Cheyenne sighed and took a sip of her coffee before moving to the railing that surrounded the porch. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“I’d like to think I’m more than that,” he told her, staring at the back of her head. When she didn’t turn around or acknowledge him, the pain that sliced through him nearly leveled him.
Maybe he wasn’t more than that to her. Maybe this was temporary in her eyes.
He was about to say something when he heard someone pounding on the front door. Cheyenne spun around so fast, she nearly spilled her coffee.
Now he’d like to see her tell him she’d be fine alone. Screw that shit.
“Expecting someone?” he asked as he headed to the back door, but he didn’t wait for her to answer. He didn’t need her to.
CHEYENNE WASN’T SURE what she was feeling. Anger, fear, frustration … It was all relevant, yet the only word that described it was disoriented.
First of all, the stalker seemed all the more real now that she’d seen the note he had sent. Or a copy of it anyway. The big block letters had been printed nearly perfectly, scrawled in blue ink across the white paper.
The sound of loud voices echoing through the house caused her to pull herself together.
Shit.
Glancing down, she realized she was wearing Brendon’s button-down shirt and nothing else. There was no way she’d be able to face whoever it was—and she had pretty damn good idea—that was currently yelling at the top of his lungs in her living room.
Since there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about her outfit, she steeled herself for a confrontation and went inside to join them.
“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion!” Travis yelled at Brendon as Cheyenne strolled into the living room to join them.
For the very first time since the day she met Travis, she had the urge to punch him right in the arm. Without hesitating, she moved to stand beside Brendon, glaring at Travis as he stared his brother down.
“I’ll ask again. Why. The. Fuck. Didn’t anyone tell me about this shit?”
Cheyenne lifted her eyebrows, waiting for someone to clarify what they were talking about.
“Because she didn’t want you to know,” Brendon snarled. “Goddamn, don’t you see? She’s fucking worried about your family. She didn’t want to bring you into the middle of it.”
Oh, crap.
Travis didn’t respond, nor did he look at her, so Cheyenne felt she needed to say something to defend her position and to get Travis to put away the death glare.
“He’s right,” Cheyenne told Travis. “Brendon’s helping me.”
“Helping you? Is that what this is?” Travis nodded to the shirt she was wearing.
Brendon growled and she knew that this battle of wills was about to detonate and she damn sure didn’t want either of them getting into a fight because of her.
All three of their heads turned when her front door swung open and in walked Gage.
“Motherfucker,” Gage snapped. “Next fucking time you walk out like that, I’m gonna kick your fucking ass. I told you to wait for me.”
Gage’s face was red, his anger apparent. Cheyenne had to figure that Travis had done what he did best—act first, think later. As much as she loved him—he was, after all, the closest thing to family she truly had—she knew he was notorious for flying off the handle.
“Don’t you dare touch each other, damn it. I’ll be right back.” Storming out of the room because there was no way she could have this conversation dressed as she was, Cheyenne went to her bedroom and changed. Less than two minutes later she returned to find Brendon and Travis still standing nose to nose.
Heavens. This was absurd.
“I’d appreciate if you could figure out how to make him act rational. Brendon and I will be in the kitchen.”
Cheyenne grabbed Brendon’s arm and pulled him. He was resistant at first, not budging an inch, but then he gave in, following her. It was then that she realized he was wearing only his jeans. Barefoot and shirtless … Yeah, she could see why Travis was overreacting. He’d been like a brother to her for so long, she understood his irrational need to protect her. But she didn’t need to be protected from Brendon. She was a grown woman. She could make her own decisions, thank you very much.
Urging him toward the kitchen table, she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t bother to sit down. She knew how this worked. She’d been around Travis long enough. These were pure alpha males. Sitting would put them at a disadvantage. Considering their height, she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, but she wasn’t going to question him, either.