Suddenly, a spotlight shined down, and that’s when I saw the glint. An icy chill swept through my blood, because right then I knew for certain who it was.

In her hand, tangled between her fingers, was a red ribbon with a large silver rattle beside her. The object was Clementine’s Rosie.

And the dead woman was Lizzy O’Shea, Elle’s missing sister.

My stomach lurched. The only time I had seen that rattle before was in the hands of Michael O’Shea, back at the garage where Elle’s car had been towed.

The man who Elle was with last night. The very same man she was entangled with in a way that there was nothing I could do to untangle her.

What if all of this shit wasn’t just about Tommy?

Maybe there was a bigger picture.

That had to be it.

Like a lightning strike, I knew I had to be with her.

That being apart didn’t mean shit anymore.

There was so much more to all of this.

The stakes just got higher.

Tommy Flannigan was no longer the only man I had to protect Elle from.

My mind was reeling.

I had to come up with an even bigger and better plan.

I had to build my own army.

I had to be with her.

Fear took a backseat.

Strength puffed up my chest.

Determination racked my brain.

I knew what I had to do to keep her safe.

First, go and get her, begging on my knees if I had to, and then . . .

Crush Tommy and figure out what O’Shea was really up to.

No matter what.

ELLE

Nine very unsettling minutes with him and my world was more upside down than ever.

Would it ever be right again?

This morning I just didn’t think it would.

The spring drizzle trickled down the outside of my bedroom window and I found myself sitting in a chair and staring out at it. It was already dawn and I hadn’t slept much.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

How could I have been so cruel?

I hated what I’d said.

I’d made a huge mistake.

I should have put the same trust in him I wanted in return. I had been wrong in pushing him away—in thinking that my emotional health would be too uneven with us in a state of limbo, and that I wouldn’t be able to navigate my life reasonably. The truth was, without him I was in a state of complete instability anyway. I was uneven. I was unhappy. And I didn’t think it would ever go away.

Oh God. I needed to apologize. I wanted to talk to him so much I couldn’t stand it. But how could I fix anything between us now? I’d said the most horrible things to him last night.

Tears clouded my sight and I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes. When the sobbing subsided, I wrapped my arms around my body in a sad attempt to comfort myself.

Drop after drop I watched the water until I couldn’t anymore. Finally, I closed the blinds and then padded over to my bed and tried to make myself go back to sleep.

I was just tired.

So tired.

My phone was beside me and I thought about calling him. But would he answer? And if he didn’t, would I feel worse? If he did, would talking change anything? No. No it wouldn’t. How could it be that my life felt so empty without him in it? I tried reminding myself it was no fuller before I met Logan but that didn’t help. The difference was—there was a hole in my heart that wasn’t there before. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much.

Thank God for Clementine.

She was the only light in my life.

I needed sleep.

After that, I could determine better what I should do.

Perhaps my sadness was simply a function of lack of sleep.

Just as I started to drift off, my cell phone began to ring. I anxiously grabbed for it. Blocked caller flashed on my screen. I refused to answer it, but that didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster and faster.

It had to be the same person who had called me days ago.

Fear.

Fear like I’ve never known seized me.

For some unknown reason, this caller scared me more than anything.

A minute later a text message appeared. It read, You made the right choice. Keep on the correct path and little lives will remain safe.

My hand flew to my mouth.

Oh God.

He was threating Clementine!

What did he want?

Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.

My body began to shake.

Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.

I was so afraid.

Who was here?

Was it the caller?

Was it someone on Tommy’s behalf?

Was it the Irish Mob?

Knock, knock.

My pulse was racing.

Knock, knock.

Heart hammering against my ribs, I jumped out of bed—it felt like I was jumping out of my skin.

I didn’t know what to do.

Where was the security team Logan had arranged to watch my townhome?

An adrenaline rush kicked me into gear.

They had to be here.

Terrified, I grabbed my gun from the bedside table and hurried to the window to see if their car was still parked out front. My hand was trembling so much as I peeked out the closed blinds to the street below that I could barely pull them open.

The incessant ringing of my doorbell and the pounding on my front door wasn’t stopping.

Then, as I looked down, my terror ceased immediately.

Relief set in.

The Rover was parked right in front of my house, haphazardly squeezed in between two cars and partly up on the sidewalk.

It was Logan at my door.

I didn’t know what he was doing here but I didn’t care.

I needed him.

Right now, I didn’t care about anything other than him.

Him being here was all that mattered.

Needing to see him, feel him, hold him, I put my gun away and quickly grabbed a blanket off my bed. Wrapping it around me, I rushed for the door. “I’m coming!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. As I ran down the steps, the doorbell was still ringing and the pounding was still occurring. Faster and faster I went. I wanted to get to him just as much as he wanted to get to me.

In his arms, I knew I’d feel safe.

I reached the foyer quickly and without looking, I turned the alarm off and swung open the door. The streetlights were still on and shone behind him in a way that highlighted everything he was.

Strong.

Dauntless.

Confident.

Sexy.

My protector.

A feeling of intoxication overcame me as I drank him in. There he stood in his track pants, long-sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers, soaked to the bone. Noticing this, I was suddenly alarmed. “Logan, what’s the matter?” I asked.

“I need to talk to you.” He stepped in without being invited and I didn’t care.

Still shaking from the text, I had a hard time focusing.

He closed and locked the door, reengaged the security system, and then turned to me.

I watched as the water dripped off him in excess. As it puddled on the floor, as it flowed beneath my bare feet. With a tug of my arm he moved me away from the cold water.

I couldn’t help but stare at him. Had he known how much I needed him right now? Or did he need me? “What is it? What happened? You look shaken,” I asked all at once.

His eyes were so intense as they stared back at me. “Together, Elle, I pick together.”

That didn’t answer my question, but it told me what he was doing here.

My emotions wouldn’t register. They were all over the place. I’d asked him to pick, and when he didn’t pick me, it left me more than a little shattered.

But now, now he was picking me.

He’d picked me.

That’s why he was here.

In my time of need.

My emotions were a conflicting mess.

Shock.

Elation.

Love.

Confusion.

My heart forgot to beat. My lungs forgot to breathe. My eyes forgot to blink. So many feelings were flowing through my veins that I wasn’t certain which one I should be feeling right now, or if any of this was even real.