Chapter 4

When I got the message about Jasmine I was on my feet and excusing myself from the table before I'd even hit reply on my screen. Hell no. That piece of trash couldn't get near her or harass her. She was under Burns protection and should never have to worry for one minute.

I was disgusted by the ex-boyfriend's reappearance. I was happier believing he was probably dead, having pissed off the wrong person for the last time. But there he was, right in Alexandria. I was not a man of primitive urges or violence. I strove to be a reasonable man, rational and measured in my responses to events. This particular situation, Jasmine's ex-boyfriend resurfacing in her life, far from Alabama and cropping up in the online applications—it made me forget I was rational.

If I gave it ten seconds of thought, I'd conclude that he was a garden variety bully, bound to fail miserably. The jerk was trying to creep up on her and scare her, thinking her friendless and hundreds of miles from home. He was incorrect and would learn swiftly that he could not gain access to her in any way. He was no match for even one Burns boy, much less all four of us. And he had no idea what he was up against.

However, I didn't stop for even two seconds much less ten. I told my date, Allie or Addi or something like that, I had to go. Then I just left. I paused at the hostess station long enough to point back at the table and put down a hundred-dollar bill. Then I was gone, breaking traffic laws and running lights, making it to the office in six minutes instead of ten.

Jasmine was afraid. She was there alone. Every nerve in my body fired at once and a shot of adrenaline ripped through my bloodstream. I would yank the door off the hinges to get to her.

I used my security fob to open the door after I messaged Jasmine to let her know I'd arrived and was about to enter the building. When I opened the door, she gave a small cry and I took a step toward her. She sat at her desk, clicked the mouse on her computer a couple of times. She was trying to act normally, but I saw the shine of tears in her eyes before she looked away.

I wanted to go to her, fold her into my arms and promise her that I wouldn't let anything happen to her. But nothing about her body language showed me that she was ready to accept comfort like that. She had a desk between us, and it would stay that way until she decided to come out from behind it.

If she wanted to act casual and minimize the situation, I'd let her do what she needed to do. Even as I kept a tight leash on myself, a chokehold on the protective rage that roared inside me, the surge of alpha male possessiveness I felt toward her was unlike me.

"I've got some time if you want me to look through applications," I said, taking a seat in one of her guest chairs. I leaned back and propped my ankle on my opposite knee, the picture of ease. "I know that Jake told you to come, but you can leave. I'm okay now. It just rattled me at first."

"I'm Elijah Garrett Burns. I was a pilot in the Navy. I'm thirty-two and I have a twin brother. I graduated two years ahead of him because I skipped a couple of grades. Now I work security and fly select clients on their private jets. I like butter pecan ice cream and I've been thinking about getting a dog. Clearly, we haven't met so I thought I'd introduce myself. Because you don't seem to realize I would not leave you alone at a time like this. Not because I think you're weak and not because you're a woman. Because I'm in the business of keeping people safe, and you are not safe here on your own now. If I were being stalked or harassed by a former lover whose mental stability was in question I wouldn't insist on manning the office by myself. Because there's strength in numbers."

"That's kind of you to say, but we both know you wouldn't need someone to protect you from an ex."

"Not necessarily accurate. It depends on the situation. I may be ex-military and I may work security, but I'm just as vulnerable to a threat as the next person if it's the right sort of threat. For example, I was thinking on the way over here, I'm a pretty smart guy. Drew calls me the brainiac, but I always took it as a compliment. I consider things rationally. I'm a problem solver. I have no problem making rapid fire, level-headed decisions when I'm flying or guarding someone. But when it was you, I wanted to rip down the fucking door. I'm serious, don't laugh. I've been out of my head about this. Because you're family. The people closest to me, I guess if they're in danger, I get crazy. I won't apologize for it, even though it's uncomfortable for me in a way, sort of giving in to baser instincts…" I trailed off, saw the way she was looking at me.

Her lips were parted, her eyes bright and hot on mine. I felt it, practically smelled it in the air. Something had shifted between us. The soft flush on her cheeks, the way she was breathing hard, the rise and fall of her chest rapid and her breasts straining at the buttons of her blouse.

My eyes flicked to those buttons and the sweet little gap where the fabric pulled tight over her full breasts. I couldn't do this. I had to get myself under control and that meant keeping my hands and even my impure thoughts to myself.

