She came home to care for her dying father. She didn't plan on debt collectors—or the one who cornered her in the hospital parking lot, hands where they didn't belong, breath hot against her neck. She didn't plan on needing to be saved.
And she definitely didn't plan on Elijah.
Her brother's best friend. Scarred. Dangerous. The boy she used to follow around now runs the kind of business people only whisper about. He's avoided her for years. But the moment that man touched her, Elijah was there—and he broke his wrist without a word.
Now he's everywhere. A wall between her and every threat she can't see. Watching her like she's something precious. Something he's wanted for years but won't let himself have. When a doctor flirts too long, Elijah's hand finds the small of her back, his voice a low rasp in her ear: Mine.
She knows she should be afraid of what he's become.
The real fear? How badly she wants those bloodstained hands on her skin.