At some point the walls would likely crumble and everything she’d been stuffing down would come spewing out like a geyser erupting, but until that day she just . . . ​coped. Just like Tori was coping—or not coping. It wasn’t her job—her responsibility—to heal Caleb’s sister. She wouldn’t even know how to begin even if she wanted such a task.

She cupped her hand over her forehead, eyes still closed, and she rubbed tiredly in an attempt to ease the awful tension and the painful ache in her temples. When would she stop running? Would she ever stop fleeing, and would she ever be able to lead a normal, boring life, something she craved with desperation?

If you think you’re safe—that you’ll ever be safe—from me, you’re a very stupid woman. There is nowhere, no place you can hide that I won’t find you. And when I do, you will suffer. You will beg me for death, and maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly.

Ramie bolted upright in bed, her scream shattering the silence that had blanketed the room. Her gaze bounced wildly around the darkened room, pupils quickly adapting as she blinked, expecting to see him standing by her bed. Within touching distance.

She should run, but she was paralyzed, unable to move—to breathe. Terror gripped her until she felt bruised, as if an actual hand had wrapped itself around her throat.

When the door burst in, she screamed again and scrambled wildly for the other side of the bed. She landed with a harsh thump, pain lancing through her head. She planted both palms on the floor, pushing herself upward, prepared to fight for her life.

She’d known she wasn’t safe here. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Like a wild animal she reared her head, nostrils flaring as she evaluated her escape options. He filled the doorway and then suddenly light flooded the room, momentarily blinding her.

From a distance she heard her name and she jerked her gaze around the vividly lit room, desperately seeking the source. Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, and she lashed out, self-preservation kicking in. She wasn’t ready to die.

“Caleb, what the hell is going on?”

Ramie stared at the open doorway to see Beau Devereaux standing there in a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else. He was quickly shoved aside when Quinn appeared looking worried and frazzled.

“Jesus, this is not going to help Tori,” Quinn bit out.

Ramie glanced upward, the haze of terror slowly releasing its grip on her. Caleb was on his knees just a foot from her, his hair mussed, his eyes bloodshot. Like Beau, he was wearing only boxers and it was equally evident that he’d been roused from sleep by her scream.

She closed her eyes, mortification taking over the fear.

“Go back to bed,” Caleb ordered his brothers. “I’ll handle this. Make sure Tori’s okay.”

Ramie held her breath as Caleb’s brothers slowly withdrew, identical frowns on their faces. There was no hiding the looks of annoyance and welcome was the furthest thing from their expressions. No matter what Beau had said earlier, he was obviously regretting his words now.

The door closed gently, Caleb’s brothers disappearing from sight. She became aware of her fingernails digging into her palms, marking her skin. She forced her hands to relax and closed her eyes, not wanting to look at Caleb and see the same thing she’d seen in Beau’s and Quinn’s faces.

“I’m not crazy,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

She wasn’t even cognizant of her fist pounding on the top of her thigh. Nor of the tears that streaked down her face in silence. A low sob finally welled out and it was a horrible sound, one she never wanted to repeat. Because it sounded too much like defeat. As though the ass**le had already won.

“I’m not crazy,” she said again, fiercely, daring Caleb to argue with her, to judge her.

Caleb rose quietly from his position on the floor. He reached down and simply plucked her up and carefully placed her back on the bed. Then he simply climbed in next to her and enfolded her in his arms.

She inhaled and his scent was imprinted on her. She breathed . . . ​him. It was as though one by one, pieces of a puzzle were slowly being put together. Sliding into position all around her.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Caleb murmured against her ear. “But I would like to know what happened. You don’t scare easily, Ramie. So for you to have screamed that loudly something had to have scared the ever-loving f**k out of you.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth drooped open as she stared at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

“I don’t scare easily? Is that something you made up on the fly to placate me, pat me on the head and tell me what a good girl I’ve been?”

“Uh . . . ​I’m not sure what the right answer to this kind of question is so I’m just going to express my earlier opinion that you don’t scare easily.”

Ramie snorted and then wiped her damp cheeks against the fluffy pillows that her head should still be resting on were it not for the psycho stalking and terrorizing her.

“I’m terrified,” Ramie said with no theatrics. She stated it as baldly as she would any other truth. Like the sky is blue except some days it’s gray and sometimes black and also puffy white.

His tone was exasperated even though he kept her anchored tightly to his body. She was tucked up against him, his body cupping hers entirely, giving her safe harbor. She recognized it for what it was. Sweet relief. Because for however long Caleb was holding her in just this way nothing or no one could hurt her.