“Get the fuck out of my way. He’s my son. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

  “And this is my home, which means I can do whatever the fuck I want. Like call the cops.”

  “What the fuck is that on his mouth?” Clint raged. “Are you trying to make my boy a fag?”

  Fitz snorted. “Oh, honey, you can’t possibly be that dumb.”

  Clint shoved Fitz out of the way so hard, he fell onto the coffee table, the glass top shattering under his weight, but thankfully the solid wood underneath didn’t budge. Ignoring the pain, he pushed himself up and grabbed Clint’s arm as he snagged a fistful of Chloe’s hair.

  “Mommy!” Theo wailed, tears streaking down his red cheeks as Clint tried to drag his screaming mother through the living room.

  “Get your hands off her!” Fitz grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on. He swung the floor lamp with all his strength against Clint’s back. The man roared and spun toward Fitz, who backed up, the lamp held up like a baseball bat. Where the hell was Saint?

  Fitz shouted to Chloe, “Take Theo and lock yourself in my bedroom!” Chloe hesitated, her panicked gaze going from her husband to Fitz. “Go!”

  “First I’ll deal with you, and then I’ll deal with that stupid bitch.”

  “Wow, you are delightful.” Fitz swung the lamp, his heart in his throat when Clint grabbed on to it. The man was bigger than Fitz, wider and stronger, but Fitz wasn’t about to go down without a fight. He kicked the guy’s shin. Hard.

  “Piece of shit faggot!”

  The backhanded slap to his face was even less expected.

  The taste of metal hit his tongue, his lip stinging as he was violently thrown against the wall, the pole of the floor lamp pushed up against his throat.

  “Stop,” Fitz pleaded.

  “Filthy, perverted piece of shit.”

  Fitz tried to claw the guy’s face with one hand but received a punch in the stomach that had him coughing and wheezing. He tried to call out for Saint, but Clint was suddenly torn away.

  “You stay the fuck away from him!”

  Fitz slid down the wall, one hand on his throat, the other on his stomach as he coughed. He blinked away the tears, gasping when he lifted his eyes in time to see Clint lunge for Jack, only to get slammed into the wall. His initial thought was that Clint had it coming, but when Jack’s fist collided with Clint’s body a third time and the man doubled over, a horrible gurgling sound leaving his lips along with a mouthful of blood mixed with saliva, fear gripped Fitz.

  “Jack,” Fitz wheezed, his voice rough and too quiet for Jack to notice.

  “F-f-fucking fag,” Clint spit out.

  For fuck’s sake, Clint, shut the fuck up!

  “What did you say?”

  “Jack.” Fitz had never seen Jack like this. Gone was the warm, uncertain smile on that handsome, boyish face. His silver eyes that usually sparkled with mischief were a flat steel gray, like he’d shut a part of himself down, whatever part of himself reminded him he wasn’t at war. Jack punched the guy in the face, blood splattering across his white button-down shirt. A real fear that Jack was going to kill the guy shook Fitz down to his core.

  “Jack!”

  Jack stilled, fist raised in the air. He let out a heavy breath, then released Clint, the man falling to the floor with a groan. Jack hurried over to Fitz and reached down to help him, but stopped short when Fitz flinched and recoiled from him.

  “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. I would never…” Jack followed Fitz’s gaze to the man writhing on the floor before moving his attention back to Fitz, his silvery gray eyes filled with hurt. “I would never hurt you, Fitz. I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “Call the police” was all Fitz could manage.

  “They’re already on their way. I called them when I found Saint on the floor in the garage.”

  Fitz stared at him. “What? Is he okay? Oh my God.”

  “He’s going to be okay. Someone knocked him out with chloroform. Found the rag on the floor next to him. Why was he out there? How’d that guy get in?”

  Fitz tried to make sense of all the questions. “Um, the lights went out in the salon room, and Saint went to check the fuse box. He wanted me to call the police if he wasn’t back in five minutes, but then Clint showed up.” He held his hand out, and Jack helped him stand.

