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ONE

SAVANNAH

Please turn back for a list of trigger warnings.

TEN. NINE. EIGHT. Seven.

I hold my breath, a mixture of dread and hope swirling in my gut as the numbers count down on the wide screen TV in front of me. Six months ago I made myself a promise. And in seven seconds it will be time to either step up and be brave, or continue wallowing in the tub of shame and fear where I’ve been marinating for nearly a year.

And the water’s getting real cold.

Six. Five.

The twist in my stomach pulls tighter, so I down the last of the champagne in my flute, hoping it might offer a little liquid courage. Lord knows I’m gonna need it. I force myself to my feet, pushing up from the huge sofa in the rooming house of Alaskan Security before smoothing out the floral fabric of my dress. As I expect, my sister Sadie quickly turns my way, concern pinching her expression.

I offer a quick smile, hoping it will keep her from insisting on following me. I’m pretty sure it won’t, but it’s worth a shot. “All that champagne ran right through me. I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

As I expected, Sadie starts to get up, ready to serve as the protector she’s designated herself to be. “I’ll come with you.”

Backing away, I continue smiling. It’s a struggle, since my insides are being eaten alive by the sharp teeth of panic. “I’ll be fine. You stay here and get your New Year’s kiss from Jamison.” I keep moving, knowing I can’t slow down. Not only because I’m trying to keep my sister from catching up, but also because it might give me time to rethink my plan.

Or worse, talk myself out of it.

Sadie continues frowning at me, looking as uncertain as I feel. “You sure?”

Before I can reassure either of us, the ball drops into place, signifying the start of the new year. The year I promised myself would be different.

The chaos it unleashes offers a welcome distraction and I take full advantage, turning to rush from the room as soon as my sister glances away.

No one else notices me go. Not a single set of eyes comes my way as I dodge the celebrating couples and kids. It’s not surprising. Most people don’t notice me. Technically, that’s by design.

I don’t want to be seen. Don’t want to worry who might be watching me or what the motives are behind their attention. No one from Alaskan Security would hurt me, I know that. But the fear I’ve been fighting since being abducted by the man trying to force my sister to help him smuggle weapons and drugs into Russia, isn’t always rational. It doesn’t have reasonable limits or thought-out boundaries. It simply is.

And it’s consumed my life. Narrowed my whole world down to a tiny, microscopic pinpoint. That’s why I made myself the promise I did. Because I don’t want to live this way anymore.

The problem is, I don’t know how to not live this way. That’s why, while everyone else toasts and cheers in the new year, I rush down the tunnel connecting the rooming house to the main offices. Tonight, in a shocking turn of the tables, I’m the one doing the hunting. The one with motives and plans.

It’s not as liberating as I’d hoped. It’s just as terrifying as everything else in this world and has my heart racing and my stomach lurching. Not a good start to this new way of living I’m hoping to attain.

I continue on anyway, determined to ignore the biting need to abandon ship and return to the normal I’ve created. It’s safe there. Quiet and calm. It’s also isolated and lonely and has left me in a vicious cycle where fear destroys my hope then hope overwhelms my fear. Round and round they’ve gone for months now, and I have to get off the ride before I get stuck on it forever.

The office building is quiet as I hurry through, tiptoeing across the tile of the glassed-in entryway so my suede ankle boots don’t make a sound. I don’t want anyone else to know what I’m doing—with one exception, I suppose—just in case I fail. And I’m pretty sure I might fail.

I’ve never been brave like my sister. Never been one to take on the world. I don’t expect that to change, but I’d at least like to reclaim a tiny bit of what was stolen from me. And I know exactly who can help me with that.

If I can find him.

My feet stall out. What if he’s not here? What if he was tired and went to bed? Had other plans? What if he’s changed his schedule since I moved off campus? What if tonight he isn’t where he always used to be? I’m not sure I’ll be able to work up the bravery to attempt this a second time, and the realization sits heavy in my rolling gut.

It also gets my feet moving again.

Walking even faster, I do my best not to think too much as I turn down the hall leading to the last connected building—the one I was brought to after being rescued from the man who changed me forever.

The antiseptic scent lingering in the air threatens to pull me back to that time, so I focus on the other smells permeating the block-walled space. Sweat. Rubber. The slightly chemical tang of the fog machines they use in the tactical arena. None of them are particularly pleasant, but they all help keep me in the now instead of sliding away to places I don’t want to go.

Slowing down, I creep toward the door of the on-site gym where my sister and Jamison spend a large chunk of their time. It’s a daunting space for me, but not nearly as intimidating as the lone man currently occupying it.

I let out a breath at the sight of him, relieved he’s still just as much a creature of habit as he used to be. I could set my watch by Zeke. The head of Shadow—Alaskan Security’s most secretive team—is up every day at five. Gets his first cup of coffee at five- thirty and is in his office by five-forty. He eats lunch at eleven and dinner at five.

And works out in the gym every night at midnight.

I’m not sure when he sleeps, but that’s not really my concern. My concern is convincing him to help me the way he helped Mona, the wife of Alaskan Security’s owner. I overheard her telling my sister Sadie how Zeke taught her to defend herself, both with her bare hands and with weapons. Ever since, I’ve made it my mission to accomplish some semblance of the same thing. It’s the first step toward completing the promise I made. I just have to take it.

But it’s even harder than I imagined.

From a distance, Zeke is unnerving. But now that I’m planning to actually speak to him, he’s downright terrifying.

The man is giant. All bulging muscle and hard angles. He’s a full head taller than me and broad enough Sadie and I could both hide behind him without being seen. He frowns more than he smiles and carries himself with a confidence only a man who knows just how deadly he is can.

