We cleaned up the kitchen together, which was another nightly routine we'd fallen into. When finished, Brack had me sit back in a chair while he removed my stitches. The wound itched, but didn't hurt at all. I skimmed my fingers over the short stubble of hair and sighed. I had survived with a small scar when another man gave his life.

"You make a good doctor. Maybe we can role play a doctor-nurse fantasy someday," I said to take me out of my morose thoughts. I expected a flip retort from Brack. Instead, he quietly placed his supplies back in the med kit and carried it into the bathroom.

In complete exasperation, I waited for him to come out. "Can we go for a walk?" I asked as I headed to the door expecting Brack to follow.

"Not tonight."

I turned. Putting my hands on my hips, I tried reining in my building temper. "Suppose you tell me why not."

He looked away for a minute before removing his aviators and setting them on the table. At the removal of his glasses, dread filled me. I no longer wanted him to speak. I didn't get my wish.

"The police found Bethany Mitchell dead in her apartment yesterday. She was strangled sometime the previous evening."

The cocoon I'd placed around myself disintegrated. "Was it him?" Please no, please no, please no.

Pity glazed Brack's expression. "Yes, there's no doubt. He left a message for you."

I grabbed large chunks of hair and pulled while obscuring my face with my forearms. I'd known Bethany since I moved into my apartment. My life didn't allow us to hang out on a regular basis. Competition life didn't leave room for close friendships outside of tennis. She made it easy, though. She took the time I could give her. We managed an occasional glass of wine that included late-night bitch sessions about men. And once a month we went to clubs. Now, she was dead because of me.

I didn't realize Brack had come closer until he grabbed me and held my hands in one of his. I had large clumps of blonde hair between my fingers.

My hair.

No pain.

Splotches of color appeared before my eyes.

Red.

White.

Black.

I came to on the floor with my head in Brack's lap. I rolled off placing my palms against the cool wood of the floor pulling my knees in close. Tears filled my eyes and then my throat. I couldn't breathe and that was okay. I wanted to die. Bethany didn't deserve this. She should be alive and I should be dead. She had dreams. Dreams of a good man loving hermarriage, babies. Dreams of going back to school and obtaining her master's degree. Dreams of flying halfway across the world and watching me win a grand slam. I. Killed. Her.

Brack turned me, half lifting me off the floor until he cradled me against his chest. "We'll get him. I promise."

I heard the words. It made no difference. Two people died because of me. Spoiled rotten, rich girl me. The monster killed Bethany while I dreamed about fucking Brack. I sucked in a non-existent breath. On some level I knew air was entering my lungs. On another, I didn't want it to. If I were dead, no one else would suffer.

"If it wasn't you he obsessed over, it would be someone else. This guy is a sick fuck and that is not your fault." Brack's fingers entwined in the hair at my nape and he moved my head away so I was looking into his eyes. "This is not your fault, Olivia."

Through my tears, I saw his blurred face inches from mine. His voice came through a tunnel. A harsh grasp to my upper arm, shifting me, and another pull to my hair had me on my knees facing him. His lips slammed down on mine. The lips I craved for so long now. Nothing. I didn't respond. I couldn't. My body was a rag dolllifelessemotionless. The kiss didn't stop. Brack's tongue entered my mouth, seeking the inner recesses. A harsh kiss that turned even more brutal when I still didn't respond.

He pulled back an inch. "Kiss me, dammit, and I'll fuck you."

I blinked. I no longer wanted to fuck him.

"Don't touch me," I managed to get out as his mouth drew half an inch closer.

"Then breathe, Olly, breathe."

I sucked in a short breath.

"Again," he said. His lips touched mine, but this was no longer a kiss.

I took another breath. "You need to kill him."

"I will."

I shook my head. "There are too many people he can hurt."

"We'll find him first. I-"

I cut him off. "He wants me. Let him have me."

"That won't happen," he growled.

I took a shuddering breath and buried my head against his warmth as heavy sobs escaped my chest and throat. Brack's hand circled my back providing comfort. I needed it. I needed him.