  “Who’s Clint?”

  Fitz thrust a hand in Clint’s direction. “That’s Clint. He’s the abusive asshole husband of my client, whose hair I was doing tonight. Oh my God, Chloe. Theo. Jack, Theo can’t see his father like that. I know the man doesn’t deserve it, but Theo’s just a little boy. He’s been exposed to enough violence.”

  “You… you think you can protect her from me?” Clint scoffed before breaking into a hacking cough. “I’m going to walk. Always do.”

  “Not this time you’re not,” Jack spat out. “You’re going to jail, Clint. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Someone you’re going to wish you never crossed.” Jack turned back to Fitz. “Why don’t you go see how they’re doing, and I’ll escort Clint outside.”

  Fitz looked from Jack to Clint and back. The uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Jack sighed softly.

  “Please, trust me.”

  With a nod, Fitz left Jack to it, sirens sounding in the distance. He waited until Jack had Clint on his feet and near the front door before he knocked on his bedroom door. “Chloe, it’s me.”

  Chloe opened, peeking around him. “Is he gone?”

  “Yeah, um, he’s outside with, uh… Jack. The police are going to be here in a minute.”

  “Oh my God, Fitz,” Chloe said with a gasp, her hand going to her mouth as she looked him over. “I’m so sorry.” Her face crumpled, and she burst into tears, Theo clutching onto her leg for dear life, his little bottom lip wobbling.

  “Shh, it’s okay. Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight and comforting her.

  “I don’t know how he knew I was here, or how he found your house.” She sniffed. “I didn’t tell anyone I was here.”

  “Do you have somewhere you and Theo can stay tonight?”

  Chloe nodded. “My sister. She lives in Jacksonville.”

  “Does she know about Clint?”

  With a shaky sigh, Chloe pulled back and nodded. “She’s been wanting me to leave him for years. Offered to move me and Theo in with her, but I was so scared.”

  “This is your chance to walk away, Chloe.”

  Chloe shook her head. “They’re just going to let him go.”

  “Not this time.” Fitz knew Jack would make sure of it. Clint was going to pay for his crimes. “How can I help?”

  “You’ve done enough, Fitz. Thank you. Once I talk to the police, I’m going home, packing, and driving to my sister’s.”

  “Okay.”

  The next several hours were spent with the police as everyone gave their statements. Fitz was adamant he’d locked the door, and when Saint woke up, he’d confirm it since he would have heard Fitz do it. Saint was taken to the hospital, where Ryden and Lucky were waiting for him. Jack had barely been off the phone, and one of those calls had been to King. Fitz had no idea what was being said, but by the end of the night, Jack seemed confident Clint wouldn’t hurt Chloe or Theo again.

  It was late when everyone had gone, except for Jack. Fitz stood in his wrecked living room and covered his mouth, his body trembling as his adrenaline dropped. There was glass all over, furniture toppled, the floor lamp on the floor, its shade crushed.

  “Hey.”

  “Oh God.” Fitz jumped, his heart in his throat.

  “It’s okay. Just me,” Jack assured him softly.

  Fitz turned to him and froze. “Is that a gun?” With everything going on, Fitz hadn’t noticed it, but then Jack had also been wearing a jacket. “Oh my God, you brought a gun into my house?”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Jack said gently.

  Fitz could feel the last of his resolve snap. “Why do you have a gun?”

  “Sometimes the job requires it. With everything going on, King thought it would be a good idea to be cautious.”

  “Get it out of my house.”

  “Fitz—”

  “Get it out of my house!”

  Jack held his hands up in front of him. “Okay. I’m sorry. I should have asked. I have a gun safe in my car. I’m going to go lock it up, okay?”

