Comfortable? The man had to be joking. One thing she could honestly say, with the steam roasting her from inside out, she was far from comfortable.

He picked her up again, effortlessly carrying her gangly body upstairs, and as nice as a bed sounded, she was about to burst. Just come right out of her skin. She reached down, cupped his crotch where his monster erection waited for her.

All mine.

He halted mid-step, grabbed onto the handrail and tipped his head back, moaning as she stroked him through his jeans.

“Jesus, Micki. Are you trying to kill us?”

“If it gets you inside me, yes.”

He let out a little moan and his face melded into a strained look of concentration. She rocked her hips, loving the feel of all that hardness, imagined him sliding into her, making her feel what she’d felt the other night.

The connection. The acceptance. He knew her secrets. A lot of them anyway, and he still wanted her.

“If you’re going to be stubborn,” she said, “get moving. Otherwise, I want you to screw me right on these steps.”

He met her gaze, those blue eyes scalding hot as he trudged up the last few stairs. “Not on the steps. But I’ll touch you everywhere, find every spot that makes you come apart. You know that, right?”

Every spot? Even she didn’t know all of them. There’d never been a man around long enough, who cared enough, to take the time to discover them.

“Captain America,” she said, “I would welcome that.”

He kicked the bedroom door open, took four steps and tossed her on the bed. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

He ditched his shoes then pulled his shirt off, exposing all the yumminess underneath. The coiled muscle of his arms, the cut of his abs and chest. The blond hair that ran in a line down the center and dipped below his waistband. Micki licked her lips and he watched the motion, the slow slide of her tongue.

“Dream on. I will never beg you to stop. Never.”

She sat up, kicking off her shoes while unzipping his jeans and sliding them and his boxers down, down, down. Hello. His erection, every giant, fabulous inch of it, sprang free and her breasts tingled, anticipating that moment when he’d be inside her.

While he stepped out of his pants, he yanked on her zipper. The two of them wiggled her free and all of a sudden, in a frenzy of activity, she was peeling off her shirt as he dug through his nightstand. Hopefully for a condom. Or many condoms.

He lifted a box out—yay—and set it on the table.

“Let me,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“It’s a fantasy. Some people want to swing from chandeliers. Me…” She shrugged, half embarrassed by the admission.

He handed over the condom. “Have at it. It’ll be a first for both of us.”

At that, she smiled, plucked the foil packet from him and tore it open. The second her fingers touched him, he sucked in a breath, but she continued on, drawing the rubber over him, taking care not to rip it.

“Jeez, Micki. Way too slow.”

Not bothering to hide her silly grin, she looked up at him. “I’m so crazy about you. Around you, I’m…special.”

Condom on him, she let go and lay back on the bed, drawing one leg up and holding her arms out, opening herself to him as he lowered on top of her. He propped himself on his elbows and kissed her, a gentle brush of his lips as she wrapped herself around him, pulling him closer.

“Open your eyes.”

She looked up at him, met his gaze and held it, took in his smile and the lightness she saw in his eyes. Then he did it, just slid into her with one hard thrust, and she cried out, loving the feel of him pushed so far inside her. She opened her legs wider, rocking her hips and guiding him deeper.

Please.

She’d never get enough. Never.

He pulled out and she locked her legs around him, waiting for him to enter her again. And again, and again.

I want him.

Always. She clamped her hands on his ass, held him in place and ground her hips, giving as good as she got.

“You are wicked,” he said.

“I want you to lose control. I want to see it.”

“Keep that up and it won’t be a problem.”

She let out a laugh, enjoying the playful, unfiltered moment, and he pushed deeper inside her and—oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow.

She reached behind her head, gripped the pillow as she rocked her hips, and her body morphed into a coiling rope of tension. He picked up the pace, perfectly reading her signals.

“Here it comes,” she said. “Please. Oh, please.”

She wanted this. Wanted to feel that rush, that insane moment when she let her world blow apart like she never had before.

Finally, she closed her eyes, let the light show take hold as the tension built. Higher and higher she went, and Gage thrust and pulled back and thrust again and she cried out, a low guttural sound as the orgasm ripped her apart. The release came fast. A massive rush—too damned fast—that left her skin buzzing.

She slowed her breathing, forcing her body to relax and extend the euphoria.

Not done yet.

She reared up, rolling him to his back, intent on giving him the same insanity he’d treated her to.

He gripped her hips, guiding her along, showing her the pace he wanted. He flattened his hands against her breasts, then squeezed her hyper-sensitive nipples and she knew, before this was over, she’d come again.

