Page 136 of Protecting Peyton

“Boyfriend Strangler,” I finished for him.

“And now that I’m joining forces with Hawk, as it were, it’s the least I can do.”

It wasn’t enough, but I moved to him quickly and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.” Then, I went to investigate the remainder of the penthouse.

The unit hada full kitchen in case the presidents or sheikhs or whoever didn’t want to eat downstairs at the restaurant with all the common folk. Why there were four bedrooms, I had no idea. They and their attached baths were of course massive and ornate.

Despite all the opulence, this was still a prison, meant as much to keep me in as to keep the monster out. I leaned against the window in the great room and touched my nose to the glass. “Where are you, you asshole? You’re going down. It’s time to end this.” I figured those were the kind of words Zane would use.

I pushed away from the glass when a familiar voice called, “Peyton?”

Rushing to the door, I found my boss, Grace Brennan, and Duke’s fiancée, Serena Benson, with grocery bags in hand.

“We heard what happened,” Grace said, wrapping me in a quick hug. “How are you holding up?”

Of course Duke and Terry had spilled the details to their women.

Grace certainly understood my stress after having been caught in a tug-of-war between two different organized crime families because of her stupid cousin.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“It’s got to be hard,” Serena said as she took her turn hugging me. “I know my ordeal was tough, but I didn’t have a serial killer after me.” She worked at the EPA, and both mobsters and sex traffickers had been after her during herordeal.

I nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve decided to stop running and face him—with Zane and the rest of Hawk behind me, of course.”

“They’re the best,” Serena said. “Trust them and do what they say. I learned to regret it when I didn’t.”

“I will,” I agreed.

Serena lifted her grocery bag. “We’re here to support you with some cooking therapy.”

“You guys didn’t have to.” For the first time since I left Boston, I had friends to support me who knew my situation, and it felt good.

“Nonsense, we want to,” Grace said. “There’s nothing like baking and cooking to take your mind off the bad things, my grams used to say.”

“Wow,” Serena exclaimed, walking to the window. “What a view!”

The wind had blown the smog out, and the city lay like a carpet in front of us, all the way to the blue of the ocean.

“Oh,” Grace scoffed. “You’re such a pretender. Your dad’s a billionaire. You must have been in places like this before. I’ve never been higher than the fourth floor.”

Serena turned. “Hey. I work for a living. Mom and Dad’s place has a few acres, but it’s only a two-story house. Bill and Lauren Covington? Now their penthouse is nice, but not as high up as this.”

“Where’s the kitchen?” Grace asked.

I led the way.

“Now,” Grace said, drawing out the word. “Tell us about Zane.”

Old me would have been coy about him, but with my new determination to face things head-on, I got straight to the truth. “I think I’m falling for him.”

“Think?” Serena prodded.

Multiple images of Zane from the last month scrolled through my head—pretending not to watch me from across the office, fighting for me—and every one of them made me smile. “Okay, already. I’ve fallen for him. He doesn’t like to show it, but he’s a really good guy.”

“Of course he’s a good guy,” Serena agreed. “He’s a SEAL, and they’re the best. Duke says he’d trust Zane with his life.”

“Hey now,” Grace complained. “Marine Scout Snipers are just as good.”