Page 118 of L.O.V.E

He reached for my cheek. I knocked his hand away.

His chest rose and fell. Once, twice, three times.

I feared my heart would detonate, the roar between my ears deafening. The man before me struggled for composure, and when he closed his eyes, took one long breath, then blew it out slow and steady, I knew I wouldn’t like whatever came next.

“I’m here to fight for you, Nats.” He scratched his head, messing his now shoulder-length blond hair. “I was such an idiot before. I never should’ve let you get away. I should’ve cherished you.” His pale blue eyes darkened, filling my blood with adrenaline.

“Holden.” I held up a hand and took a step back. “Stop right there.”

“Let me speak,” he said, his plea robotic, practiced. “Let me say what I need to say.”

“No!” I didn’t step away again, but instead hobbled closer and lifted my chin to make sure he heard me loud and clear. “Nothing you say will make me change my mind.” I took a breath, measuring my words. “You have to stop. Creepy as this is, you stalking me to another state, deep down, I know you have a good heart—”

“I’m not a fucking stalker,” he cut in, his glare darting toward the door, then landing back on me. He gripped my bicep, squeezing hard enough to let me know he wasn’t messing around. “I’m not crazy.”

Clearly, the man was unstable. Through the fear seizing my muscles, I said, “You’re hurting me.”

He blinked. Released my arm. Huffed. “You need me, baby. Look.” He retrieved my crutch but held the metal aide with two hands. “Clearly, you’re in need of help. It’s fate, us bumping into each other. Let me help you to your apartment. We can talk.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.”

Rolling his eyes, he hissed, “Our future.”

“We don’t have a future,” I said, jerking the crutch from his hands.

The asshole laughed and stepped back, settling on his heels and crossing his arms. “We do now. I got rid of your boyfriend. He’s not coming around anymore. I made it clear you belong to me.”

“My boyfriend?” My veins went ice cold.

Leaning down, he hissed, “Don’t play stupid. You got my texts and the photos. That guy outside the bank. The one who had his hands all over you.”

Caleb.Oh, God. He hadn’t shown up for our meeting with the Rossi Corporation. He wouldn’t have missed that meeting by choice. “Got rid of?”

“I let him know I was back in your life. Gave him a taste of what would happen if he touched you again.”

“How did you find me?”

“I’ll always find you, Nats. Always. Because you’re mine.”

“Holden, this is…” I staggered back a step, then caught my balance.Oh, God. What should I do? Play on his emotions or scream for help? Surely, somebody would hear.

“I’m not feeling so well. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“You owe me one uninterrupted conversation, Nats. Let’s go upstairs.” Strong fingers cinched my arm. “Just hear me out, and you’ll see. Everything will be fine.”

The door behind me opened. “Hey, Natalie,” came a soft voice. “Oh, no. What happened?” My neighbor, who also waitressed at The Truck Stop Diner, stepped between me and Holden, her blue eyes wide with worry, her breaths labored, like she’d sprinted down ten flights of stairs.

“Hey, Tuuli.” I’d never been so happy to see another human being in my life. “Just a little fall. Twisted my ankle. I’m fine.”

“Who’s your friend?” she asked, her hand linking with mine and giving it a squeeze.

Strange.

We were friendly, but not holding hands friendly, and though she served me on more than one occasion at the diner, she was a woman of few words, and while I knew she lived in the penthouse of my building with her husband, we’d never bumped into each other outside of the restaurant.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Holden announced, inching closer, offering his hand. “Holden Oswald Travers The Third.”

Bile rose in my throat. But sweet Jesus, I was thankful for the petite body next to me, her size small but her presence mighty.

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