She turned around to face Trever. “I can’t leave Texas.”

“The fuck you can’t.” He now stood near the window, his back still to her. “You’re in danger here.”

“Don’t you think I realize that?” Her voice rose, which was better than giving in to the tears she wanted to shed. How had everything worked out like this? It was supposed to be a simple run to the store, then Anthony threw everything away and dragged her down with him.

“No, I don’t.” Trever turned back to look at her, his hand gesturing toward the door. “Otherwise you’d have been more careful. What the hell were you thinking, not even bothering to put the latch on the door? Are you hoping they catch you?”

“I…I…didn’t think…” she stammered, knowing she had messed up. If Trever had gotten in without her hearing a sound, anyone could have. Someone else could have been waiting for her when she exited the shower completely unaware.

“You’re right, you didn’t think, and you could have gotten yourself killed.”

He stood there unmoving as if she went through this type of shit all the time. She was out of her element and she knew it. It was why she’d called Brier.

“You’re the fucking SEAL, not me,” she spat. “It’s not like I run for my life every other day. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!” She sank down onto the bed again and stared at the floor. “Maybe I shouldn’t have run. If I’d stayed I—”

“You’d be dead,” He finished for her. He came around the bed to stand in front of her. “A drug deal? Damn it, Allie, are you hooked on that shit?”

“What?” She looked at him, blinking as she tried to adjust to the sudden swing in the conversation.

“If you’re messed up on that shit I need to know. I can’t have you strung out. In order to get you out of here I need you with a clear head.”

“I thought you knew me better than that, Trever. I don’t do drugs.” Tired of her emotions pulling her in two different directions she forced herself to look away from him and let her gaze fall onto the duffel bag that held everything she now owned, which wasn’t much. “Just get out. I don’t need your help.”

“I think you do.”

“You left me…” The words were out before she could stop them. That simple statement was the root of the newest turmoil inside her and was the one reason she was rejecting his help, though she hadn’t meant to verbalize it. She didn’t want him to know that she still missed him.

“That’s not what this is about.”