Papers, books, and miscellaneous junk were scattered around, yet with luck, the small gold key fell out on top.

His pounding on my bedroom door had me focused on the safe, bent over, on my knees. The key unlocked it with ease. There, exactly where my grandfather had left it, was the gun I’d only used during target practice years earlier.

With the gun in hand, I opened the accompanying box of bullets and spilled them onto the floor in front of me.

Another pound at my door followed by his gut-wrenching snicker had my clammy hands in a fit, unable to place the bullet in the revolver.

“The fun’s over—here I come, baby!” With those final words, the door flew in, busting off the hinges.

I ducked down, the bullets further scattering over the floor with my rushed movements.

“There you are. Getting ready for me?”

I held up the unloaded gun, threatening him to stay there, and hid two bullets in my other hand.

“Leave! Now!” I yelled.

His smile broadened into a wicked grin. “Why would I do that? So you can call the police? Send me back to prison? No, I think I’ll stay.”

He took a step toward me and I swallowed, struggling to hold the gun steady.

“It was more than a coincidence that I saw you in the supermarket today. I mean, here I am, my first day out on bail, grabbing a carton of cigarettes before skipping town, and who do I see? The girl I thought I was trying to help that night. The girl I thought I was being a gentleman with.” He shook his head at me and ticked his tongue.

“I never pressed charges.” My palms were sweating against the weight of the gun in my hands, yet I never let the barrel sway from its aim at his chest. “It was a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Yes, I agree, it was. Except your so-called boyfriend didn’t think so. He did press charges, and he also paid off some guards to make my life hell the past couple months!”

“I’m sorry,” I practically sobbed. “I didn’t know. I haven’t thought about you since that night.”

“Funny, considering I thought about you every. Single. Night I was there. With every fist I took to the gut, elbow to the face, knee to the groin, I saw your face. And now I’m going to make it all worth it.”

Kurt ran at me and I darted to the side and around the bed, focused on loading the gun, but he was fast, knocking me down to the floor the instant the bullet slid in. The gun fell, and I rolled to my stomach, scurrying to reach it.

“Come on, it doesn’t have to be like this. It doesn’t have to be painful,” he drawled in my ear, his body lying flat over mine as I lay on my stomach.

His erection pressed into my ass, and tears began to stream down my cheeks.

This wasn’t happening.

Kurt’s hands grabbed mine and buried them under my chest, then he pressed his palm down between my shoulder blades, using my body to lock them down. His other hand was tugging at my skirt, lifting it over my hips. Then his weight shifted, and I heard the earth-shattering sound of his zipper.

I kicked my feet, but it was useless. He was on his knees, his elbow now digging into my back as I felt him pulling his pants down. I needed to move, get a hand free, something. I couldn’t let this happen.

He leaned forward over me, his elbow lifting only to be replaced by his forearm resting over the back of my neck, forcing my face into the carpet. Tears and snot covered my cheeks, but the pressure removed from my back now allowed me to wiggle my hands.

It was the moment his palm slapped down over my ass before he tore at my panties that I managed to rip my hand free and grab the gun. The weight of his entire body dropped onto me as he began grabbing at my outstretched hands gripping the gun. He snarled, trying to reach it as his bare erection rubbed over my backside.

A loud, piercing scream escaped my throat at the feeling of him there, so close, and my body burst into an uncontrollable tremor, rolling from side to side.

I closed my eyes, crying, screaming, begging for the strength to move the gun at the right angle to shoot. But on my stomach with him on my back, it was impossible, until his weight was suddenly gone.

My body flipped over and I pointed the gun up, only to see Logan holding Kurt against him, his arm around his neck.

“Logan!” I cried, the gun shaking in my hands.

“I’m here, you can put the gun down. The police are on their way.”

My breath had abandoned me, a cold sweat pouring down my face. “He…he…” I sobbed louder, my gun never once moving from the target.

“I know, sweetheart. It will be okay now, put the gun down.”

With the inhale of a deep breath and then another and another, my head spinning, lungs empty, I couldn’t loosen my grip on the weapon.

“He...was…”

“Shhh, I’m here.”

“Son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you both!” Kurt roared, and with indescribable ease, Logan released Kurt just enough to whip him around and connect his fist to the side of his head so hard he fell unconscious to the floor.

Logan was beside me instantly, his hands covering mine and removing the gun slowly. My body fell into his, grasping handfuls of his shirt as I unloaded my sobs onto his chest.

“It’s all right now. I’m here.” He stroked his hands down my back, his heart beating against my ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they released him. Caleb called right before I got your text. One of Kurt’s friends bailed him out.”

He sighed, and his body fell back against the foot of my bed. “God, I’m sorry, Cassandra. This never should have happened. I promise I’m here now. I’ll never let anything bad happen again.”

I wasn’t sure how long I lay in his arms crying until the police knocked on the front door, but when they did, my entire body stiffened against him, not ready to let go.

Logan called out that the back door was open and drew me closer. My back door was more than open—it was destroyed—yet instead of letting that fact and the images of watching the events unfold tear me back down, I found solace in the firm embrace of Logan’s arms that never let me go.

The police entered the room moments later, guns drawn. After they assessed the scene, paramedics followed.

“Can you talk to them?” Logan asked, lifting my face up gently to meet his pained stare. The pad of his thumb ran over the cut on my cheek, and I winced. “I’ll have you cleaned up soon. They’ll need a statement, but if you’re not ready—”

“I’m ready,” I interrupted, sniffling and wiping away the final tears. “As long as you’ll stay with me. Don’t leave. Not yet.”

His eyes softened. “Cassandra, I’m not going anywhere, ever.”

Logan stood and brought me with him as I relaxed against him. Face to face with him, I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” I murmured into the gentle kiss.

“Don’t thank me. It’s what a man in love does.”

“Miss Clarke?” An officer stood behind us, clearing his throat.

“I love you, too,” I whispered, then took a deep breath before turning around.

Kurt was lying on a gurney, wearing a neck brace in the all-too-familiar scene. He was alive, but was going to be in some serious pain when he woke up.