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Protecting What's Mine
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Protecting What’s Mine
Ella Goode
Contents
Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
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Violet King is a devoted sister, fierce friend, and a savvy businesswoman. She’s also the love of Sebastian Turner’s life. A terrifying run-in with a stalker has left her suffering from PTSD, and she refuses to force her ‘limitations’ onto the man she’s always loved, Sebastian.
But Sebastian has other ideas. He knows about Violet’s pain, and he wants to be there for her. Forever. Convincing her of this will be his greatest challenge, but he’s up for it—even if it takes him the rest of his life.
Chapter One
Sebastian
“Hey boss,” Welsh, our background specialist, knocks on my door. “There’s a new delivery driver assigned to Violet’s route. You want me to look into him?”
I set down the new B&T pistol I’m testing. “Yeah, when did that happen?”
“I’m not sure. The gate guard didn’t recognize him and refused to allow the guy up to the house. The delivery dude wouldn’t leave the package unless he had a signature from Violet. Marin, the gate guard, told him that we always accept the packages at the gate, but the dude refused. Violet was pissed. She’d been waiting for that package.”
“Pissed at Marin?”
“No. The delivery company. She rang them up and told them to redeliver it, but they said they couldn’t do it until the next day since the package is on the truck or she could come into the office after hours and pick it up herself.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Violet is agoraphobic and hasn’t left her home for a long time.
“They apologized and said the driver was new, but it wouldn’t happen again,” Simon finishes.
“Definitely run a check on him and find out what happened to the old delivery guy. Was he fired? Did he quit? Are any of them connected to Violet?”
“On it.”
Violet wasn’t always housebound, but she got a stalker and he showed up everywhere--at her work, at her home, at the place she did yoga. He called and texted her non-stop. She’d change her phone, but he’d find her again. Finally, she reported it to the cops, but they told her that she should be flattered. When he escalated from following her around to leaving shit in her car and home like dead animals and dead plants, her brother went with her to file a report, but the excuse they were given at that time was that the stalker hadn’t done anything against the law even though Violet was afraid to leave her house or answer her phone.
The harassment went on for three months until he tried to kidnap her. This got him a prison sentence of a laughable eighteen months. He gets out soon. Violet, on the other hand, hasn’t been able to leave her brother’s house since the kidnapping.
The door to the shooting gallery bangs shut. I screw the suppressor back onto the barrel and then twist the knob 90 degrees to load the cartridge.
“You should stay in prison because accidents can happen out here in the real world.” I fire a single shot down the lane into the red dot over the silhouette’s heart.
I should’ve stayed at the shooting range, I think when I open my office door and see my mother lounging in my office chair.
“I’ve got sensitive material on my computer, Mom.” I toss my workout bag onto the sofa and motion for her to get up.
“It’s not like I could get in anyway,” she huffs, flouncing around to one of the two chairs positioned in front of the desk. “Your passwords are too complicated.”
She probably tried, though. She’s nosier than a cat in a fishery. “They’re supposed to be complicated.”
I flick my mouse and see that the screen is locked out meaning she had tried and failed so many times she triggered security. I reach under my desk and press the handprint sensor that she doesn’t realize exists. The login screen appears, and I type in my, yes, complicated password. I’m a security specialist, and it’s my job to keep people safe, which means even my own mother can’t have access to my data.
“What do you need?” I ask because there’s no way she stopped here without a reason. Maybe it’s money, maybe it’s a favor. Whatever it is, we both know I will likely do what she asks. I’ve never said no, even though some things have been ridiculous, like the time she wanted to buy a purse that cost more than a car or the time she wanted to get into a lipstick selling pyramid scheme.
She reaches into her purse for her phone. “I met this darling girl the other day at the gym and—”
“No.” I guess there’s a first time for everything.
“Sebastian, you haven’t even heard what I’m going to ask. Let me show you her picture.” She flicks her finger across the device and turns the screen in my direction.
I ignore it. “I’m not interested.”
“You cannot still be hung up on that Violet girl, are you? Darling, she has rejected you so many times. I appreciate your devotion. That is an admirable trait you have but
how will I ever have grandbabies if you are still pining after that girl?”
“You should look into adult adoptions. I hear that’s an actual thing these days.” I browse through my emails, deleting all the junk mail, and flagging the inquiries that need responses.
“Sebastian David Turner!” She shouts my full name.
“Yes?”
“Don’t ignore me.”
With a sigh, I spin away from my monitor to look my exasperated mother in the eye. “You need to come to terms with this, Mom. Violet is the only woman I want, and I’ll wait for her as long as it takes. And if she never loves me back or can’t move on from her trauma, then I’ll be single. That’s how it is.”