  Fitz nodded. He dropped down onto the couch, his hands covering his face. What the hell was happening? How had he gone from his quiet, uneventful life to… this? He was a hairdresser. He loved being a hairdresser. Stalkers, fistfights, blood, violence, guns… This wasn’t his life. He could have been killed in that car accident, and now that same person—because he knew it was them—had been at his home. What if Jack hadn’t showed up? What if they’d had a gun and killed Saint, or Chloe, or Theo? His thoughts went back to Jack and the way he’d hit Clint. What if Jack hadn’t stopped?

  “Fitz?”

  “I just…” He moved his hands to his mouth and shook his head, then lowered his hands. “You could have killed him.”

  Jack took a seat next to him on the couch, and Fitz jumped to his feet.

  “Wait. You really thought I was going to kill him?”

  “You scared the hell out of me. I mean, I had an idea of what you were capable of, but I never thought…”

  “I admit, I hit him harder than I should have, but I wasn’t going to kill him.”

  “But you could have.” Fitz made himself meet Jack’s steel-gray eyes. “If you wanted to, I mean. You were trained for that sort of thing.”

  Jack’s jaw muscles flexed, his eyes momentarily dropping to his fingers before he lifted his gaze back to Fitz’s. “By ‘that sort of thing,’ you mean kill. It’s okay to say it, Fitz. I’ve killed people. Is that what you want to hear?”

  The words made Fitz flinch.

  “I was trained to protect myself, to protect my brothers-in-arms, to protect others, and yes, to use lethal force when necessary. The places we were sent to…” Jack shook his head and closed his eyes. “They wanted us dead, and they tried their hardest. During one mission, they succeeded. Six of my brothers, gone. Good men. Did I fuck up tonight? Maybe. Am I aware that I can be considered a threat because of my training? Yes. We’re all aware. We also know what we’re doing. Some people think we shouldn’t be allowed to run a private security company. Hell, the fact that we have former military under our employment who are actively seeing mental health professionals has been used against us in court.”

  “What?”

  “Oh yeah. A former client took Red to court, saying it was Red’s fault he lost his business. That because Red was seeing a therapist, he wasn’t mentally capable of making sound decisions and because of Red, he lost his business, when in fact his business partner embezzling is what caused him to lose his business. Red never got an apology, by the way.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “That because I was honorably discharged after half my unit got blown up in front me that I could snap at any point and kill someone? That when faced with violence I can’t stop myself? That my military history means I’m more prone to violence or more likely to hurt someone? It’s okay. You wouldn’t be the first to think that.” Jack stood, and Fitz wanted to go to him, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry. I should have discussed my past with you sooner.”

  “I knew you were in the military.”

  “But you didn’t know it was still a part of me. Not really. No one does until they’re faced with the reality of it. I shouldn’t have assumed…”

  “Assumed what?” Fitz asked quietly, the room so silent Fitz could have sworn Jack could hear his heart pounding.

  “Nothing.”

  Fitz took a step forward. “What?”

  “I shouldn’t have assumed you could handle it, and not because you can’t, but I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to. It’s a lot. I get it. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.”

  Fitz hated being compared to Jack’s previous failed relationships, but in this instance, Jack was right, because he didn’t know if he could handle it. The danger, the violence, the heartache…

  “I’m sorry, Jack, but I just wasn’t expecting all… this.” He motioned to the chaos around him. “The guns, the violence, the danger you put yourself in every day. You’re used to all that, but I’m not. Even without the military thing, I don’t think I could handle knowing something might happen to you out there while on a job, and then you throw this crazy person into the mix, and… it’s too much for me. I just want a normal, quiet life, and my life has been anything but normal or quiet since you walked into it.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Jack flinched, heartache written all over his face.

  “Normal. Right.” Jack let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking Fitz’s heart even more, if that were possible. “Yeah, you’re definitely not going to get that with me.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Jack stood and headed for the door. He stopped halfway and turned, his expression cold. “For the record, we didn’t become Green Berets to kill. We became Green Berets for the same reason we opened Four Kings Security. To help and protect people. De Oppresso Liber isn’t just a motto for us. I’d offer to help you clean up, but I think it’s best if I leave. Bye, Fitz.”

