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Chelsea

Run!

Everything in my body is screaming at me to run, but I can’t. My feet are glued to the floor, my eyes locked on the terrifying sight in front of me.

A mountain of a man is prowling our small living room like a caged animal. He is massive, the biggest man I’ve ever seen, his broad shoulders and muscled arms straining the worn leather of his jacket.

My heart is pounding hard against my ribcage as I force my gaze to his chiseled face—strong jawline, firm mouth, and a buzzcut that accentuates his thick brows.

Run!

Coming home from work to find the front door kicked in and an armed stranger in my living room is the stuff of nightmares. And yet, I find myself frozen to the floor, staring at the man who has yet to notice me, taking in every inch of his dangerous, imposing form.

Run, Chelsea!

But the truth is, I can’t move. When I arrived and saw the wreckage of my front door, my first instinct was to slowly back away then call for help. But when I caught a glimpse of the man kneeling on the floor in front of the intruder, face white with fear, I couldn’t leave.

My brother’s face has a look of visceral fear on it. The sight of Ransom’s bleeding lip and terrified expression were enough to scare the hell out of me. But I can’t leave my brother like this.

Think, Chelsea.

A series of ideas run through my mind, ranging from running at the intruder, hoping to catch him by surprise and grab the gun from him, to simply tiptoeing away and calling the cops.

Something tells me that even with my brother’s help, we wouldn’t be able to best this man, so I figure the second option is really the only one.

I need to get out of here and call the police.

I’ve already been standing here too long.

With that in mind, I lift my foot to take a step back when a deep and dangerously calm voice stops me in my tracks.

“Don’t even think about it.”

I freeze, my eyes widening in alarm when the giant stops and turns to look at me. Something in those alarming gray eyes tells me that he knew I was there the entire time. He doesn’t even have to raise his gun to send chills rushing down my spine. No, those dark eyes are enough.

“CJ,” Ransom cries out when he notices me, but before he can get up, the man points the gun in his direction without once taking his eyes off me. “Please, that’s my sister. Please !”

“All the more reason for her to join us.”

“No!” There are tears in my brother’s eyes.

Tears I haven’t seen since I was fourteen and he was twenty-three, his arm over my shoulders as the doctor delivered the news of our parents’ deaths in a car accident.

He’d tried to be strong back then, but I’d seen the tears, had watched them spill out despite his best efforts to keep them in.

His eyes are shining with unshed tears now as he pleads with this stranger to not involve me in whatever the hell is happening here.

“Please…my sister has nothing to do with this. I’ll tell you everything, just let her go. ”

Ransom’s words don’t seem to move the giant one bit as his steely eyes stay on mine, and everything in that dangerous gaze tells me that leaving is not an option.

With a shaky breath, I finally step fully into the apartment.

a move that pulls a protest from Ransom, but I don’t take my eyes off the stranger long enough to glance at my brother.

I slowly amble toward them, stopping in front of the stranger before finally addressing my brother. “Are you okay, Ransom?”

“He’s fine,” the beast of a man says calmly, almost dismissively. “For now. It’s up to him if he stays that way.”

“He’s bleeding,” I say quietly, gesturing to my brother’s lip. “You’ve already hurt him.”

“That little scratch? That’s nothing, a warning tap.”

I swallow deeply at the threat, fighting to steady my weak knees as those dark eyes bore into me.

I fight the urge to look away, gathering the little bravado I reserve for when I have to deal with difficult customers I encounter at the store where I work.

Granted, most of those customers are mean old ladies with more bark than bite.

He’s only a man, Chelsea . A man built like a tank, but a man, nonetheless.

“I-I don’t know what this is about, but I…I’m not going to stand here and let you hurt my brother,” I say, wincing internally at the shakiness in my voice.

Something like respect filters into those dark eyes. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“I…I’ll call the cops. I mean, I’ve already called the cops, and they should be here—”

His laugh catches me off guard. It’s a loud booming sound that sends my heart racing with both fear and excitement. “Retract your claws, kitten,” he says with a smirk. “But sure, go ahead and call the cops. They can arrest your thieving brother right along with me!”

“My brother is not a thief!” I hiss, knowing it’s a lie even as words leave my lips.