"I'm sorry I lied to you. I had to figure out a way to tell you the truth and I needed some time."

I gave a loud sniff and gained enough control to talk. "There is no way to hear about something like this. I'm the reason she's dead. The other man, too. They died because of me."

Brack's arms tightened around me. "No, a mentally unstable man killed them."

"Because of me."

Brack stood and lifted me to my feet. My body felt a hundred pounds heavier.

"Please," I tried twisting away. "I need to run." If I didn't do something, I would start screaming and never stop.

"You need to call your father," he said gently.

Oh God, my father. He had to be sick with worry and I'd stubbornly ignored him. I'd been pissed that he hadn't asked my opinion on hiring a bodyguard. So, I remained silent when I knew he needed to hear from me.

Brack walked me to the bed. I sat down as soon as my trembling knees hit the edge. He touched a few buttons on the cell phone he'd given me that first day and placed it in my hand. I brought the phone up while staring into Brack's eyes.

"Talk to your father and I'll wait outside." He grabbed his own phone and walked to the door.

"Olivia, I've been so worried," my father's gruff voice sounded in my ear.

"Daddy," was the only word I could get out as loud sobs took over again.

"Oh, sweetie. This isn't your fault. Brack and his team will get this creep. I promise. And if they don't, I'll hire someone to take him out. He needs to die so you'll be safe. I'll see him dead if it's the last thing I do."

I'd never heard my father say anything that would get him into political trouble. That's how I knew he was way past the point of being upset. He was scared just like me. I know he was trying to reassure me. Hearing his worry sent terror streaking through my veins. "He'll come after you, Daddy. You're not safe," I said through quivering lips.

"Let him try. My security team has taken additional measures and I'm not a defenseless woman. This man is a coward."

I was too upset to laugh. I might be the reigning world tennis champion, but I was still female, and in my father's eyes that meant I needed protection. I didn't let the statement bother me like it normally would. For once, I was completely honest with my father about my feelings. "I'm scared, Daddy, really scared."

"I love you, sugar. You need to trust Brack. He knows what he's doing. I wouldn't have put you in his hands if I didn't believe he could keep you safe."

No, he wouldn't. And, I also knew Brack would keep me safe or die trying. "I love you, Daddy."

"Love you too, sugar. How about I read you a story?"

I couldn't help the slight grin that formed on my lips. "Please."

It took a few moments for him to find a book. Then, his soothing drawl warmed the cold that had settled into my body. I swayed slightly to the sound of his voice as tears sluiced down my cheeks. My father used books to speak from his heart. The story could be about any subject in the world, but the message was always love.

My eyes grew heavy and I jumped slightly when he cleared his throat.

"You get some rest now and call me soon."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you."

I clicked end and placed the phone on the nightstand. I stood and walked to the front door. Opening it slightly, I heard Brack's angry voice.

"I don't give a fuck. Do whatever it takes. Call in every favor owed me. Get the guys here ASAP and Mack- bury this psychopath."

Maybe this was why Brack and my father got along.

I walked out onto the raised porch.

Brack hung up and came over, putting his arms around me. "You okay?"

"No, but thanks. I needed to speak with my dad. Now I just need to run."

His arms squeezed a little. "I've got extra security heading this way. They should be here tomorrow. Until then, we're hunkering down. There are laws against having weapons here, but I don't give a fuck. Our guns will come with my men tomorrow." Brack moved so one arm was across my shoulder as he guided me back inside. "You need to try to sleep."

I walked past the door and watched as Brack placed the wood into the slots, securing us inside. Something Brack said earlier popped into my head. "What was the message Ty left for me?"

Brack pulled me close, his palm smoothing across my back. "A bouquet of lilies."

I dreaded the answer, but had to ask. "What did the card say?" I knew there had to be one.

His breath warmed my ear. "Just two words."

"What was it?"

"Lilies die."

I could feel the tears build again. Warm fingers cupped my chin and Brack's lips met mine. "Don't think," he whispered before deepening the kiss.