She leaned forward, still using the motion he wanted, and kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth. His fingers locked onto her hips, digging into her flesh as he moaned.

He tore his lips away, lifted his hands to her face, his eyes on her as his own release hit him. He bucked under her, driving, driving, driving, one last time, howling her name before he collapsed under her.

“Is it cliché to say I’m starved?”

Micki grinned up at Gage, burrowed further into his side, and eased her leg over his. If she could stay like this, happy and content over a simple thing like spending time with a man, she’d do it. Just stay in bed, with Gage, forever.

When she didn’t answer, he lifted his head. “Micki? Everything okay down there?”

“Everything is great.” She snuggled closer. “Sorry. I was daydreaming. I’m hungry, too.”

“Eat out? Or in?”

“In.” She looked up at him, ran her hand over his chest, twirling her fingers in the fine blond hairs. “Could we watch a movie? For ten years I’ve watched movies alone. Now I’d like to try doing it with you.”

Another new experience she’d enjoy with Gage.

He kissed the top of her head and rolled sideways. “Good plan. I have menus downstairs. We’ll order and see what’s what on cable.”

Cable.

A memory of last Christmas at Phil’s house popped into her mind. His kids had been teasing him about his tendency to call Netflix cable. For whatever reason, he couldn’t grasp the concept of Netflix. Silly memories. The good ones she’d hopefully remember by the time this was all over.

Cable.

Naked as a newborn, she sat up.

Cable. The e-mail from Phil. Whoa. She tossed the sheet back, jumped out of bed.

Gage kept his eyes on her as she whipped her clothes off the floor, gathering up her underwear, searching for her bra, then giving up and just shoving her arms into the first shirt she grabbed. Gage’s.

He followed her out the door as she ran for the stairs. “What’s up?”

“I need my laptop.”

“Okay. That, I’ve never heard from a woman after sex.”

“The e-mail Phil sent me the other day, the one with the video, it came from his personal account.”

“And?”

“His personal account is through his cable company. The number one cable company in Nevada.”

“Alrighty. I have no idea why that should be so exciting.”

Her brain racing, she reached the stairs and inhaled, forcing herself to settle down. The fresh scent of her mother’s detergent registered. “Tell me my mother does your laundry.”

“Hell no. I just like the smell of her soap so I use it.”

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “Would that be a deal breaker?”

“I don’t know.” She flapped her arms and hopped off the last step. “I've never been interested in a man my mother does laundry for.”

“Micki, what’s up with this e-mail from Phil?”

“It’s not the e-mail itself, but the cable company. There’s a lot of information that can be garnered about people. Particularly if that company handles the phone lines.”

“You hacked the cable company?”

“I’m not proud of it, but think about it. Porn rentals, online activity, phone calls to mistresses. It’s a gold mine for a guy like Phil.”

She snagged her backpack from the floor. “Phil likes to e-mail himself files. He hates dealing with thumb drives. If I know him at all, I’d bet he had someone e-mail him a zip file with the video of Jonah leaving the room the night of the rape. He probably edited it down so he could send it to me in clumps.”

“You think you can retrieve the full video?”

“Hoping so. Combine that with Tessa telling the DA or the US Attorney or whoever the hell would handle the rape case that Jonah helped her, and we can clear him.”

“It’ll destroy Flynn’s leverage.”

Micki dug her laptop from her backpack, set it on her mother’s old coffee table, and parked her butt on the couch. “Yep.”

“It’ll also piss him off. You ready for that?”

No one could ever be ready for that. “Do I have a choice?”

Assuming it to be a rhetorical question, Gage let it linger, but sat down beside her. After dealing with a pesky password issue, she logged into the cable company’s server and went to work. Within minutes, she brought up Phil’s e-mail account. First things first. She clicked on the tiny gear at the upper right.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing his password.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. And he’ll know it was me. For once, he’ll know I had the upper hand. It might be silly, but there you go.”

“It’s not. I get that. He’s a big bear to poke, though, when you could be in and out without being detected.”

No more hiding. No more secrets. She was done with all that, and him knowing she’d been in his account, that she was no longer afraid to defy him, would solidify it. She stopped typing and looked over at Gage. “Tomorrow morning I’m calling my lawyer to tell him I want to be Queen for a Day. I’d say the bear will get poked anyway. Will you go with me? To the US Attorney? They probably won’t let you sit in, but—”

“Absolutely. I can wait outside.”

