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He cursed.
She gripped her hands together. “I thought I was imagining it.”
“You didn’t imagine those notes.” His voice was gruff.
She bit her lip. “I hoped they were a prank or a bad joke.”
“Until someone busted your door down,” he growled.
Emotions swung around inside her and tears welled in her eyes.
“Don’t cry.”
She sniffed. “Ordering someone not to cry doesn’t work, Bram. Especially if they’re pregnant.”
“I…hate tears.”
“I can’t help it.”
Bram’s scowl deepened, then he yanked her to his chest.
She clung to him. “I didn’t know what to do. At the time, I was confused and worried, and I’d just found out I was pregnant.” She paused. “I couldn’t contact you, and then I needed to find a new job and apartment.”
He ran a hand down her spine. “It’s okay, Addie. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to find this piece of shit and keep you safe.”
She pulled in a shuddering breath.
“I’ll take the notes into the office,” Nick said. “I’ll let Hex take a look at them and check CCTV. It’s not safe for Addie to stay here.”
“I know.” Bram smoothed her hair back from her face. “Pack a bag, sunshine. You’re coming with me.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You’re moving in with me. My place at the Sentinel Security warehouse is secure.”
And Bram would be there.
He touched her stomach gently, a little less panic in his eyes this time. “And you have the baby to protect, too.”
She pressed a hand over his. The baby was the most important thing in her world.
“I can keep you both safe at Sentinel Security,” he said.
She nodded. “Let me change and pack some things.”
Relief crossed his rugged face before his features fell back into their normal, stoic look. “Good. Go on, I’ll finish talking with Nick.”
Addie hurried out, skirting her destroyed table. Her stomach clenched. The man had come here to hurt her.
What if Bram hadn’t been close?
What if Bram had been hurt in the fight?
She stroked her belly. “It’s okay, baby. Your daddy is going to keep us safe.”
Soon, Addie had changed into black leggings, ballet flats, and her favorite pink sweater. She packed a small suitcase. She spotted her well-worn pointe shoes resting on a shelf, and touched them. She wasn’t sure she’d ever dance again. She loved it, but she’d never adjusted to the grind of endless auditions and rejections. To never quite having enough money to cover the rent and bills.
The dream hadn’t been what she’d imagined.