Jasmine got to her feet and came around the desk.

"I'm glad you came to check on me. You may not think I know you well if I think you'd buy my tough act, but I know you, Eli. I've seen you pretend to like lamb chops at that place we went to for Ty's birthday when he insisted everyone try them. I've seen you outdrink every man in the place on New Year's and then come to work sober and cheerful five hours later. You're loyal and adventurous and so incredibly smart. And I trust you with my life. I always have."

Jasmine gave me a small smile like she was keeping secrets but she'd given it all away with one look.

"If you know me, then you can tell I'm just about dying to hug you and tell you it's going to be okay. Because something in me detonated when I found out your ex hunted you down, and the only thing that's going to soothe that is knowing deep down in my bones that you're safe and I've got you." It felt too much like a confession when I said it aloud, but there was nothing for it.

She had to know how I felt about her already, and if not, there it was. I'd told her I was going crazy if I couldn't hold her and feel every contour of her body, feel the rise and fall of every breath to let it sink in that she was unharmed, that she was still here.

"Don't tell me it spooked you that my loser ex tracked me down. A big tough man like you?" she teased, but I knew what she was saying. She was asking me to tell her it wasn't that big of a deal, that it would blow over. That there was no reason to freak out. Even though it had made me frantic. I couldn't give her false reassurance like that. Even if part of me wanted to tell her anything that might make her feel better.

"You know I'm going to be straight with you." I said gently. "It seems off that he'd slip in the back door like that, turn up in Alexandria and apply for a job at this firm. He wants you know that he knows where you are and what you do and where you spend your time. He showed his cards all at once, and that was his second mistake."

"What was the first mistake?"

"Overlooking the obvious. That you're surrounded by a bunch of ex-military thugs who'd kill for you without a second thought. That any and all of us would put him in the ground. No one touches you, Jasmine. I swear to God, I'll keep you safe." My voice was thick as if I choked up on the last words. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she came mutely into my arms.

I held her against my chest, rested my chin on her dark hair and fitted her against me perfectly, molding every curve and dip, memorizing the shape of her. Jasmine began to tremble against me, and I smoothed my palm over her hair to soothe her. I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The shivering grew worse. I felt it then, a realization in my gut.

Jasmine wasn't shaking because she was scared of her ex. She was shaking under my hands because she wanted me. Once I made the connection, proof of her arousal was everywhere. Her shallow fast breathing, her fingers flexing to grip the front of my shirt. The slight cant of her hips toward me when my hand drifted down her spine and settled in the small of her back.

She nestled into my chest, her breath warm on my skin. My heart rate kicked up and I tried to master my body, to keep from pressing her fast against me, to keep still so she wouldn't notice my hard length that pulsed and ached.

Jasmine was our closest friend. She was also our employee. There was no way I was going to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. I'd been attracted to her for a long time and managed to keep myself in check. Something about the threat to her, the reappearance of the ex she fled Alabama to get away from, made me want to lay claim to her. To make her mine. She deserved to be treated with respect and kindness, not subject to a wave of lust that nearly overcame me.

With every ounce of willpower, I honed in the Armed Forces, I put her away from me gently. "Talk to me, Jas," I said.

"You want me to tell you about him, don't you." It wasn't a question.

She walked over to the reception area couch and sank into it.

"We haven't asked you. In all this time. We didn't want to push or try to force a confidence from you, but he's trying to get to you now. He's used the firm's web site to make contact. My opinion is that it was a sneaky way to access you. He didn't come to the office or call on the phone. There was zero chance for confrontation, which shows me he's either a cowardly little creep or he's smarter than I thought. He's coming at you, and you are so important to me, to all of us, not just as part of the firm but as a friend. It's time to tell us what you can because every bit of information on him helps us keep you safe."

"Okay," she said. "I know you're right. I just don't like to talk about him or even think about that time."

"I'm right here, and I'll help you any way I can," I assured her.

"Fly me far away from here?" she asked, her voice shaky. I knew she meant it as a joke but couldn't quite manage it.

I reached out and took her hand and held it. "Anytime, anyplace," I told her, and I meant it. It was the closest I'd come to telling her how I felt.

