Page 19

I move to the weapons cabinet built into the wall of the panic room. Finn showed me the contents when he first brought me here, explaining each item with the patient thoroughness of a man who leaves nothing to chance.

I select a handgun, the one he said would be easiest for someone with minimal training to handle. Check the safety. Verify it's loaded. All according to his instructions, delivered in that calm, confident voice I've come to rely on.

Finn, who taught me how to protect myself because he understands that true security comes from within, not just from walls and locks and men with guns.

Finn, who might be hurt or worse because he went after my stalker alone.

Finn, who I love too much to hide while he's in danger.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Then I move to the panic room door, entering the release code on the keypad. The locks disengage with a soft click that sounds impossibly loud in the silence.

This is madness. This is courage. This is love.

I push open the door and step into the master bedroom, gun held in the ready position Finn taught me. The house is silent around me, no indication of the intruder I saw on the cameras.

But he's here. Somewhere. Looking for me.

Instead, he's going to find a very different Nova Wilde than the terrified woman who fled Los Angeles less than a week ago.

He's going to find a woman who has learned what it means to fight for someone you love.

I move through the house silently, clearing rooms the way Finn showed me. Checking corners, staying low, using furniture for cover. My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain Vance must hear it, wherever he's hiding.

But the cabin remains silent. Empty. No sign of the intruder I saw on the cameras.

I begin to doubt myself. Maybe it was one of the brothers, returning briefly to check the house. Maybe it was a shadow, a trick of light on the monitor. Maybe my fear is making me see threats where none exist.

Then I hear it. A soft creak from the front porch. The careful pressure of weight on old boards.

He's outside. Still looking for a way in.

I position myself in the living room, concealed behind the large leather chair that gives me a clear view of the front door and windows without exposing me to sight from outside.

And I wait. Breathing controlled. Hands steady around the gun. Mind focused with a clarity I've never experienced before.

Is this how Finn feels in moments of danger? This strange, detached calm where fear exists but doesn't control?

The front door handle turns slowly. Testing. Finding it locked.

A shadow passes across the window, then another. Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Time loses meaning in the heightened state of waiting, of knowing that eventually he will find a way in, or I will find a way to alert the brothers without endangering Finn.

The radio in my pocket crackles suddenly, shattering the silence.

"Nova." Finn's voice, strained but alive. "Nova, are you there? Answer me."

Relief floods through me so intensely it nearly breaks my concentration. Finn is alive. Hurt maybe, from the sound of his voice, but alive.

I want to respond, to tell him I'm okay, to warn him about Vance. But if I speak, it may give away my position.

The decision is made for me when the window behind me shatters, glass exploding inward as a figure forces entry into the cabin.

I spin, raising the gun, but I'm too slow. A hand knocks my arm aside, sending the weapon skittering across the floor. Another hand grabs my throat, shoving me back against the wall with crushing force.

And I find myself face to face with Robert Vance.

He's nothing like I expected. Not a monster, not visibly deranged. Just an ordinary looking man with eyes that contain nothing human as they stare into mine.

"Finally," he says, his voice surprisingly soft. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this moment? How long I've been watching you? Planning for us?"

"There is no us," I choke out, his hand still tight around my throat. "There never was."

"You don't understand yet." His grip loosens slightly, allowing me to breathe. "But you will. Once I've shown you how perfect we are together. How I'm the only one who truly sees you."

"The only thing I see is a man who's about to die." I put every ounce of conviction I can muster into the words. "The McKennas are coming. They know you're here."

"The McKennas are scattered through the forest, chasing ghosts." He smiles, and it's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. "That's the problem with protectors. They're so easy to manipulate once you understand what they value."

Understanding dawns with sickening clarity. "You let Finn see you. You wanted him to pursue you."

"Of course. The noble protector, rushing off alone to confront the threat." His free hand traces my cheek in a grotesque parody of affection. "So predictable. So useful."

"If you've hurt him."

"You'll what?" He laughs, soft and intimate, as if we're sharing a joke. "You'll kill me? You'll make me pay? Such fierce words from a woman who's been running scared for months."

He's right. I have been running. Hiding. Letting others fight my battles.

But not anymore.

"I'm not running now," I say, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm right here."

Something in my tone gives him pause.

"Yes, you are. Finally where you belong. With me."

"I belong with Finn McKenna," I say, the truth of it filling me with strength I didn't know I possessed. "I love him. And there is nothing you can do to change that."

Rage transforms his face, twisting those ordinary features into something monstrous. "You don't know what love is. None of you do. You think it's about pleasure, about what feels good. Real love is about pain. About sacrifice. About proving what you're willing to endure."

