “You have nothing to be sorry about, okay?”

“But it’s me who–”

“No. You can’t be sorry for how other people are choosing to act.”

“But–”

I rest a finger on her lips. “No buts.”

“I need to leave,” she insists.

“Listen to me closely, woman,” I growl. “You’re not leaving. Got it? You need to stay and let me fight the battle for you this time. Quash the threat. Bury the past for good. You’re. Not. Leaving. Do you understand me?”

A flurry of emotions crosses her face so quickly that I can’t name a single one of them. But then she bites her full lower lip, and the move almost has me inappropriately groaning.

“Yes, sir,” she replies.

“Good girl.”

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispers.

“Let me decide this time, okay?”

She nods and rises to her tiptoes to kiss me. “Gav, I…”

The unspoken words hang in the air and I’m holding my breath, waiting for the rest of her confession.

It’s possible she’s about to speak what’s in my heart.

”…Appreciate you so much,” she finishes.

So, she wasn’t about to confess her undying love for me, or else she was and she chickened out. Either way, we have time to sort our relationship out.

But we don’t have time to waste on her trying to run away.