"I met him when I was sixteen. Chris was twenty then. He gave me a ride when it started raining on my walk home. He was sweet and funny and told me how I seemed so much older."

I couldn't stop the snarl that drew from me. Chris wasn't just a jerk; he was a predator picking up teenage kids by the side of the damn road outside a school. I made myself take a long breath and let it out, calm myself and put the focus back on her. I couldn't give in to the rage building inside me against him because this needed to be about making Jasmine feel safe and listened to in the moment.

"Sorry," I said. "Go on."

"The next day he picked me up again, was waiting right outside the building. He rolled down the window of his truck and said it wasn't raining but better not take the chance, he wouldn't mind some company. I climbed in and he went and got us fries and Cokes and we talked for a few minutes before he dropped me off. He was totally respectful and didn't try anything, just seemed like he liked me and he was interested in everything I had to say. Even though, I know now it was stupid high school crap I was talking about, and he couldn't have cared less. He gave me his number and that night I called him when I was done with my homework. I was by myself a lot. My mom worked a lot of hours. My sister played basketball and she was gone most of the time. I had some friends, but they had quit asking me to go places because I didn't have a car and I didn't have money to go eat or shop or anything. Mostly I watched TV and read library books. Chris was so much more exciting than that. He would get to where he'd come get me after school every day and take me to the library if I wanted to go there, or we'd go eat and he always paid. I felt weird about keeping it a secret from my family, but it was like he was the only thing that was really mine. He wanted to be with me and talk to me and said he loved my laugh."

Jasmine fidgeted and pain twisted her face. She looked right at me and that was all the invitation I needed. Closing the distance between us I pulled her into my arms and hugged her. She curled up against my side with her head in the crook of my neck. I rested my cheek on her hair. Her shampoo smelled sweet like watermelons and reminded me of summer. I shut my eyes and held her for a minute before she went on.

"He came over to my house and brought pizza. We watched reruns of Gossip Girl, which was my favorite show, and he asked questions like he was really into it. I bought all of it, Eli. I wanted to believe that someone liked me that much and thought I was so interesting. That was the first time he kissed me. Chris asked me to come to his place and just hang out, play his Xbox. I couldn't wait to see him the next day, but I was nervous he wouldn't show up because what if I disappointed him? I had no experience, and I didn't want him to think I was lame. I even talked to Taylor, one of my friends and asked her to tell me what I was supposed to do because I thought I was going all the way with my boyfriend."

"Please tell me your friend had some sense and told you he was a creep and to stay away," I said. She shook her head.

"She said, ‘oh, Chris? I've seen him around and he's hot you're so lucky.' And then she told me how you're supposed to moan and pull on your hair and act like you've been shocked by electricity so he thinks he's amazing in bed, and that boys like it when you…" she trailed off, "Maybe I'll skip this part."

"Okay," I said, trying to keep from screaming because I wanted to go back in time and save her from this asshole.

I could see Jasmine, sixteen years old, hair in a ponytail like she sometimes still wore it, unsure of herself and still a kid, vulnerable and afraid that a grown man wouldn't think she was good enough when he spent weeks grooming her to get in her pants. It sickened me, consumed me with a desire to find him and destroy him slowly piece by piece. Before she went on, I cupped her face in my hand and made her look at me.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said. "You didn't deserve any of that, and he targeted you, a lonely kid, and manipulated you. None of it is your fault. You were so innocent. He wanted that, got off on taking your innocence and tricking you and controlling you. Look at me. You survived him, Jasmine. You are so brave and so amazing. He doesn't even deserve to know your name."

Tears leaked from her eyes as she tried to blink them away. I rubbed my thumb across her lips softly, dying to kiss her, holding back. I let myself kiss her cheek and whisper to her, "You deserve to be loved by a man who sees you, who knows you're smart and tough and funny and capable and so damn beautiful. It makes me sick that he hurt you, but I swear he'll never hurt you again."

She gasped, turned her head just a touch and brushed her lips over mine. It was so light, just shared breath, a heated brush of our lips between heartbeats, and the joy and desire that speared through me should have been enough to send me straight to hell.

Yearning gripped me and out of desperation, I caught her in my arms and hugged her, just to keep from kissing her seriously, from doing everything I could to take away her pain and make her feel as gorgeous and magical as I knew her to be, right on the couch in the lobby of the firm. I would reach the end of my control eventually, but I would not let it be today, not when she needed her friend to comfort her and listen. She hugged me back before sliding away to curl up in the corner again as if she too knew it wasn't a good idea to be so close to me physically right now.