His hand tightens around my throat again, cutting off my air. Spots dance at the edges of my vision as I claw at his arm, fighting for breath.

"I'm going to show you real love," he whispers, his face inches from mine. "And when I'm done, you'll understand. You'll be grateful. You'll..."

The rest of his sentence is lost in the deafening roar of a gunshot.

Vance jerks, his grip on my throat loosening as blood blooms across his shoulder. He spins, reaching for a weapon at his belt, but he's too slow.

Finn stands in the doorway, blood streaking one side of his face, gun aimed with unwavering precision at Vance's head.

"Get away from her," he says, his voice deadly calm. "Now."

Vance doesn't comply. Instead, he pulls me against him, using my body as a shield, the cold press of a gun barrel against my temple.

"Drop the weapon, McKenna," he says. "Or I paint the wall with her brains."

Time seems to slow. I meet Finn's eyes across the room, seeing the rage there, the fear, but also something else. A question. Trust.

He's asking if I trust him. If I'm willing to risk everything on his ability to save me.

I don't hesitate. I nod once, a tiny movement Vance can't see but Finn doesn't miss.

"Last chance," Vance says, pressing the gun harder against my head. "Drop it."

"You know I can't do that," Finn replies, his aim never wavering. "But I can offer you a deal. Let her go, and you walk out of here. I give you a head start. That's the best offer you're going to get."

Vance laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest against my back. "You think I'm stupid? The moment I let her go, you'll put a bullet between my eyes."

"Maybe," Finn concedes. "But your options are limited. My brothers are on their way back. In about two minutes, this cabin will be surrounded by very angry McKennas. Your only chance of walking away from this is to take my deal."

I feel Vance hesitate, calculating odds, possibilities, escape routes. His grip on me loosens fractionally as his attention splits between Finn and his own survival.

It's the only opening I'll get.

I drive my elbow back with all my strength, catching him in the solar plexus exactly as Finn taught me. As he gasps, doubling over, I twist away, throwing myself to the floor.

Finn fires the instant I'm clear. Once. Twice. Three times.

Vance crumples, his unfired gun clattering to the floor beside him. His eyes meet mine one last time, confusion replacing the emptiness, as if he can't understand how his perfect plan has gone so wrong.

Then the light goes out of them, and he's just a body on the floor of Finn's cabin. Just a man who thought obsession was the same as love.

Finn is beside me instantly, pulling me into his arms with a desperation that matches my own. His hands move over me, checking for injuries, reassuring himself that I'm whole, that I'm safe, that I'm still his to protect.

"You're hurt," I say, touching the blood on his face. "What happened? How did you know to come back?"

"Vance set a trap. Tripwire with a flash bang. I got separated from the others, disoriented for a while." His hands cup my face, eyes searching mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "When I came to, I knew something was wrong. Knew he'd doubled back to the cabin. To you."

"I left the panic room," I confess, needing him to understand why I broke the one promise he asked of me. "I saw him on the monitors. I thought. I was afraid you were hurt or worse, and I couldn't just hide while you were in danger."

I expect anger. Disappointment. A lecture on following security protocols and not taking unnecessary risks.

Instead, he kisses me. Hard and desperate and full of everything we've been too afraid to say directly. His hands tangle in my hair, holding me to him as if he's afraid I might disappear if he loosens his grip.

When we break apart, both breathless, he rests his forehead against mine. "Don't ever do that again. I can't lose you, Nova. I can't."

"You didn't lose me. You saved me. Again."

"We saved each other." He pulls back enough to meet my eyes, his own filled with an emotion I've been waiting to see without reservation or qualification. "I love you, Nova. God help me, but I do."

The words I've been waiting for. The truth we've both been circling since that first kiss by the fireplace. Since the night we spent in each other's arms. Since every moment since when we pretended what we feel is temporary or circumstantial or anything other than what it is.

Love. Simple and complicated and terrifying and wonderful.

"I love you too," I say, the words coming easily now that he's broken the barrier between us. "I think I have since the moment you walked into my house in Los Angeles and promised to keep me safe."

He smiles, a rare full smile that transforms his face, makes him look younger, unburdened by the weight of protection and responsibility he carries so naturally.

"Even though I'm a grumpy mountain man who lives too far from civilization and has too many security protocols?"

"Because of those things. Because you're exactly who I need. Who I want."

He kisses me again, gentler this time but no less filled with promise. With future. With the certainty that whatever comes next, we face it together.

The sound of running footsteps and shouted questions announces the arrival of his brothers, drawn back by the gunshots. But Finn doesn't release me, doesn't step away, doesn't pretend this is anything other than what it is.

A man holding the woman he loves. A woman who has finally found where she belongs.

In his arms. On his mountain. Home.