“Unacceptable.” She lifts her chin and rises from her chair. “I won’t have my son be mired in misery for the rest of his life. I will have grandchildren.” With that proclamation, she stomps out.
I give my head a little shake before returning to work. There’s not really much Mom can do. It took only one meeting to fall ass over head for Violet. Even if I could move on, I wouldn’t want to. Loving her has given me purpose in my life, and it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love me back. That we exist together at the same time in the same universe is enough for me.
Chapter Two
Violet
I slam my hand down on the counter harder than I mean to. My palm starts to sting instantly. I’m madder at myself than I am at the delivery company. I hate this. I’m trapped behind these walls in a beautiful prison I’ve made for myself. But no matter how many times I try to get out of it, my mind and the fear I feel won’t let me.
Adam has a release date. He’ll be free all too soon. As for me, I can’t fathom when I will ever be. I’m stuck. My life is in limbo. The hardest part of this all is Turner. I try to keep him at arm’s length but he’s been pushing more on me lately.
He’s been my head of security since the day he saved me. It wasn't the cops who found me. It was him. Now my brother insists on Turner handling all the security. It’s bittersweet to get to see him every now and then, but it hurts too, knowing I’ll never get to have any sort of future with him; I wouldn’t burden anyone with the mental baggage I currently c
arry.
“Hey.” I gasp, startled. I spin around to see Eden standing there, her hands lifted. “Sorry.” She gives me an apologetic smile.
“Nothing to be sorry for. You shouldn't have to announce yourself when you walk into the kitchen.” I hate that everyone always has to tiptoe around me.
“What’s wrong?” My brother’s fiancée Eden grabs a cup from out of the cabinet. She and her brother moved in here last week. My brother was head over heels for Eden from the moment he laid eyes on her. Eden never stood a chance. He set out to make her his as soon as possible, and now here she is. I enjoy having her and Ryan around. It makes me feel less alone.
All of us live in this giant house. I stick to the pool house most of the time. This place is gigantic. There is room for another twenty people if we wanted. It’s a family home. It’s meant for entertaining. It’s been years since we’ve done anything like that. The idea of letting a bunch of people inside my prison makes me want to throw up.
“I wanted to show you the box mockups I had done. They all can fit the Styrofoam insert with dry ice packs as well.”
“You’re really thinking of everything.”
She puts her cup under the coffee machine. Her nose scrunches as she tries to figure the thing out. I walk over and hit a few buttons to get it going for her. “I thought tech savvy homes were supposed to be helpful and make life easier.” I snort a laugh.
“I should have them tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eden asks, leaning up against the counter. My heart drops. This new project has been keeping me busy. It’s helped keep my mind off of everything else. Turner included.
“I do unless you want to do it yourself.” Eden had a bakery that went up in flames. They made killer desserts. I suggested setting up an online bakery when she said she wasn't sure if she wanted to open another shop. One thing led to another, and the idea bloomed into reality.
“No. I do,” she rushes to say. “I’m excited, but I feel like you’re doing everything, and I don’t want you to think you have to do this because I’m marrying your brother.”
“Violet doesn't do anything she doesn’t want to,” my brother Miles says as he strolls into the room.
He’s older than me by five stupid minutes. He makes sure to bring that up anytime he tries to pull rank. I turn my head when he starts to kiss Eden. Not only because I don’t want to see my brother make out with anyone, but their love has been a bit of a fairy tale. It makes me crave things I can’t have. Thoughts of Turner try to creep to the front of my mind, but I push them back.
“This is true. Besides. I’m the business side. I might be the busy one now, but soon it’s going to be you and Ryan.” A smile lights up her face, making me relax. Miles grabs Eden’s coffee, making it how she likes before handing it to her. Even that is annoyingly sweet.
“Well, I loved the website mockup. It’s beautiful. That logo is eye-catching and adorable.”
“Violet double majored in college. Marketing and business. Always trying to show me up to Mom. I get one degree and she goes and gets two.”
“I can’t help it if I’m the smarter, prettier twin,” I say smugly. “Our target is women. Packaging and branding are more important than you think. More so if people will be buying these to send as gifts.”
“So true,” Eden agrees.
“How about less bakery talk and more wedding talk?” Eden and I both groan loudly. My brother, being his sweet self, brought this wedding to me. Last week a lady showed up with a truck load of both wedding dresses and bridesmaid dresses for Eden and me. He’s turned one of the living rooms into a showroom. At least that’s what it looks like. I give him a hard time, but he has moved heaven and earth for me. I will be forever grateful to him.
“That’s Mom’s area. She’s made for this kind of thing.” Now Miles groans because he knows I’m right, but she will also take over his life until the wedding.
