“Grier?”

He heard a distant reply and took the rear stairs two at a time. When he got to her room, he stopped in the doorway. Or skidded to a halt was more like it.

“No.” He shook his head at her rich girl’s flavor of Samsonite: That monogrammed luggage was so not going anywhere. “Absolutely not.”

She glanced over from the nearly filled suitcase. “I’m not staying here.”

“Yeah, you are.”

She pointed her forefinger at him like the thing was a gun. “I don’t do well with people trying to order me around.”

“I’m trying to save your life. And staying here where you’re known and visible to a lot of people, where you have a job that you’ll be missed at and appointments to keep and a security system like the one in this house is the way to stay alive. Going off to anywhere else just makes it easier for them.”

Turning away, she pushed at the clothes she’d packed, her slender body bowing as she leaned into the shoving and made more room. Then she picked up a sweater and folded it in half and then in quarters.

As he watched how her hands shook, he knew he would do anything to save her. Even if it meant condemning himself.

“What did you say to my father?” she demanded.

“Not much. I don’t trust him. No offense.”

“I don’t trust him, either.”

“You should.”

“How can you say that? God . . . the things he’s kept from me—the things he’s done . . . I can’t . . .”

She began to tear up, but it was clear she didn’t want the old haven-in-strong-arms routine from him: She cursed and marched into the bathroom.

Dimly, he heard her blow her nose and run some water. While she was in there, his hand went into his windbreaker’s pocket and he palmed up the Life Alert. Death Alert was more like it: Help, I haven’t fallen and I’m standing up—can you come and rectify this problem?

Grier remerged. “I’m leaving here with or without you. It’s your choice.”

“It’s going to be without me, I’m afraid.” He took his hand out.

She froze when she saw the device. “What are you doing with that?”

“I’m ending this. For you. Right now.”

“No!”

He pressed the summons as she lunged for him, sealing his fate—and saving her—with a one-touch.

A little red light on the device started blinking.

“Oh, God . . . what have you done?” she whispered. “What have you done?”

“You’re going to be fine.” His eyes traced her face, memorizing yet again what was already etched into his mind forever. “That’s all that matters to me.”