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“What do you want to do?” Hunter asked her.

Her head jerked. “Leaving town won’t do any good. He’ll either keep killing or he’ll just follow me.” Because she no longer believed that gunshot in New Orleans had been random. No way. Not with the attacks in Hathaway. Not with Tiffany having pictures of her in New Orleans on that murder wall in her dorm room. “We have to find him. We have to stop him.” Originally, she’d wanted to make sure she had the right man on death row.

But…

“Nate isn’t killing people now,” she said.

“Maybe someone he knows is.”

She bit her lower lip. Drew the covers tighter to her body. “You mean…like someone else who was there that night?” Like…the person she’d seen in some of her flashes? The one in the ball cap? The gray shirt?

“Maybe…or maybe Nate has a super fan out there doing his dirty work. Someone who wants to finish what Nate started. Kill you. Leave the town of Hathaway swimming in blood. Tiffany was researching Nate’s past crimes. She was talking to Nate. Makes sense that she might have talked to others in this town, too.”

Yes, yes, it did make sense. “We have to talk with him.” She hadn’t been face to face with Nate Shiloh since he was found guilty. The idea of being so close to him again terrified her, but there was no choice. “We have to see him.”

“Damn straight, we do.”

She blinked. “How will I ever repay you for helping me? The cash I’m giving you won’t be⁠—”

“Fuck the cash. You’re not paying me a dime.”

What? “But…but you pulled in your friend John Henry, too.” Someone she’d only glimpsed for a moment. “That’s two bodyguards.” Twice the fees and that would be a lot, but she would pay, absolutely, she would.

“I’ve got John Henry covered, don’t worry about him. As for me, I’m a liar, sweetheart.” He eased back down in the bed.

She kept sitting and clutching the sheet. She’d just found out that a man had been murdered. There was no way she would be sleeping again that night. “What do you mean?”

“I lied from the beginning. I never had any intention of taking your money. I’m guarding you, I’m helping you, and you won’t pay me a dime.”

He could not be serious. “I get that you’re new to the PI business.” A delicate clearing of her throat. “But in order for a business to be a success, you have to take payments from your clients.”

His hand lifted. His knuckles brushed over her cheek. “Don’t worry. I have plenty of money. I invested in Declan’s company years ago. I’m a fucking millionaire several times over.”

What was happening?

“Does that make you want me more?” he suddenly asked. Again, a careful brushing of his knuckles of her cheek.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. Damn but that is fucking adorable.”

“Hunter, a man is dead.” Something that was making her shake apart from the inside. “And Jonah thinks he’s dead because I came back here.” There was nothing adorable about her or that situation.

“First, Jonah is a dick. You didn’t kill anyone. You are not responsible for the twisted-ass actions of others, got me?”

She wet her lips.

“And, second, I do think you’re adorable—I think everything about you is fascinating. But I’m trying to distract you because I could tell the news about Harvey gutted you.” A pause. “My distraction isn’t working, is it?” His hand fell from her cheek.

She shook her head. “I-I…” Tears escaped.

“Let me help you. Please.” His arms were open again.

She went into them. He hugged her close. He tucked her against him. He held her while she cried. And maybe…

Maybe he forgot that it was her right ear that had the damage. Her hearing aid was on the nightstand, near the phones. His lips brushed against her, brushed over her left ear as he held her and then he whispered, “I love you. Let me help you…”

Maybe he hadn’t meant for her to actually hear those words. Maybe they were just⁠—