In His Hands

Kimmy’s POV

The floor beneath my feet felt like it tilted.

I stared down at the glowing screen, my pulse hammering so violently in my ears that it drowned out the hum of the air conditioner.

Unknown: You looked so gorgeous at dinner tonight, Ma Petite. I see you've found a handsome distraction... but he won't save you from me.

My throat locked up. A wave of ice water surged through my veins, washing away every drop of safety I had felt just five minutes ago.

He was there. At the restaurant.

While I was sitting in that dim booth, enjoying a glass of wine, laughing with Beau, and convincing myself I had finally escaped... the stalker was somewhere in the shadows of that bistro. Staring at me. Watching the way I tucked my hair behind my ear. Watching Beau smile at me.

I rushed to the floor-to-ceiling windows, my hands shaking so violently I could barely grab the edge of the heavy velvet curtains. I yanked them shut with a harsh swoosh, plunging the expansive living room into darkness.

I backed away until my spine hit the cold plaster of the kitchen island.

He followed me here.

No, it was worse than that. He knew where I lived. He knew my routine. He knew I was with Beau.

I sank down onto the floor, pulling my knees tight against my chest, staring at the front door as if someone were about to kick it open. The silence of the apartment—the same silence that had felt peaceful an hour ago—now felt suffocating. Like a trap waiting to spring.

I didn't sleep a single minute that night.

Every tiny creak of the floorboards sent a jolt through my nervous system. Every shadow cast by the city streetlights felt like a figure crouching in the dark. By the time the gray light of dawn broke through the edges of the curtains, my head was throbbing, and my eyes burned with exhaustion.

I couldn't stay trapped in this room. I needed air. I needed to see daylight and prove to myself that the world was still normal.

At 8:00 AM, I threw on an oversized trench coat over my clothes, grabbed my camera bag out of habit, and unlocked my front door.

I pulled the heavy door open and stepped out into the quiet, carpeted hallway.

Click.

The door to Unit 804 opened at the exact same second.

I flinched, stepping back, my hand dropping instinctively into my coat pocket.

Beau stepped into the corridor, looking effortlessly stunning. He wore a crisp white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, a dark charcoal coat draped over one broad shoulder, and his dark hair slightly messied in a way that looked dangerously handsome.

The moment his dark eyes landed on my face, his warm smile vanished. His brows drew together in instant concern.

"Kimmy?" His deep baritone voice echoed softly in the quiet hallway. He took two swift, long strides toward me, bridging the distance between us in seconds. "What's wrong? You look pale as a sheet."

Just seeing him standing there—solid, commanding, and real—made something in my chest snap. The weight of the entire night came crashing down on me.

"He was there," I whispered, my voice raspy and trembling.

Beau stopped right in front of me. His posture shifted instantly, every line of his body going rigid, an intense, lethal focus entering his dark eyes.

"Who was where?" he asked softly, stepping into my personal space. The warm scent of cedarwood and expensive cologne wrapped around me like a shield.

"The... the stalker," I rasped, holding up my phone with a hand that wouldn't stop shaking. "He sent me a text right after I got back to my apartment last night. He saw us, Beau. He saw us having dinner downstairs."

Beau took the phone from my hand. I watched his face as his eyes scanned the text message on the screen.

For a fraction of a second, his jaw tightened so hard I heard the faint grind of his teeth, and a dark, terrifying aura flickered in his eyes—something cold, dominant, and deeply unhinged. It was gone so quickly I thought my tired mind was playing tricks on me.

When he looked back up at me, his expression was completely soft, filled with gentle, fierce protection.

Beau stepped even closer, his tall, powerful frame blocking out the cold hallway and effectively cutting off the rest of the world. He didn't just take my hand—he raised it, brushing his lips softly against my knuckles in a slow, lingering gesture that sent a sudden jolt straight down my spine.

"He thinks he can threaten what’s mine?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register before he caught himself and softened his smile. "I mean... someone in my building. Don't worry, Kimmy. I won't let anyone touch you."

"Beau, I don't want to drag you into this," I stammered, my heart hammering for a completely different reason as his thumb traced a soothing circle over my skin. "The text said—"

"I don't care what some pathetic coward writes in a text message," he cut me off softly, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath lock in my throat. "He's wrong if he thinks he can scare you away. You're not alone in this anymore."

A sudden wave of warmth flooded my chest. Looking at him—this powerful, protective man standing between me and the nightmare—I felt a strange, intoxicating pull. For the first time in a month, the crushing terror in my lungs eased just a little.

"Thank you," I breathed out, squeezing his hand back.

"Come on," Beau murmured, a faint, disarming smile returning to his lips as he gently guided me toward the elevator. "I'm walking you to your car. And today, you're not going anywhere by yourself."

As the heavy elevator doors slid shut, sealing us inside the quiet cab, I leaned slightly closer to his side, letting his shadow swallow mine. I felt safe. I felt protected.

I had no idea that the monster I was hiding from was the same man currently tracing my pulse with his thumb.