He’s so good. And he wanted to support her. Despite everything he knew, he saw the real Micki, the good Micki, buried beneath the rubble. I could really get used to him. “Thank you.”

After changing the password, she clicked back to the inbox where Phil’s e-mails flashed in order of the date received. She scrolled, skimming the ones from the past week. His sister with an invitation to his niece's birthday in a couple of weeks.

If things went Micki’s way, Phil would be sitting in a cell by then. Ugh. She couldn’t think about that. About the shock his family would suffer. The loss of him. Not going there. He’d never cared when Micki had suffered that same loss. Back then, he’d seen it as a victory. A conquest. One that separated an eighteen-year-old girl from her loved ones.

Back to business here.

She kept scrolling, skipping the e-mails lacking attachments. She needed that video.

Who knew Phil received so many e-mails in a day? To avoid distraction, she locked her gaze on the right side of the screen stopping at each e-mail with a paper clip icon.

Gage nudged her shoulder. “No luck yet?”

“Not yet.”

Wait. An e-mail from Tomas. With a paper clip. She clicked on the e-mail, found a zipped file. Oh, Tommy. Half sick over her so-called friend’s possible betrayal, she clicked again and the folder downloaded. Another click revealed an MP4 file and her head damn near exploded. A week ago, these men had been her central focus. On some level, she’d trusted them.

Given the things they'd accomplished together, this business of destroying lives, she couldn’t fathom why they even deserved her trust.

So much for loyalty.

The man next to her, though? He was the one deserving of trust. She bumped his shoulder. “I think I found it.”

“Seriously?”

She clicked the file and a black-and-white video of a long hallway with—one, two, three—doors lining it filled the screen. The night of Tessa’s attack, Micki hadn’t gone into that part of the house. She’d mostly stayed in the yard, only venturing into the kitchen once for a refill of her soda. The house had been huge, though. At least ten thousand square feet. At the time, she’d marveled at the wealth.

One of the doors off the hallway opened and a man—a kid really—with short blond hair stepped out, tucking his shirt in, and Micki’s empty stomach rolled.

Behind that door, Tessa was stoned and being violated in the worst way a woman could.

Time stamp: 12:08 AM.

Any minute now, Jonah would be led to that room. The events of that night—the one that obliterated her life—were a constant loop in her brain, each element committed to memory.

Time stamp: 12:10.

As the empty hallway loomed in front of her, the video played and she slouched back, hugging her arms around her torso.

Time stamp: 12:11. And there was Jonah, innocent laughing Jonah, being led around the curve of the hallway by Harrison Shaw. Heartbreak and rage spewed, an instant burst of hatred and horror and agony. That pig. That fucking degenerate, lowlife. That monster. He'd stolen all of their lives. Tessa, Jonah, and Micki. Gone. She wanted to pound on him. Just take her fist and smash it into his skull. Beat him until he bled.

And then she’d line up his friends, every one of them, and pound on them, too. Over and over and over. Let them experience being a victim. Being violated.

For Tessa. For every woman who’d been victimized.

“Sons of bitches.”

Needing to move, to get rid of the energy devouring her, Micki hopped off the couch, pointed at the images.

“This is it.” She jabbed her finger. “Jonah is going to walk into that room. When Harrison—he’s the kid that lives there—leaves, Jonah will come out. To find me. I haven’t seen this part of the video, but Jonah told me what happened. He took Tessa out of that room and brought her to one at the end of the hall. It faced the side of the house where we smuggled her out. I can still see him opening that window. He literally shoved her through and she toppled to the ground. She could barely walk.”

Gage’s gaze stayed fixed on the screen as she paced around him, sometimes moving in circles simply to burn off energy. All the while, sneaking peeks at the screen.

That damned night. Everything changed after that. And behind that door, Tessa was…God…what they were doing to her. What they would have done to her had Jonah not been invited to join in.

She stopped pacing, put her hands over her eyes. “Those animals!” she cried, her voice jagged and rough. “They destroyed us all. That girl had to live with what they did to her!”

Heart slamming, absolutely banging against her chest wall, Micki dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. Block it out.

“I hate them for what they did.”

Gage’s warm hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched. He snatched his hand away, taking the heat with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know better than to put hands on someone without them seeing it coming.”

She dropped her hands and stepped toward him, her body craving his and the comfort she found there. “It’s not you. I’m just…not used to people touching me.”

He folded her in his arms and she rested her forehead against his chest. Exhausted and strung out, she concentrated on leveling her emotions off.