  Fitz couldn’t move, because if he did, he might shatter. His heart splintered into more pieces than the coffee tabletop as the front door quietly closed. Tears blurred his vision, and Fitz covered his mouth with his hand in the hopes of keeping his sobs at bay, his arm wrapped around himself as he sank to the floor.

  What had he done?

  His phone rang, and he picked up. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, Laz.”

  “Jack called. He told me what happened with Clint. I’m two minutes away.”

  Fitz hung up, the doorbell scaring the hell out of him. Slowly he stood when he heard Laz call out. Hurrying to the door, Fitz let Laz in.

  “What happened? Why did Jack sound so… upset?”

  “Fuck,” Fitz said with a sniff. “Red’s going to fucking hate me. They’re all going to hate me.”

  “They’re not going to hate you,” Laz assured him. “What happened? Jack said your client’s husband showed up, there was a fight, the police came. Saint was taken to the hospital. But he didn’t say what happened between you two, and I know something happened, because he wouldn’t have called me otherwise and told me to come here. He said one of King’s guys would be here in ten minutes.”

  Even after everything Fitz had said, Jack was still looking out for him.

  “Christ!” Fitz ran a hand through his hair. “Laz, I fucked up so bad.” He started cleaning up the mess, thanking his friend for helping him, and told Laz everything, including what he’d said.

  “Oh, Fitz.”

  “I know! I pretty much accused him of being a killer. I didn’t mean it, I was… fuck, Laz. A man attacked me in my house, another asshole wants me dead, someone threw a Molotov cocktail through my salon window, and when I saw him hitting that guy, I lost it.”

  “Hey.” Laz took Fitz’s hands in his and sat down with him on the couch. “The stress got to you. It happens.”

  Fitz wiped the tears from his cheeks. “How could I hurt him like that? He’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I fucked it up.”

  “Stop. Tomorrow’s another day. Talk to him in the morning, apologize, have some great make-up sex.” Laz smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand. “Jack will understand.”

  “What if I can’t handle it, Laz? What if I’m kidding myself that this will work? I mean, if that’s the first place my mind goes to, he’s always going to have doubts, isn’t he?”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, but love alone isn’t enough. Maybe it is in fairytales, but not in real life.”

  “Tell him you love him. Tell him you want to make things work. No relationship is perfect. We are not perfect. Red and I, Lucky and Mason, King and Leo, Ace and Colton? They’re all relationships that take work, communication, compromise, and yes, you risk your heart, but it’s worth it, Fitz. Jack is your person. Anyone who knows you two, who sees you together, knows it, but it’s up to you.”

  Fitz nodded. He was miserable. This was awful. Would Jack really understand? Fitz did love him, and he’d never felt anything like this before for anyone. He could see himself growing old with Jack, see them having a family together. If he wanted a future with Jack, he’d have to risk something he swore he’d never risk again.

  His heart.

  TEN

  “Really? You’re going to be all pathetic and broody instead of just working it out with him?”

  Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Too fucking early, Sacha.”

  “I’m not the one who thought it would be a great idea to get drunk and pass out the night before you had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to install hurricane shutters. On a Saturday.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck you too, asshole. Come on. Most people aren’t equipped to handle the kind of shit we are. Some dude comes flying at you, you take him down. We’re trained for that. Fitz isn’t. I mean, fuck, considering everything he’s been through since you two got together, I’d be questioning shit too.”

  “Wow.” Jack stared at Sacha. “Was that you helping? Because that was so not helpful. It was the exact opposite of helpful.”

  “For fuck’s sake. You get a boyfriend, and it’s nothing but fucking drama. Every other time you fight, and now when you should be fighting, you’re waving the fucking white flag.”

  “What?”

  Joker got out of the car and slammed the door, then spun to face Jack, his voice raised so he could be heard over the howling wind. “You go out with all these assholes who want to get with you because they think it’s going to be so fucking exciting, but the second they’re faced with the reality of it, they bolt.”