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I throw the kickstand of the bike down, ripping the key out of the ignition.

I don’t even let her move; I simply pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.

Is it caveman of me? Yeah. Do I care right now?

Absolutely not. “Tatum! What is wrong with you?” she yelps as I step into the elevator.

My jaw is clenched so tight I don’t know if I can open it.

It may be stuck. “Tate,” she says again, softer this time.

Her hands are pressed into my lower back so she can push herself up enough to look at me over my shoulder.

The second our eyes meet, I know for a fact that if anything ever happens to this woman, I won’t recover. I slide her down the front of my body, placing her feet gently on the ground. “I don’t like this.” It comes out so tortured that I don’t even recognize it as my own voice.

Her hands slide up my chest, coming to rest on the sides of my neck.

My eyes close as I breathe deeply. I love that she knows exactly how to calm me down.

The way her hands squeeze my shoulders, then travel up the back of my neck, as she drags her fingernails through my hair, then back down and repeat.

The elevator door opens, and out of instinct, I step in front of her, shielding her from whatever danger my brain thinks is on the other side.

After looking both ways down the hallway, I lace our fingers together and pull her into my apartment.

Zeke is sitting on the couch with a spoon loaded with cereal halfway to his mouth.

“Oh, hey guys,” he chuckles. “Wasn’t expecting you home so soon. ”

Abby smiles. “You know this one, can’t keep his hands to himself.

” She snickers as she looks over at me and pulls me toward my room.

Zeke’s loud laugh follows us down the hallway, and even though tonight didn’t go as planned, the fact that she’s claiming me in front of my best friend has me feeling like a prissy freaking princess on the inside.

Once we’re in my room, she sits herself on my bed.

It’s only then that I notice the rosy color of her cheeks and the way she has her bottom lip between her teeth.

Chewing in a way that has her mouth slightly pulled to the side.

I realize now that all the reasons I thought she was a stuck up brat are really a method of self preservation.

And right now, I can almost see the panic swirling in her.

I can’t handle the distance a second longer.

I close the gap, dropping to my knees in front of her, and placing my hands on the outside of her thighs.

Her hand immediately finds its favorite spot in my hair, right on the line where it’s short on one side, longer on the other.

I drop my head to her lap as she continues to run her fingers along my scalp.

Neither of us says a word, there’s nothing more to be said right now.

The only thing I can think about is how badly I want to catch that slimy son of a gun before he can do something that really hurts her, or he outs us to Hannah before we can.

I need proof it’s actually him, though. I may be impulsive with a lot of things, acting before I have all the info, but where her safety is concerned. .. I’m not willing to take that risk.

Tomorrow, when she goes into the office, I’ll start to dig. Maybe I can get Elliot to meet me somewhere, I’d have to steal his number from her phone, though. And that’s an invasion of privacy that would shatter the fragile trust we’ve built.

We walk a fine line, it’s like we’re one gust of wind away from falling apart.

One step out of line on my end and she’d take off faster than a car on the starting line of a Formula One race.

One move I could interpret as shady from her, and I’d lock up tighter than the Vatican Archives.

A constant push and pull, how far can I push before her need for control takes back over?

How hard can she pull before I start to put my walls back up?

I told her I loved her, and I do. Wholeheartedly.

There’s no doubt in my mind she’s it for me, but am I it for her?

Can I be the guy she counts on when things get tough?

Will she see me for me, or as a way to further her career down the line?

Will she ever be capable of loving me, or will her need to call all the shots keep her at a distance she deems safe?

Am I setting myself up for failure? Am I putting her in danger?

I don’t even know what the danger is, but it can’t be a coincidence that I see River earlier in the day, and then that text gets sent.

She pulls me from my spiral, literally, as she grabs my face and turns it toward her. “It’s okay, we’re okay,” she whispers against my lips before they press fully into mine. I stand, breaking our kiss as I kick off my shoes.

Climbing into bed, I grab her hand and pull her with me.

I just need to feel her, to know she’s safe.

Her hand finds my chest, her head resting on her favorite spot on my arm.

“Sunshine?” she says as she traces over my heart.

I close my hand around hers and press it flat against my chest, letting us both feel the beat of my heart.

My head falls to the side, my eyes close under the weight of everything.

