Page 18 of Guarded Knight

“We’re not discussing this where anyone can hear.”

He walks away. Not fast. But I still have to jog a little to catch up.

I expect him to head toward the apartment, but he turns right and up Grenvista Trail, where the dead end gives way to a narrow dirt path winding into trees and the entrance to woods.

“Where are we going?”

He doesn’t answer. I follow his broad back, my tiny footsteps hardly keeping up with his war strides.

The wind kicks up around us, rustling the dry leaves along the path. My sneakers crunch on the dirt as we walk, side by side, not touching. Not speaking. The silence stretches until I can’t take it anymore.

“You’re angry?” I ask.

Suddenly, he turns to face me and his features contain thunder. “I’m focused.”

“That’s your focused face?” I keep my voice light because I’ve seen him this close to detonation before. “Because it looks a lot like the one you made when you broke Kyle Bergman’s nose in tenth grade.”

He doesn’t smile. Just steps closer. “Don’t joke about this.”

“I’m not.” My voice softens. “But…”

Emotion hits me harder than I thought it would. I need to armor up with something. Humor. Anger. I’d rather feel anything than fear and fall apart over this. “I’m just trying to keep it in perspective. This isn’t World War Three we’re dealing with. It’s a…”

“Stalker.” Vigilance simmers in his gaze. “You have a stalker. And a dangerous one at that. Call it for what it is, and we can get somewhere, Lara. I need you to stop making light of this.”

He’s right. I can’t admit it out loud, but he softens for me. He knows vulnerability isn’t my thing.

He gestures toward a bench a few yards ahead. “Come on. Sit. Talk to me.”

We sit. A patch of shade stretches over us from the low-hanging branches above. There’s dust on the tips of Gabriel’s boots. He hasn’t shaved today. His jaw’s rough, shadowed, and too damn attractive and kissable for my current level of emotional fortitude.

“This isn’t what I expected,” I murmur.

“What isn’t?”

“You. Being here. Seeing that text. And being composed. You used to go in all guns blazing.”

“I’m blazing,” he says. “Just quietly. On the inside. Where it counts.”

A dry laugh escapes me. “I can’t believe I got myself into this mess.”

“You didn’t. Cameron is the only asshole responsible for this.”

“I meant having to deal with you again,” I quip.

It’s a joke. Probably ill-placed, but I can’t help it. I’m the type who laughs nervously when things are bad.

He puts his elbows on his knees, hunches over, and stares at the ground. “Do you understand how big this problem is?”

I scoff.

He turns to me, eyes on fire—and in them, I see our past. The days when he let me know how much I mattered.

“Seriously, Lara, do you? Do you understand how hard it is to deal with a stalker who’s willing to do shit like this?”

“I told you I’ve been on Reddit.” This time I mean it seriously because there’s some solid info there.

He laughs, and though he’s exasperated, I genuinely humored him. Hearing him laugh, seeing his guard down for a split second, feels better than I want it to.