“Are you sure you can watch the rest?”

“I have to see it. Compare it to what I’ve imagined all this time. Those boys should be castrated.”

“Yeah, they should.”

Gage rolled the SUV to a stop in front of Miss Joan’s porch and the outside lamp threw enough light to illuminate the interior of the SUV.

“So,” Micki said, “I’m thinking I won’t kiss you good night, right here.”

“I think that’s probably a good plan. For now. Your brothers aren’t known for their tact, and I’m not sure either one of us is up for an interrogation about what’s going on with us.”

“Reid and Jonah know something’s up. And Evie promised to keep it to herself. I think she likes having sisterly secrets.” Britt and Grif she wasn’t sure about.

“I think if Britt suspected, he’d come to me.”

Micki smiled. “Oh, yeah. He’d give you the what-are-your-intentions speech.”

“And won’t that be fun?”

Micki yanked on the door handle and slid out of the SUV, dragging her backpack over her shoulder. “Thank you for tonight.”

Across the seat, he met her gaze. “I didn’t exactly suffer through it.”

“Not that! Cripes, men are pigs. I meant talking me through the whole Queen for a Day thing. I needed a level head.” She nudged her chin toward the house. “I’ll tell Jonah I'm cooperating. He said it was my decision, but I’m not sure he liked the idea.”

“He’s probably worried about you.”

She nodded. “I know, but I can’t live with the constant threat of Phil. It’s time to end this.”

So she could get on with her life, settle into her hometown, and connect with her family again. Make some friends and hopefully, if she caught a lucky break, get to know the man in front of her.

At the moment, she didn’t necessarily deserve Gage, but if she could put Vegas behind her, admit her wrongdoing and make amends for it, she might become whole.

Something she hadn’t been since she’d left Steele Ridge.

Gage looked beyond her at the front porch where Jonah stood on the threshold.

“Everything okay?” he called.

“Yep,” Micki said. “All good. I’m coming in now. I need to talk to you.” She turned back to Gage, met his gaze for a long minute. “Goodnight, Mr. All-American. Thank you and I still think you’re amazing.”

“Ditto. Call me when you’re done with Jonah.”

Gladly.

She closed the door and marched up the porch steps, ignoring Jonah’s curious stare. “Don’t ask me about him. I don’t know.”

“Fair enough. Did you decide anything about Flynn?”

She stepped inside, but turned back to watch Gage’s SUV travel down the long drive. Jonah stood, his hand wrapped around the doorframe of her mother’s new house. The place Mom had always told her she’d love to live in one day.

Now she did.

This was Mom’s sanctuary.

Maybe it could be Micki’s, too.

Jonah gently closed the door, then flipped the lock. “Mom’s asleep. We can talk in the kitchen if you want.”

She led the way, snagging a water bottle from the fridge before she sat. Assuming he’d want to see the video, she set her backpack on the table. Jonah took the spot across from her and tapped his fingers. Nervous. Her mind drifted back to the night of the party. The only times she remembered seeing her laid-back brother agitated revolved around that damned party.

Well, she’d fix that.

“I’m calling Owen in the morning and telling him I want the Queen for a Day deal. Once they hear what I have, they’ll want my testimony.”

“Are you sure?”

No. When it came to her boss, anything could happen. The variables were endless. “I’m terrified. For sure. As long as I’ve known Phil, the recent trip to Mexico aside, he’s been able to avoid prison. My putting him there will fester. Every day he sits in that cell will get him angrier. I’ll have to face that when he gets out.”

Jonah shrugged. “He’s in his fifties. If we get lucky, he’ll die in prison.”

“His reach is long, Jonah.” She couldn’t worry about that, though. She let out a sigh. “Still, cooperating is the right thing to do. It’ll get me my life back.”

Her brother leaned forward, rested his hands flat on the table. “I’ll support you. You know that. We all will. We just want you back.”

Pressure built behind her eyes, in her throat, along the backs of her shoulders, and she squeezed her eyes closed. If she started spewing, just unleashed the years of pent-up frustration, it might take all night to get rid of it, and she still had a lot to say to Jonah.

She opened her eyes again. “I want to be back. I’ve always wanted that. I should have come to you sooner. I was scared and then, as time went on, I don’t know, I was so immersed in Phil’s world, I’d lost control of my own life. I gave it all to him. It took all of you to make me see that.”

“Which is exactly why he isolated you. He’s the classic abuser.”