I suck in a deep, lung full of air as she slides up my body and leans her forehead against mine.

Clearing my throat, I ask the one question I don’t want the answer to, “What if we took some time apart? ”

I feel her tense in my grip. Her deep inhale acts like a stake to the heart. “Are you...” She trails off like she’s afraid of my answer at the end of her question. “Are you ending things?”

I quickly add, “No, just until we can figure this out. I–”

She jolts up, looking down at me like a freaking angel, her head shakes softly, as she frantically whispers, “No. No, Tate. I don’t want that. Then they win. Are we not worth the risk?”

My hand runs over my face. Of course she is. We are. But is it worth her life? No. “Abby,” her head rears back at the name as tears spring to her eyes.

“Tate, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. We can go see my brothers tomorrow if you think you can handle the firing squad.” I can handle anything but losing her, hasn’t she realized that yet?

I pull her back down to me, releasing a shaky breath, as I tell her what’s on my heart.

“As much as I used to hate you, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.

” My eyes blink open to meet hers. “I don’t know how you did it, Abby.

But you obliterated every argument I had about dating again.

Everything has been so simple with you, it’s almost too easy. ”

Her breath hitches, she holds it for a second before letting out a shaky exhale.

“When you kissed me at the gas station...” Her eyes drop to where our hands are melded together before she takes another breath and continues.

“That was the first time anyone has kissed me since that night.” My jaw drops open on its own accord, knocking against the top of her head.

Her little chuff lets me know she felt it.

“When they assaulted me, it wasn’t full blown sex.

” She clears her throat. “I had been dating one of them, secretly.” She pauses, staring blankly at the wall for a few seconds.

“Hannah hated the guy and for good reason. He groomed me for their master plan, so to speak.” She starts to shake, so I pull the blanket around us and rub small circles over her shoulder.

“I trusted him. I liked him. So I thought nothing of it when he showed up with the other two. They took turns holding me down. I was mad, I felt so betrayed. I was terrified I wasn’t going to make it out of there. ”

My blood feels like it’s been replaced with ice, the deadly kind.

If I ever see those guys again, I’ll– “I had bruises on my neck the next day from where they squeezed so hard. I fought, kicked, and screamed. I had cuts everywhere. I sat in that closet for three hours after they left, trying to figure out what I had done wrong to end up in that situation. What signs did I miss or willingly ignore out of my desire to be loved by someone?”

“Abby, that wasn’t your fault. None of it was.” I want to say more, but she keeps going.

“I know that now. But I didn’t then. That's where the control started. If I could control the things and people around me, I wouldn’t end up in that position again. At least that’s what I told myself.”

Her sad chuckle pulls at my heart. I squeeze her a little tighter, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it’d put a tiny piece of her back together.

“I started boxing, started lifting. All the processes I have now were built in the years I spent trying to self-preserve. I never looked at anyone else because anytime a man so much as hugged me, I’d have the urge to flee.

” She looks up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“But not once have I felt that urge with you. Not once have you made me feel unsafe. Not once have you pushed me past my level of comfort. You challenge me, sure, but the second you pick up on my impending downhill spiral, you pull me out of it in a way only you can.” She takes a big breath, rolling over to her stomach to look at me fully.

“What I’m saying is, I appreciate the heck out of you, Sunshine. I don’t know who this person is or what they want, but in the same way you want to protect me, I want to protect you, too. And I will, because you’re my person.”

You’re my person. In Abby language I just hit the gold freaking buzzer. I put my arms under hers and pull her on top of me, her head rests on my chest as my arms wrap around her waist. She shared the full story, she brought the rest of her walls down for me. I should do the same.

But I don’t, something deep and ugly inside me tells me to hold my cards close.

Not just from her, but from everyone until we get this figured out.

“Let’s go to sleep. We’ll figure this out tomorrow, okay?

” I say softly as I thread my fingers into her hair, softly running them from her scalp down through the tips and back again.

Her soft hum and her death grip on my shirt are the only acknowledgement I get before her body slowly becomes deadweight on top of me.

She’s like a weighted blanket for the anxiety coursing through my veins at the moment.

She’s here, she’s okay, and she’s choosing to be with me.

She wants to fight for me, for us. This isn’t some long, drawn out fever dream.

We’ll figure out where to go from here tomorrow.