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“No,” he barks.

“Yes,” I fire back. He’s not making me leave my home.

“I swear to God, Woman. I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here if I have to,” he says, his eyes snapping open, and just from the determination in his gaze, I know he’s telling the truth.

Arching a brow, I meet his intense stare, not backing down. “And what? You’ll just kidnap me like he intends to?”

“That’s not fair,” he growls.

“I’m not letting him take my home from me, Logan. I won’t do it.”

Dropping his head, he closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. He tilts his head and opens one eye as he holds his hand out for me. I go to him without hesitation, and he wraps his arms around my waist. “I hate this.”

“I know,” I whisper, running my hand down his cheek, and he leans into me. “But I don’t want to go hide out at the clubhouse. This is my home, and he’s already taken so much from me.”

He leans down and claims my lips, pulling me into him tighter before pressing his forehead to mine and sighing. “I’m going to have a heart attack by the time I reach forty, and it’s going to be your fault.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” I assure him, my heart beating a little faster with the knowledge that he’s thinking long term. I’m ready to fight like hell for this, and I just hope that he is, too.

* * * *

I wave at Mercedes with my free hand as I pass her office, and she glances up from the papers in front of her, grinning as she waves back at me. Writers pop in and out of offices, the gentle buzz of conversation filling the conference area, and I let out a breath, relieved to be back here as I slip into my office. Setting my bag down on the couch next to one of today’s boxes of letters, I wonder why we don’t just use email as I slip behind my desk and sink into my chair. The coffee warms my throat as I take a sip and lean back in my chair, sighing again. Work and normalcy – it’s exactly what I need after this weekend.

Logan spent the rest of Friday night trying to convince me to go to the clubhouse with him, and when that didn’t work, he tried to use his mouth to persuade me. I’m holding firm though. I refuse to let Chris, whoever he is, push me out of my home and control my life. I don’t care how scared I am, that is not happening. By Saturday afternoon, Logan had given up on the clubhouse altogether but he refused to let me out of his sight for even a moment the rest of the weekend – even following me into the shower. He tried to play it off as sexy and fun, but I know better. This whole situation is really hard for him, and I need to try to be more understanding.

I can’t even imagine what he’s going through, and I wish he would open up more about his girlfriend. Maybe if I knew how she died, I would understand why he’s freaking out so badly right now. Then again, maybe it’s just the fact that he lost her that’s making him act like this now. Maybe even the possibility of something happening to me brings up everything he went through when she died. I wish he could just relax a little though.

We haven’t heard from Chris since the necklace showed up on Friday night, and there haven’t been any more presents left on the porch. I want to know what it means. Why would he steal the necklace only to leave it there for me to find? A part of me hopes that he’s just washing his hands of this and that he’ll leave me alone but all I have to do is think about the last letter he sent to know that isn’t true. It’s too hard to wrap my brain around though. The entire situation sounds like the plot of a movie, and it doesn’t feel real. The thing that scares me the most is that I don’t know what the best course of action is. If I knew the best way to go, the best way to handle this whole situation, we could make a plan, and it would put my mind at ease, but right now, we’re kind of stumbling along in the dark.

My phone rings on the desk, and I roll my eyes at Logan’s picture as I pick it up and answer it. “Yes, Logan. I made it safe, and I’m perfectly fine.”

He made me promise to call him the moment I walked in the door so he knew I was safe, and I feel a little bad that I forgot. Although, in my defense, he really does need to relax or that heart attack he joked about will be real.

“Come home,” he says, his voice cracking, and I shoot up in my chair, setting the coffee down on the table.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighs, and I hear something crash on the other end. My heart rate spikes, and I hold my breath as I wait for his reply. “I need you to come home. He fucking trashed my house.”

“Oh, Logan, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, dropping my head down into my hands. This is all my fault. If he weren’t with me, this never would have happened to him. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t give a shit about the house, Kitten. I care about you, so please come home.”

Sighing, I look up as Mercedes walks in and points to the chair across from me. I nod, and she sits down, pulling out her phone as she waits for me to finish the call. “Logan, I can’t just keep leaving my job because you’re freaking out about this.”

“What has to happen for you to understand how much danger you’re in?” he shouts through the phone, and I can imagine him running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“What’s going on?” Mercedes whispers, and I pull the phone away from my ear and quickly explain everything that I know. When I finish, her eyes are wide. She stares at me for a moment before looking back down at her phone as she starts typing away.

“Ali?” Logan barks into the phone, and I jump in my seat.

“What?”

“Come home.” It’s clear that he’s not asking me this time, and I sigh.

“Let me talk to Mercedes, and I’ll text you.”

He grumbles something on the other end of the line and sighs. “Fine. But if you haven’t texted me in five minutes, I’m coming to get you.”