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Found out her brother has been doing drugs and gambling away everything she'd worked for.

Got grabbed by some greasy motherfucker while his buddies trashed her bar.

Hell of a fucking day.

I'm still pissed at myself for letting those bastards leave breathing.

Maybe that's something I can revisit later.

Right now I have more important things to take care of.

Sloane needs me.

And I'll be damned if I'm anywhere else.

I kill the engine.

The sudden silence settles over us.

She doesn't stir.

Not even a little.

I climb out, walk around the truck, and carefully open her door.

“Sloane,” I murmur.

Nothing.

Her breathing stays slow and even.

Christ.

She is done.

Without letting myself think too hard about it, I slide one arm beneath her knees and another behind her back.

She weighs almost nothing.

Or maybe I'm just too damn aware of how perfectly she fits against me.

I lift her into my arms.

Her head immediately falls against my chest.

One tiny sigh escapes her lips.

Then she burrows closer.

Every protective instinct I possess goes absolutely feral.

Mine.

The thought lands hard enough to make me swallow.

Not mine to own.

Mine to protect.