HUNTER

In an effort to keep my mind off last night's violence, I ask Natasha and Siobhan to help me pack. Ever since the attack, I've struggled with my panic. I've seen what can happen if fear takes over a person's life. That's probably why I've avoided speaking to Austen on the phone today. If I hear her fear, I'll likely break down.

I still end up crying as I zip my suitcase. Dropping my ass on the hardwood floor, I sob in my hands. My friends join me on the floor and hug me between their bodies.

Neither one wastes time pretending everything will be okay. They understand how empty words won't distract me from the reality of my situation.

"I'm afraid I'll join my mom and things here won't get fixed. What do I do then?" I ask them as we huddle in a three-person embrace.

"I don't know," Natasha replies and wipes her wet eyes before kissing my cheek. "But the solution might be more obvious after you've created distance from the problem."

"What if the person simply waits for me to return?"

"I don't think that'll happen," Siobhan says and rests her cheek on my shoulder. "The men who attacked you left a paper trail. Between your mom and Tack, they'll track down every lead until they find out who hired those bastards. Then, the main guy will die, and you can come home."

"And when you get back, life will offer new possibilities."

Though I smile at Natasha's meaning. I'm still worried Tack and I can't last. My parents have always bounced from one heart-racing romance to another, but the passion never lasts. Ideally, Tack and I could be more like Aunt Fred and Elvis, still in love after more than three decades.

I want to believe Austen and Walla Walla will stick. They seemed so happy when I visited them weeks ago. Can they break the Knutsen love curse? How much do Austen and I take after our mother?

Tack joins us for a late lunch in the back courtyard. We keep the conversation light by talking about Siobhan's girls and Natasha's pregnancy. Though Tack feigns interest in our lady conversation, he mostly watches me as if memorizing my features for when I'm gone.

Thirty minutes into our lunch, Atticus asks for us to take our meal inside.

"We've noticed several cars make repeated passes by the front of the estate," he explains as men spread out over the yard and move toward the fences. "One of them sped off when we approached. We haven't located the second one. It'd be best to remain indoors."

I decide my friends would be safer away from the estate. Tack doesn't disagree before going to speak with security.

Siobhan and Natasha hug me tightly, promising we'll be together soon. We probably cry far more than necessary, yet our goodbye holds a sense of dread for the future.

Before Natasha and Siobhan leave, Tack stops them and explains something. They look back at me and wave. Then, Siobhan leaves her truck behind and joins Natasha in the SUV.

Tack stands next to me and explains, "I worked out a plan with Kovak Syndicate security. One of their guys will drive Siobhan's truck while Natasha and Siobhan chill out together on the ride. They'll make sure everyone gets home okay."

I watch my friends leave and wonder when we'll share a room again. Sighing, I check my phone and see the family lawyers are twenty minutes out while the police detectives' arrival time is scheduled for two hours from now.

"Let's get you away from the windows," Tack suggests as I scan the massive trees circling the mansion.

Once we've retired to a living room with the curtains closed, Tack reaches over to stroke my back where I keep rubbing. Our gazes meet, and I struggle to remain in control of my emotions.

"The lawyers will be here soon," I mumble, just to break the silence.

"I've already talked to the cops. They must be getting pressure from above because they nearly kissed my ass during the interview."

"Did everything else go okay while you were gone?" I ask and inch closer. "You seemed paranoid when you arrived."

"I felt like someone was following me," he says, and I instantly contemplate the cars driving past the estate. "I swear I saw the same cars more than once. Could be anything, though. I get heat from the cops sometimes or tailed by local thugs looking for club weaknesses. Might not be about you at all."

My mood sours from worry, but I hide my feelings once the lawyers arrive. We go through last night's events twice before I tell the same story to the police. The detectives explain they are working on several leads. They also mention how my mugger hasn't turned up.

"He's either dead or in the wind. His employer might have killed him after his failure," explains the detective and glances at Tack nearby. "Or he might have gotten on the wrong side of someone else. Either way, we haven't been able to locate him. We're focusing on how last night's attackers might have zeroed in on you."

After the detectives and lawyers leave, I tell Tack I need to rest until dinner. He is clearly worried and wants to follow me, but I insist I need to be alone. Once hiding in my room, I finally call my sister.

When Austen answers, I insist she tell me about her day rather than ask about mine. She plays along and explains what she had for breakfast. One of the women living at the same lodge as Austen and Walla Walla is a professional chef. Austen is always bragging about her fun mealtimes.

My sister sounds so happy as she tells me about design plans for her future house with Walla Walla. She talks about baby names and shares a funny story about her best friend Coco who moved to McMurdo Valley with her. By the time Austen asks if I'm okay, I feel better.

"I think I'm okay."

"There's no harm in admitting you're scared," Austen replies. "Fear doesn't have to be debilitating like it was for me. Fear can help you grow."

Austen's hopeful outlook inspires me to stop hiding in my room. I return to the main living room where Tack is stretched out on the couch. He isn't wearing his boots, and I smile at his bare feet.

"You've been crying," Tack says, sitting up and scowling like a guilty kid. "Maybe I should have convinced Siobhan and Natasha to stick around."

"No, they need to be away from here," I say and then settle next to him on the couch. "I also wanted to be alone with you. The flight is set for tomorrow. Tonight is our last time to hang out before I'm gone for who knows how long."

Tack stares at me with conflicted blue eyes. He opens his mouth twice to say something. I suspect he wants to ask me to stay. I bet he's considered possible alternatives to my plan to hide in Hong Kong.

I've imagined scenarios, where I stay at the estate for weeks or months with Tack as my roommate. The idea seems so fun, except he'd basically be giving up his life.

As he slides my hair behind my ear, Tack asks, "I heard Natasha say something about house shopping when you get back."

