Page 24 of Protecting Lanie

Her heart kicked against her ribs. "What? Why? I can’t just...”

"Youcan," he corrected. "You will."

Lanie forced a breath. "Archer, I...”

"Enough."

The word silenced whatever weak argument she had left.

Archer softened just slightly, his palm brushing the side of her face. "You don’t have to fight this alone, little one."

A sharp lump formed in her throat.

For so long, she hadbeenalone. Even when she wasn’t, it had felt that way.

But not now. Not with him.

She inhaled, shaky but steadying. "Okay," she whispered.

Archer’s gaze darkened, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface.

Molina had made a mistake, and Archer was about to make damn sure he never got the chance to make another one.

Lanie pressed her forehead against the cool window of Archer’s SUV, her breath fogging the glass as the city lights blurred past. Her pulse had slowed from the initial spike of panic, but the lingering chill of fear clung to her skin. The weight of what had just happened—the message, the picture, the undeniable proof that Molina was watching her—pressed down on her chest like an invisible hand.

Archer hadn’t spoken much since they’d left the club. He didn’t need to. His presence filled the vehicle, steady and unwavering, a silent promise of protection. His hands gripped the wheel, knuckles flexing every so often like he was barely holding himself in check.

The ride felt too short and too long at the same time, and before she knew it, he was pulling up in front of her apartment building.

Archer killed the engine but didn’t move. “Inside. I’ll be right behind you.”

Lanie’s fingers curled around the door handle. She hesitated, looking at him. “You don’t have to…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice was pure steel.

She swallowed hard and nodded, pushing the door open. The cold night air bit at her skin as she stepped out, but she barely registered it. Every hair on her body stood on end, hyper-aware of the darkened alleyways, the flickering streetlamp overhead,the shadowed doorways. She’d walked this route a hundred times before. It had never felt this dangerous.

Archer was at her side in an instant, his presence a solid, commanding force. His hand landed at the small of her back, guiding her up the steps and toward the front entrance.

Lanie fumbled for her keys with trembling fingers. The moment she slid the key into the lock, Archer reached past her, pushing the door open first. He stepped inside before she could protest, scanning the dimly lit hallway like a predator scenting the air.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured as he pulled her into the hallway, locked the door behind them and stood her against it.

Lanie obeyed, hovering in the doorway as he moved through her apartment. He checked the locks on the windows, opened every closet, and even pulled the shower curtain back in the bathroom. When he reached her bedroom, he paused, his gaze flicking over her space—a small, neatly made bed, a few scattered books on the nightstand, and the oversized sweater she’d left draped across the chair.

His jaw flexed as he turned back to her. “It’s clear. But I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Her stomach flipped. “Archer…”

“You’re not safe here, Lanie.” His voice softened, but the command in it remained. “Pack what you need. You’re coming with me.”

She wanted to argue. To tell him she wasn’t some fragile thing that needed protecting. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, she knew he was right.

Archer’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his gaze—approval, maybe. Or something darker. As she moved toward her closet, she could still feel his eyes on her, watching, waiting, protecting.

CHAPTER 7

ARCHER

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