“Don’t fight me on this,” he said.

“Fight you on wh—”

In one swift movement, Hunter scooped me up. His muscular arms cradled me, one sliding under the bend of my knees, the other wrapping around my back, the sudden motion and unexpected intimacy it created leaving me breathless.

Especially with his face only inches from mine and him looking down at me like this. Like…nothing had changed between us.

As I stared into his eyes, memories of our shared laughter, whispered secrets, and stolen glances flooded my mind. It was tempting to fall back into my feelings for him—my heart at war with my mind—but they were now tainted with the grim reality of his actions. Thirty feet away, a bloodied corpse lay as evidence of the true man that Hunter Lockwood was.

Hunter began walking down the tunnel, but he didn’t take his eyes off mine.

His intense gaze was like a tornado you couldn’t look away from despite the danger lurking in their winds, and his heartbeat…I could feel it strong and steady, beating with the rhythm of my own. Which was terrifying and beautiful all at once.

His scent—sandalwood masking a hint of sweat—triggered the memory of our first kiss and the electric spark that ignited between us. I didn’t want to remember that spark, but there it was, rekindling, making me question everything.

And as we walked through the dark tunnel, time seemed to slow, allowing warmth to cascade throughout my body. It was shocking how, despite being surrounded by death and darkness, the closeness between us could feel so natural.

Yet foreign all at once, familiar but seductive.

His muscles strained with my weight, but he didn’t falter as he carried me with the same determination he’d always had, the same strength that drew me to him in the first place. It was that strength, his unwavering determination, that made me fall in love with him.

And, though I struggled to understand why, those feelings were resurfacing now.

Maybe it was because of the vulnerability in his eyes—a knowing look that he was doomed to lose me forever. Or maybe, with Hunter’s arms around me, I felt safe.

And loved.

Despite all that had happened, I knew deep in my heart that Hunter would stop at nothing to protect me even if that meant protecting me from himself—his alter ego, the Vigilante.

I hated how much I needed his love, how much I wanted him and the love that still lingered between us.

Hunter’s breathing grew uneven, and for a moment, he seemed trapped in the pull of some unseen force. Then, with a visible shudder and a sharp exhale, he managed to ground himself back to the present, breaking the spell that had momentarily ensnared us both as he set me down by the staircase.

It was too narrow to carry me up, so he guided me, step by step, making sure I didn’t fall.

The change of scenery helped me refocus on the fact I was still being taken against my will and needed to do something.

He had my cell tucked into his pocket—of course he did. He’d never leave it to chance that I could break free and call for help, but it now butted against my hip as he carried me through both closets.

Trying to take it was probably totally doomed, but I had to try.

As we passed through a doorway, I pretended to adjust my posture and bumped my foot against the frame—hard. The jolt let me snatch the phone.

“Stop fighting me,” Hunter demanded.

I pretended to widen my eyes in fear and had to seriously work hard at not saying a sarcastic comeback. Because I got it. The phone was in my hand.

The relief was immense when he began walking again, guiding me through the hallway before finally depositing me on my feet in the guest bedroom.

Where I stood with my hand behind my back, hiding my cell phone, my only hope of escape.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll be a lot more comfortable in here.”

“You can shower.” He nodded his head toward the bathroom. “I’ll bring you up some food soon.”

I nodded.

Hunter turned to walk out the door, my heart fluttering at the victory I gripped in my hand. He stopped, clenched his fists, and turned around.