"Long story short," she cleared her throat, "I went to his place, we had sex. It hurt but it was over fast, at least," her cheeks flushed red, "but he acted like it was so great and said he loved me. That soon. And told me he wanted me to move in with him, that he didn't care what people said about our age difference. He wanted me in his life and that we belonged together. I finally said I'd talk to my mom about moving in with him just to get out of there. I should have known then, when I was willing to give in if it would get me away, that it was a bad idea. My mom hit the roof. She said no way in hell was her little girl moving in with some grown-ass loser. I had to finish school and wait till I was eighteen and see what else was out there. She didn't want me getting stuck in that town like she did when she got pregnant in high school. That made me feel worse, like I was what ruined her life. She was so strict with me and said she wasn't going to let me go near him. So that night I snuck out with a bag of stuff. Some clothes, books, my toothbrush, and I took my blanket from my bed. At school, my little sister came and cried once in the girls' bathroom and begged me to come home. She said she heard scary stuff about Chris. I told her he wasn't like that and she should come meet him but she said Mom wouldn't let her."

"So he isolated you from your family and probably told you that no one understood that you belonged together and that it was the two of you against the world," I said grimly. She nodded.

"I went to my mom's a couple times but she wouldn't let me in unless I was there to stay. Unless I was ready to admit I was wrong and needed to come home. I haven't seen her since my graduation. She and my sister got me flowers and came and hugged me and she cried and said she was so proud of me. She begged me to move home and she'd help me go to college. I said I'd like to come visit, but she said I couldn't come back to the house if I was bringing him with me. I got mad, said I wouldn't speak to her until she accepted I was an adult and apologized to him. I haven't seen Mom or my little sister since then," she broke off, cried into her hands for a minute. I put my hand on her shoulder and she just leaned over on the couch till her head was on my knee. I stroked her hair and whispered that I was sorry, that they knew she loved them and he was the problem.

"Why didn't you call her when you left?"

"I was scared to. I thought he'd go after them if they heard from me or knew where I was. And I was so embarrassed to admit what happened. That I was with him for seven years, and five of those I was trying to leave. I even got a job in Birmingham and told him I was moving. He was mad, said he'd never let me go. Beat the shit out of me that time. I couldn't go to the ER because he'd get in trouble, and I was more afraid to make him more mad than I was to lose the tooth he knocked out and have my wrist heal wrong. It did. I wrapped it best I could, but it still hurts sometimes. He'd be so nice after, bringing me presents and getting a job for a while and loving up on me. It would be like it was at the beginning for a while. But I was smarter that time and I waited till he was passed out drunk and I took off. All I took was my purse and a change of clothes. I went to Birmingham, took the job, got a place with a roommate. I was on my own almost two weeks, looking over my shoulder the whole time. Then he showed up at my work with flowers acting all sweet."

"How did you finally get away from him?"

"I changed everything. Cut up my ID and my credit card, didn't use anything that could be tracked. I don't have social media under my own name and never post pictures of myself. I'm not in contact with anyone from my old life. When I got this job I had to give my real name and get the background check. I guess filing taxes in Virginia must've got me or else he just knows how to find me no matter what I do."

"Don't think like that. He's not all powerful and he's no match for us. The bastard doesn't have a chance. But here's what I'm thinking… you move in with us for a few weeks till we get the cops to take care of him."

"I don't want to—"

"I know none of this is what you want. But before you say it, you're not an inconvenience. It's move in with us or one of us sleeps at your place and you never get a moment's peace. At least at our house you'll have your own room and won't have to step over some six-foot-four grizzly bear on your bedroom floor to get to the bathroom," I said.

Her eyes shut, tears trailing down her cheeks. She gave a small nod, agreeing to stay.

I got on the bro chat and told them she needed to stay with us for a while. That I'd tell them everything later and just be gentle with her. They unanimously chimed in that of course she could move in, and they'd go get her stuff for her and anything she needed. When I told her, she gave a watery smile and thanked me. I never wanted to see her like that again, broken down and crying, scared and sad and grateful for any bit of decency she was shown.