And I like it. If anyone can teach me how to be just a tiny bit of a badass, it’s the scariest man in Alaska.

And Zeke definitely qualifies as that.

That’s also what has me hesitating. Lingering in the doorway, watching as he lifts a weight that’s likely equivalent to mine with one hand, curling it up to reveal the curved bulge of his gigantic bicep. I stare breathlessly as he lowers it and brings it back, my gaze focused on the slightly sweaty sheen of his tanned skin as it stretches across muscle and sinew.

I can’t peel my eyes away until he’s finished his reps and lowers the dumbbell to the rubber mat covering the floor. It’s only then that I give myself a mental shake. Noticing his muscles or the surprisingly graceful way he moves is not why I’m here.

Unfortunately, when my focus finally lifts to the mirror in front of Zeke, I discover I’m not just watching him. He’s watching me back.

And it makes me forget everything. The reason I’m here. The questions I’m supposed to ask. My name and address. I might even forget how to breathe, because right now, with Zeke’s laser sharp focus fixed entirely on me, my head starts to swim. After working so hard to escape notice for nearly a year, his undivided attention is overwhelming.

It also causes a strange fluttering in my belly.

Zeke slowly stands, his eyes holding mine in the mirror. I manage to pull in a little air as he turns, the momentary break in his attention allowing me to breathe. But only for a second. As soon as he’s facing me, I’m once again all he looks at. And my lungs once again forget how to do their job.

His steps are slow and measured as he comes my way. “Is something wrong, Savannah?”

Jesus Mary and Joseph. He knows my name. Maybe I haven’t been flying as far under the radar as I thought.

I lick my lips, trying to find a little moisture in my suddenly dry mouth. “Nothing’s wrong.” I swallow hard as he continues closing the gap between us.

I came here to talk to him. To beg him to help me. But now that I’m faced with the reality of what that will entail, words fail me. Thinking fails me. Even my eyelids don’t seem to remember how to blink, leaving me staring at the broad expanse of his bare chest.

A chest that will be very close to me on a regular basis if this conversation goes as planned.

Zeke stops a few feet away from me, head tilting as his blue-gray eyes move over my face. “Do you need something then?”

“Yes. I need something.” I’m parroting, and I need to snap out of whatever stupor I’m in. Oddly enough, it’s not panic shutting me down this time. It’s something else—that same foreign sensation swirling around my belly—but I can’t quite put my finger on identifying it.

Probably because my whole brain has shorted out.

“Okay.” Zeke’s deep voice is calm and patient. “What can I do for you?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Why is this so hard? I’ve been watching him—to a point some people might consider stalking—for the better part of six months. Ever since I decided to find a way to take back control of my life. His presence shouldn’t bother me like this.

Then again, while my focus has been on him, his has never been on me.

“Umm.” I clench my hands into fists, squeezing so tight my nails poke into my palms. The sting seems to rattle my brain enough to wonk some sense back into it. “Mona said you taught her how to protect herself.”

Zeke tucks his chin in a nod. “I did.”

My next breath is shaky. Quivering the way my insides are as I force out the question I came to ask. “Can you do that for me?”

Zeke studies me for a few long seconds. “You want to learn how to protect yourself?”

I nod, trying not to wilt under his scrutiny.

His thick brows pinch together slightly. “Why wouldn’t you ask Jamison or your sister to teach you?”

I swallow hard, ashamed over what I have to admit. I was expecting him to ask me this, but humiliation still heats my face when I say, “Because I don’t want them to know how scared I still am.”

I expect him to question me a little more. Maybe even tell me to ask them for help anyway. But Zeke just nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Is he agreeing? “You’ll help me?”

“I will.” He snags a towel from the stack beside the door, shaking it open before wiping it across his bare chest in a move that threatens to drag my gaze along the same path. “But won’t they be curious about what you’re doing?”

“No.” The question would make me laugh if the answer wasn’t so pitiful. I never leave the condo I bought in the complex Alaskan Security built for their employees and their families. Tonight is a rare exception for me. “Tonight is the first time I’ve been outside my townhome in weeks. I never really go anywhere, so it won’t even occur to them that I might not be inside.”

The explanation tumbles out. Once it’s free, I press a finger to my lips, hoping to stop the word vomit threatening to continue. Apparently my brain’s up and running again and fully intends to drop all my thoughts right on Zeke’s athletic shoes.

One of his brows angles. “And how do you plan on getting here? I know you don’t like driving.”

His observation skills surprise me again. It’s not a secret that I don’t like to drive. I can, I just don’t like to. Especially not in the winter when the roads are beyond questionable.

But I didn’t expect Zeke to know that.

“I hadn’t really thought that far.” My face burns with embarrassment at the oversight. I’ve been building this plan in my head for months and didn’t even consider how I’d get from point A to point B. I’m already failing at this and I haven’t even started.

Zeke slings his towel over one broad shoulder. “I’ll come pick you up.”

The hand still hovering at my mouth drops. “But they’ll see you pull up in front of my townhouse.”

“I’m not coming to your doorstep, Savannah.” His mouth quirks, eyes lighting up with amusement. “And if they see me, then I need to be fired.” He rakes one hand through the sweaty crop of dark blond hair sticking to his head. “I’ll call you at eight and tell you where to meet me.” He turns to walk toward the locker room, leaving me staring at his backside.

Which is why it takes more than a few heartbeats for me to blurt out, “But you don’t know my number.”

Zeke pauses, glancing at me over one shoulder, that same brow angled in an arrogant slash.

“Oh.” I should have realized he’d be able to get that information without issue. “Okay.”

“Eight o’clock, Savannah.” His eyes drag down my front, looking at more than my face for the first time. “And wear pants.”