The car door opened, and a large, black boot planted itself on the driveway. A second later, the biggest man you'd ever seen unfolded himself from the front seat.

Six-foot-five, clearly muscled, grey eyes, black hair, legs long enough to eat up the distance between you two in three strides. If you hadn't been watching him, you wouldn't have noticed him moving towards you.

He stopped in front of you. "Rhys Larsen." His deep, gravelly voice rolled over you like a velvety caress. A hint of a tattoo peeked out from both sleeves of his shirt. "You have to move." He inclines his chin to your house, his expression betraying nothing.