He truth is, I know too much about my brother’s activities.

Ransom is a tech wiz, always on computers, never clear about what he is doing.

It was not until after our parents passed and I came to live with him that I found out he was hacking and stealing money from people.

I was horrified, and we exchanged some harsh words until he promised to stop.

He assured me that he’d only stolen from criminals and had convinced me that he’d covered his tracks well enough that no one could trace it back to him, and yet, here we are.

In our living room with a stranger who looks ready to kill.

A man who has no doubt taken a life before and won’t hesitate to take another.

It’s all in the eyes—the danger—clear, harsh, and easy to read.

“So here’s how this is going to play out,” the stranger says, his eyes cold and hard again. “Your brother has two options. Return all the money he stole from us or take a bullet to his brain.”

“All of it?” Ransom pales further, his face turning chalk white. “How the fuck do you expect me to return that much money? I don’t have it anymore, and—”

“Then we are done here,” the man says with horrifying nonchalance.

I watch with terror as he raises his gun, and I see it in those steel eyes sharp as a wolf’s, he is going to kill my brother.

Ransom took me in when our parents died.

He has sacrificed so much to take care of me and our grandmother, paying for the apartment we now share and all the bills from the nursing home.

He taught me how to throw a punch, took me to buy my high school prom dress, and threatened all the guys in the neighborhood to steer clear of his sister if they didn’t want to deal with him.

And now, he’s going to die in front of me.

My legs are moving before my brain can catch up.

One second, I’m frozen, my entire being paralyzed with fear, and the next a primal instinct pushed by desperation takes over.

I launch myself forward, a blur of motion as I move to shield my brother from the gun.

I feel the impact of my body against Ransom’s and the weight of his arm locking around me as I throw myself in front of him.

“No!” My breath catches in my throat, a choked sob escaping my lips. I bite hard on my trembling lip as I turn to the stranger. “You can’t kill him. I won’t let you!”

I catch a flicker of surprise in his eyes as he drops the gun but doesn’t say a word. Ransom tries his best to push me out of the way and protect me as he always has, but I hold on tight to his shoulders, unwilling to lose yet another loved one. “Chelsea June!” he shouts.

“No, I won’t let him kill you.” I sniff, my heart wrenching painfully in my chest. The memory of losing our parents rushes in.

The panicked drive to the hospital, the fear, the hope, and then…

the pain. I turn my wet, pleading eyes to the giant standing over us.

“Isn’t there a third option? Please?” I plead, blinking tearfully at the stranger. “ Please. ”

“Your brother has to pay back the money he stole. With interest. There is no other option.”

“He won’t be able to give you anything if he’s dead,” I tell him.

Ransom pushes me off, managing to move me to the side, but not without a struggle.

“I’ll pay,” he says finally. “I can’t pay it all at once.

I used some of the money to cover my grandmother’s nursing home expenses for the next year.

There isn’t much left, but I’ll figure out a way to pay it back. I just need some time.”

“How long?”

“Two months,” Ransom says, before quickly correcting himself when the stranger raises a single thick brow. “Fine, six weeks.” The stranger just continues to stare at him, so he says, “Seriously? Okay, fine. One month. I can’t get it sooner than that.”

The man walks to the couch and lowers himself onto it, placing the gun on the cushion next to him before turning to us.

“Tell me, why should I trust a thief?” he asks, smirking when my eyes flare at his words, the urge to defend my brother strong, but I decide to keep my mouth shut for the moment.

“Do you really expect me to take your word for it? I mean, what’s stopping you from taking the rest of the money and disappearing? ”

“Then what do you want? My ID? Passport?”

“Those could be forged. With your computer skills, I imagine it’s child’s play to get fake identities.”

Ransom makes an exasperated sound as he sits up.

“Then what do you want?” he demands, missing the way the giant’s eyes move from him to me and stay there.

My lips part in a gasp at what he’s implying, but it takes my brother a minute of silence for his brain to catch up.

He shoots up to his feet, eyes blazing with fury.

“Absolutely not. My sister has nothing to do with this. You’re not taking her! ”

“I don’t believe you’re in a position to negotiate with me.”