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I raised a hand, citing his actions as if I’d been keeping score. “Hiring someone to follow me. Sending a hot guy in with fifty grand to see if I was a prostitute. Finding out my phone number without me giving it to you. Turning my phone off without asking me first. Shoving a suite down my throat that I didn’t want.”

His mouth twitched. “But you’re so good at taking things down that throat.”

I glared at him, and he sobered.

“Okay, yes. I don’t trust people, and I don’t believe in wasting time. I met you and I couldn’t…” He blew out a breath.

“Just stop for a minute.” I held up my hand, thinking. I didn’t need him to rehash and explain every action. Some of them, when examined under a magnifying glass, made sense. Others didn’t. I knew he was different than most men. I understood that a relationship with him wouldn’t be easy, and that he was an alpha male in every good—and bad—sense of the word. I was okay with that, but I needed to know that he respected my decisions and opinions. I needed to know that I was in control of my life, and that felt like a very questionable concept after I’d let him and Laurent control my every action after Gwen’s death.

I looked up to find him waiting, one hand on the steering wheel, a blur of cars in the background, the Vegas skyline barely visible in the dust. “I’ll take security. But I can’t feel like they are spying on me. I need to have some layer of freedom and privacy.”

He looked away from me, studying the road, the cars whizzing past, a lost Styrofoam cup tumbling across the shoulder. I watched his fingers drum on the steering wheel, then he tightened his grip on the wheel, the cords in his forearm bulging.

“Your safety isn’t something that I want to compromise on. My team can make sure—”

“Okay.” I interrupted him, reaching out and tugging on his shirt, bringing his attention back to me. “But don’t go crazy on covering me. Like this moment, right now. You’re the only one protecting me. And I’m safe. I don’t need a huge protection detail.”

His jaw tightened, and I saw frustration weigh down his features. “Fine. But the minute I feel you’re unprotected, I’m bringing in more. You have to understand; I just lost Gwen. I just failed her. I can’t lose you. Not to some loose end of Hawk’s, not to a random stranger on the street, not to a drunk driver on The Strip. And that brings up a second issue.”

Great. I fought the urge to sigh. “What’s the second issue?”

“Your job. When are you planning on returning to work?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Rick or Lance about it. I’m assuming they need me back soon. This weekend or next week.”

He shook his head. “I can’t control the environment there. The entry security protocol is lax. It’d be too easy for someone with talent to get in, get close to you, and hurt you.”

My throat closed. “I can’t quit my job, Dario.”

Out of everything that had happened, this suddenly seemed like the obstacle we couldn’t overcome. Quit The House? Leave Rick and Lance? Give up that income? What would be next? College? If he “couldn’t control” my job, how would he be able to control UNLV? I felt the swell of hysteria build and looked away, blinking rapidly, trying to control the tears that welled, the lump in my throat growing bigger. I inhaled sharply, a shuddering gasp that didn’t give me near enough oxygen.

“Hey.” He reached out, and I turned further away, concentrating on the peak of a faraway mountain, trying to collect my thoughts. How had I not seen this coming? How, in all of those empty hours in Louisiana, had I not understood the aftermath of Gwen’s death? Everything has changed now. He’d said that, and I’d nodded—thinking of the weights that had lifted off of our relationship, not thinking of the chains it had added.

“Bell.” His hand wrapped around my forearm, and he tugged, his voice soft and concerned, its gentleness making everything worse.

“Everything’s changed.” I spoke so softly that I wondered if he heard me. Swallowing hard, I repeated the words, then turned to glare at him. “I’m not giving everything up. Do you understand that? You—”

You aren’t worth that. I almost said it but realized the falsity before it materialized. He was worth it.

Could I take a hiatus from work? Yes.

Could I take classes online? Probably.

Could I pause school for a semester considering I wasn’t even sure what major I wanted? Yeah.

“This is temporary. It won’t be like this forever. We’ll find systems that work for you. I promise.”

I nodded, unwilling to discuss it right now. There was too much to fight about. Security. Work. He hadn’t even brought up school, but it was only a matter of time before he did. We were on the way to my parents’ house. I couldn’t climb up this mountain now.

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