Page 15 of Her Protective Lumberjack

“Good. I appreciate it.” He lets out a ragged breath. “Fuck, I won’t be able to sleep until we catch this piece of shit.”

“Me neither.” I swallow hard, fighting not to let my rage show. “Don’t worry. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I know you will. If I hear anything more, I’ll call you.” There’s a moment of silence before he adds, “And Trace?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Chloe I love her.”

With that, Roman ends the call. I try to arrange my expression into something neutral as Chloe asks, “Was that my dad?”

“Yes.” I clear my throat, pocketing my phone. “He says everything is fine. The case is going well, and he’s confident they’ll get Mercer soon. Wanted me to tell you he loves you.”

She smiles. Lying to her feels wrong, but I don’t want her to be scared. She doesn’t need to know about the new threat, but there’s no damn way I’m leaving her side tonight. My body is starting to suffer from lack of sleep, but I won’t give in to it, not when Chloe’s life could be at stake.

While she heads into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up before bed, I make myself a black coffee and gulp it down. I stride through every room of my cabin, making sure everything is locked up tight. Adrenaline is pumping through me, keeping sleep at bay as I get into bed with Chloe, holding her close. The feel of her warm body reassures me slightly. She’s safe in my arms where nobody can hurt her, but it doesn’t stop me from staring around the bedroom, watching for any signs of movement in the darkness, eyes peeled like a predator waiting to pounce.

“Goodnight,” Chloe says sleepily, her sweet voice pulling at my heart.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

I listen to her breathing as it turns slow and heavy, absent-mindedly stroking her hair. Once I’m sure she’s asleep, I shuffle out of bed as quietly as possible and grab the chair in the corner, positioning it by the door. I sit down, feeling for the trusty handle of my axe. It’s leaning against the wall beside me, close enough to grab if I need it. My eyes are dry and scratchy, my limbs heavy with exhaustion, but I’m determined to stay awake.

I will protect my girl no matter what.

This isn’t about doing my buddy a favor anymore. It’s so much more than that. It’s about keeping the woman of my dreams safe—the woman I’m falling in love with. I would die for Chloe a hundred times over, and I won’t let anybody lay a finger on her. No fucking way. I’ll keep her safe if it’s the last thing I do.

My body jerksto life at the sound of a creak somewhere in the living room. I’ve been sitting at my post for hours, and my phone says it’s just after three in the morning. The bone-deep exhaustion I’ve been fighting against is instantly gone when I hear the creek again, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. It’s a windy night, and the trees outside are groaning noisily as a gale billows through the forest, but the creak I heard sounded closer. Like it was coming from inside the cabin.

I silently stand up and grab my axe, my heart thudding against my rib cage. Rocky is growling from the living room. My dog never growls, not unless he feels threatened.

There’s someone in my cabin.

I can feel it.

Someone who wants to harm my girl.

With a quick look back at Chloe to make sure she’s still safely in bed, I slip into the hallway, my fist tight around the handle of my axe. Rocky’s growl turns into a bark, and I abandon my attempts to be quiet. I race toward the living room and flick on the light switch, illuminating a shadowy figure in a ski mask standing by the door. Rocky jumps up at him, yapping wildly, and the figure tumbles backward, swearing. He starts to scramble to his feet, but I’m already on him, pinning him to the floor.

“Fuck!” the man hisses, trying to push me away. “Get off me, man!” He’s strong, but not as strong as me. I lift his body off the ground before slamming it back down, knocking the wind out of him. Red-hot rage courses through me, my vision darkening.

“Who are you?” I growl. “What are you doing in my cabin?”

Rocky is still barking frantically, circling us. The man behind the ski mask doesn’t say a word, and I slam him down against the floor again, gripping his throat with one hand.

“Answer me.” My voice is a snarl, more animal than man. I tighten my fingers around the intruder’s neck until he’s gasping for breath.

“G-got lost,” he chokes. “In the forest.”

“Don’t fucking test me!”

I squeeze his throat hard, cutting off his breathing until he raises his hands in surrender. “Okay! Okay!” He coughs violently, his voice raspy as he says, “Will Mercer sent me.”

“To do what?”

The man is quiet for a moment, and that’s when I notice what’s on the floor beside him—things he dropped when Rocky knocked him down. There are zip ties, a blindfold, a roll of duct tape, and a syringe full of liquid. Revulsion churns my stomach, and my fists shake as I restrain myself from throttling the man again. First, I need him to answer my questions.

“What’s in the syringe?”

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