"I've been thinking about moving since Natasha was attacked," I explain while admiring the beautiful man at my side. "I used to love my view of Jefferson River, but I can't look out my windows without imagining Natasha and Petra struggling to survive in the water. Their driver died in that river. After last night, I'll never feel comfortable in the garage again."

Edgy now, Tack mutters, "Where would you go?"

"Siobhan and Natasha have been pushing me to buy something in their neighborhood. It would be nice to be so close, but I don't know how much I'd enjoy living in such a family-heavy neighborhood."

Losing his tense vibe, Tack nearly bounces in his seat. "Sync lives in the same neighborhood, and he throws parties every month. It's not as lame there as you might think."

Tack wears a half-grin as he imagines me living in a house. I've never sensed he liked my condo's size or trendy downtown location.

"A house with a yard would allow me to get a dog," I explain, imagining us with pets. "I'm also thinking about adopting a cat, so more space than my condo would be nice."

"Would you want a house like your mom's?" he asks, glancing around as if the craftsman-style mansion is a behemoth ready to attack.

"I like unique houses. Quirky ones, I guess. But whenever I've looked online, those weird houses were always small. If I'm going to embrace suburbia, I would prefer a yard and space for my drum set. I don't want half of my stuff to remain at my mom's house like it currently is. So, I think maybe I won't find the style I want. Of course, I can buy a big place with a nice lot and turn it into a weirdo house I like."

When Tack's gaze warms as if he's imagining our future, I ask, "What kind of houses do you like?"

"I don't know."

"I bet you do."

Considering my question, Tack shrugs, "My parents' house was pretty standard, but my uncle had a nice house. Fancy but not huge in the way this house is. Just upscale, I guess. It'd probably be boring to a weirdo like you."

Grinning, I pull out my phone and search house styles. "Show me which style fits your uncle's house."

"It doesn't matter."

"What if after our best date ever, I want you at my house all the time? I need a place where you can feel comfortable walking around barefoot."

Tack grins at my comment and swipes through the images. He finally settles on a traditional-style home. "Boring, huh?"

"It's a house for a banker and his TikToker trad wife."

Chuckling, Tack shrugs. "It's the only fancy place I know besides your mom's. Well, I guess, Bear's place is pretty fancy."

"Let's see what houses are on the market right now in their neighborhood."

Tack studies me instead of the phone. Up close like we are now, I can see how blond his lashes are and the way his baby-blue eyes darken when he's conflicted.

Outside, the sun sets, and the growing darkness masks danger. I scoot closer to Tack and rest my phone on the table.

"I'm not looking forward to flying for a day," I mumble, overwhelmed by how unsafe I feel. "Normally, I'd have more time to prepare for such a trip."

"You could put it off for a few days."

I rest his hand between mine on my lap and explain, "You know how, back when I was a teenager, my nose was broken when Austen and I were attacked by men at her father's ranch. I chose to fight those men. I probably wouldn't have gotten my nose broken if I had given in, but I needed to own my body. When I look back to that night, I remember my rage more than the fear."

Staring at his hand, I continue, "Last night, I also fought back. But then, he hit me with the taser, and I felt completely helpless like a baby. Today, I want to be strong and rational, but I'm frozen with indecision. A part of me knows I'll be safer with my mom in charge. But I'd be happier here with you. I don't know what to do."

Tack wears a pained expression. He knows I'm about to ask him to decide. When I say the words, he looks as if I've dumped the world's problems on his shoulders.

Tack glances upward and shakes his head. He struggles with choosing between what's rational and what his heart craves.

Cupping my jaw, Tack covers my lips with his. This isn't a testing kiss. There's no flirty tease to his lips. He uses his powerful body to pin me under him on the couch. Tack kisses me deeply as if our lives depend on us breathing as one.

I meet his passion with my own. Today's fear and confusion are beaten back by the heat whipped up inside me by this man. I've never been so desperate to get closer to anyone.

Tack frees my lips and stares into my eyes. "The fucked-up kid in me is sure you'll never return, but the grown-ass man knows you're not safe in Banta City."

Sliding my fingers across his stubbled cheeks, I sigh. "I rarely suffer regrets. I made a choice to hold you back. Right now, I'm making a choice by asking you to stay over tonight."

"I'm already doing that," Tack mutters as if I might push him out the door.

"I mean stay overnight in my bed," I say and then add when I'm unsure if he's fully understanding, "I don't want to travel to Hong Kong as a virgin."

Tack blinks rapidly as if I've given him a test with unclear answers. I slide out from under where his powerful chest has kept me pinned to the couch. Once standing, I hold out my hand.

"Let's go fool around in my bed."

"Be honest. Is this just happening because you're scared? I'm willing to stay over without any reward."

"Why do you assume you're the one getting the reward here?" I ask as he takes my outstretched hand. "You're an experienced lover. Seems like I'm the one getting the reward tonight."

Tack chuckles at my reasoning, even as he seems reluctant to finally get a taste of what he's been craving.

After guiding him to my bedroom, I lock the door behind us. He looks around and inhales deeply as if overwhelmed.

I walk into my closet and strip down to my T-shirt before heading to the bathroom. After I clean up, I find Tack in the exact same spot.

"I love you, Tack. I've been holding back for a long time. Now, I'm leaving town, meaning everything will shut down between us again. That's why, before I go to Hong Kong, I want to know if you fuck as well as you kiss."

Tack watches me with the wary gaze of a man done wrong for too long. I'm uncertain if he can truly trust me.

His fingers brush across my lips before tucking under my chin. He lifts my jaw and kisses me tenderly.

"I'm saying yes, Tack."

His expression hides absolutely nothing. My heart soars over how much he wants me. I'm also struck cold with worry.

After all, how can the real me ever live up to his long-held desires?