“Violet. Turner is here to see you,” Nora alerts me from the doorway. She keeps this place stunning. It takes a whole freaking team. She’s sweet as can be until she’s not. Inside her lurks a drill sergeant that can pop out at any moment.
“Why?” I ask. I stand in place. There’s a part of me that wants to rush to the front door. The other part is telling me to flee back to my place. To hide away from whatever it is that he makes me feel.
“Why don’t you go ask him? The boy might look intimidating, but I don’t think he bites.” I want to laugh at her calling him a boy. Because he looks nothing short of a man.
Nora is right, though. Turner is intimidating to most people. He always towers over everyone in a room. He isn’t only tall but built too. Miles told me he was a Marine before he went into private security. He’s still built like one. I’d know because I’ve stared at every hard line of his body.
“He might bite if Violet asked him to.” My brother's comment is followed by a grunt, Eden nailing him with her elbow in his side.
Yes, I think he would. Turner has made it very clear that he wants me. I keep thinking he’ll lose interest at some point. Find some other woman to sweep off her feet. My chest aches thinking about that day. When will my tormenter stop taking from me? He still haunts me. No matter how hard I try to forget, the memory of what happened is still fresh in my mind.
“I’ll be back.” I know I’m not getting out of this. None of them are going to save me. My heart starts to race the closer I get to the entryway. When I turn the corner, I see him standing there, his eyes roaming all over me. My body heats at his perusal, wishing I had the courage to take a chance.
“Thought you might want these.” He motions to the boxes.
“You got them?” I rush over toward him.
“One day you’ll rush over for me and not boxes.” I ignore his comment, but my cheeks heat on their own accord.
“You didn’t have to do this, Sebastian.” A small smile pulls at his lips at me using his real name. A dimple I’ve never seen before appears, softening his face. Most call him by his last name, Turner, and a few call him Bach. He always corrects me if I call him anything else besides Sebastian. He doesn't do it to anyone else.
“I’d do anything for you, Violet. Especially when it makes you smile.” I lick my suddenly dry lips, finding myself moving closer to him. His eyes drop to my mouth.
“We can’t do this.” I place my hand on his chest, my actions the opposite of my words. Would one kiss really hurt? I could savor it. I’d finally know what he tastes like, instead of only imagining it.
“We can do anything you want, sweetheart.” He leans down slowly, making his intentions clear. He gives me time to pull away, but I don’t. I let my eyes fall closed, tilting my head back.
One kiss. That’s all we’ll ever have.
Chapter Three
Sebastian
I slip my hands up her back and hold her in place, not too tight so she feels suffocated and not too loose that she thinks I’m done. The problem is I’m never going to be done, and she never wants more. It’s a damned dilemma, and despite what I told my mother, I do long for more. Is that unreasonable? I want to take her to my home, make some babies, wake up to her pretty face, eat breakfast with her at my table. The simple pleasures that most people take for granted aren’t in the cards for me, but would I give this up to have the other with some other woman? No way.
I angle my head to make the kiss deeper, trying to tell her without words that I will protect her with everything I’ve got for the rest of my life. It must be too much for her because she breaks away, twisting her face and then pushing lightly out of my arms. I let her go, and my hands dangle uselessly at my side.
“Sorry about that. Thanks for bringing everything over.” She gives me a fake smile and pats the boxes. “These are the mockups of our packaging supplies. We really can’t start selling anything until our shipping issues get worked out.”
“It’s not a problem, Violet. Why don’t I help you put things together?” I reach inside my
pocket for my blade. She inhales sharply at the sight of it.
“Just cutting the packing tape,” I explain.
“Gosh, I know. It just caught me off guard. Most people use a razor blade or a letter opener. Actually I bought this pair of scissors off of the internet that have a little cutting blade on top.” She jerks open a desk drawer a little too hard, and the contents dump on the floor. “Oh crap.”
We both kneel down to scoop everything up and almost crack our noggins together. She’s nervous for some reason.
“What’s wrong, Violet?”
“Huh? Other than the fact I spilled everything? My God, how long has this pack of gum been in here? The stuff feels like a rock. And hand warmers? It’s not like I need those.” An empty laugh fills the air.
I cover her hand with mine. “Let me clean this up while you use your fancy scissors to open the boxes.”
“Good idea.” She pushes to her feet and lets me stuff the things back into the drawer. The gum should be tossed out, but hand warmers can be used later. There’s an assortment of pens, hair ties, a comb, two charging cords, an empty notebook, some screws, and six bullets. I lay the bullets in my palm and roll them along with my thumb. “You got something to put these in?” I show the copper heads to Violet.
She makes a face and points to the other drawer on the long thin table. “I read a safety manual that said you should put the gun and the bullets in separate compartments. Don’t worry; the desk drawer is locked. The key is underneath.”