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“Oh, I see, so that’s your excuse for you going out and banging the first guy you could get your hands on? You thought you’d show me?”

I suck in a breath, and the line falls silent. I seriously consider just hanging up on his stupid ass and writing this whole thing off but then I think about how it feels when I’m with him, and I can’t bring myself to pull the phone away from my ear.

“Why would you say that to me?” I ask, my voice a whisper, thick with hurt.

“Because of the guy I just saw strolling out of your fucking house like he just had the best night of his life.”

Everything moves in slow motion. I stare at Carly with wide eyes, and the only thing I can hear is my heartbeat, pounding relentlessly in my ears as what he says sinks in.

“Logan,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Call the police, please.”

He’s quiet for a moment before asking, “Why?”

I lock eyes with Carly, and I can only imagine what my face must look like right now. It feels like my whole world is falling down around me. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else so there shouldn’t be anyone in my house.”

My statement is met with silence for a moment before he mutters a curse. “Shit. Ali, I’m so sorry…”

“I’m hanging up now, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I don’t want to hear his apology right now. There is too much for my mind to process and what he said is on the very bottom of the list.

“Sure, Sweetheart. I’ll be here.”

I hang up the phone and drop my head to my desk, panic washing over me as I imagine someone in my home, my little oasis.

“Ali, what’s going on?” Carly asks, and I look up at her, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Logan saw someone leaving my house just now. They… they broke in.”

She gasps quietly and just watches me for a moment before nodding and walking around behind my desk. Grabbing my bag off the floor, she urges me to stand and starts leading me out of the office, where we run into Mercedes. I can hear Carly explaining the situation to her but it’s muffled, almost like I’m underwater, then we’re moving again.

I don’t really remember the walk to the parking garage or getting in Carly’s car but the next thing I know, we’re almost to my house, and my heart kicks in my chest. A slimy feeling washes over me as I think about someone going through all my things. Why would someone even break into my house? It’s not like I have anything super valuable. It just doesn’t make sense to me.

By the time we pull up in front of my house and see the line of bikes out front, my whole body is shaking and I’m on the verge of tears. My stomach rolls and my heart pounds as I walk up the front steps with Carly’s arm guiding me, a million different scenarios running through my mind about what’s waiting for me on the other side of the door.

“You think it’s got something to do with the pictures?” a gruff voice asks just as we step through the door, and everyone turns to look at us. My house is full of large men decked out in leather vests and tattoos. I freeze, eyeing each one of them up until Logan steps through the crowd. I let out a sigh of relief, and he marches over to me with determination on his face along with a few fresh bruises. Where the hell did those come from? He slides his hand into my hair and presses his forehead to mine as my eyes drift closed.

“You okay?” he asks, and I shake my head. My house looks exactly the way I left it this morning, except it’s tainted now. Almost like the man who broke in here is still lurking in the corner waiting to strike.

“I’m sorry for that call, Baby,” he whispers, so low only I can hear, and I shake my head again.

“Not now,” I whisper back. I’m not ready to talk about all that. I need to compartmentalize and deal with one thing at a time. First up is my house.

“I fucked up, okay? I didn’t mean what I said.”

Okay, apparently, we’re talking about this now. I peek out of the corner of my eye to see if they are all watching us but they’ve all backed away, giving us a little privacy, and Carly is nowhere in sight.

“Please say something,” he pleads, and I sigh, looking back into his gray eyes. I don’t want to tell him that there is a part of me that kind of liked his possessive side. At the very least, it lets me know that he’s feeling this, too.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

His grip in my hair tightens, and a feeling of calm washes over me. I like it when he holds onto me, like maybe he really doesn’t want to let me go. “I didn’t mean it, Ali. I fucking swear to you that I didn’t.”

“Maybe, but when you saw that man leaving my house, it was still your first reaction so a small part of you is still looking for an out. Either you want to be with me or you don’t. It’s pretty simple.”

“Excuse me, Miss James?” someone says, and Logan steps back, releasing me. “I’m Detective Rodriguez. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”