“You’re right. But starting tonight, I’m fighting back. We’re fighting back.”

Together, they'd do this. She dragged her laptop from her backpack, fired it up, and turned it toward Jonah. “This is the entire video of you leaving that room with Tessa.”

His features hardened, his jaw literally popping from the pressure of locking his teeth together.

“How’d you get it?”

“I took a chance that Phil had it, all of it, in his e-mail.”

“You hacked into his e-mail?”

“Yes. And I got what we needed. You weren’t in that room long enough to attack her. Now you can take this and hopefully Tessa’s statement to your lawyer. It should prove you’re innocent.”

Jonah sat back, ran his hands through his hair, and scrunched his face. “Damn. How did one fucking party create such a mess?”

“Because people are evil. We can make it right, though.” She pointed at the laptop. “Do you even want to see it?”

He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t need to. But thank you. You shouldn’t have hacked his e-mails. That could come back on you.”

“If I admit to it while I’m Queen for a Day, it won't.”

Jonah snorted. “Queen for a Day. Unbelievable.”

Micki reached across the table and held her hands out until her brother, her twin, grabbed hold. “We’ve got this,” she said. “You and me. Like always.”

The next morning, Gage rolled out of bed, hopped in the shower, and decided it was a great day to go to work. Even the normal morning headache had given him a reprieve and that fact alone, aside from getting laid in spectacular fashion the night before, sent his energy soaring.

Sex did things—really good things—for his overall existence.

He opened the front door and a burst of sunlight streamed in. The weather guy said to expect unusually high temps today, which worked for him because he needed to jump on one of the four-wheelers and check the progress on various areas of the training center.

On his way up to Tupelo Hill he’d call Micki, see if she wanted to ride along. Maybe pack a picnic lunch. Him, the guy who’d never put much stock into romance, doing a picnic lunch. Go figure.

Plus, he couldn’t picture Micki doing it either, so between the two of them, it could be a stumble into hilarity.

He locked the house up, flipped his key ring on his finger, and headed across the small patch of lawn to the driveway. One day he’d make room for his car in the garage, but for now he was stuck parking outside.

Five yards from the truck, he stopped. Froze in his spot, his gaze fixed on something—an animal—on his hood.

Squirrel? He glanced up at the tree where the branches hooked over the driveway. In the months he’d been here, he’d never had a squirrel fall out of that tree. And the way this one was lying there, it couldn’t be alive.

He moved closer, noticed the long wiry tail, and his head started to pound.

Three strides around the front of the vehicle gave him a clearer view.

Rat.

Son of a bitch.

Ignoring the throb, he scanned the area, searching for anything out of place. The neighbors' garbage cans weren’t in their same order—recyclables, garbage, smaller garbage—but that could have been their son doing his normal half-assed job of stowing them. Half the time the kid left them tipped on their sides.

Gage went back to the rat and stepped closer, studying it. The head and tail were intact, but the lower half was crushed. If, by some chance, the animal had gotten onto his hood on its own, there was no way it could have done it with its body damned near flattened.

Timing being what it was, with Micki talking to a lawyer yesterday and then spending time with him last night, it wasn’t a stretch to figure out how a dead fucking rat wound up on his hood.

Someone—and he knew who—had put it there.

Fucker. Hot, primal anger flashed inside him. If they didn’t deal with Phil Flynn, he’d never leave Micki alone.

Was she safe? He’d watched her go into the house last night. With Jonah. If something had happened, he’d know by now. Wouldn’t he?

Heading back to the house— no sense standing in the driveway making a nice bull’s-eye for someone— he slid his phone from his pocket and propped it between his ear and shoulder as he unlocked the door and slipped back inside.

“Good morning, Captain America. How’s the stud today?”

She’s safe. A surge of relief broke up the tension in his neck. “Hey. Good morning. You okay?”

“I’m great. Actually waiting for my mom. We’re doing some baking this morning. And then maybe a walk around the property. She says I need to get out more and get some sun on my pasty skin. And to think I’ve missed her terribly.”

They were going walking? Alone? “Is Reid there? Or Jonah? Not sure it’s a good idea for you two to be out walking alone.”

Micki snorted. “Lord, not you, too. We’re fine. We won’t leave the property.”

Gage glanced at the dead rat. He'd need a couple pics of it in case they could use it as evidence. “Don’t forget about Phil. Can’t get too comfortable.”

“He won’t try anything on the property. He knows my family is here. And he definitely knows you and Reid were Special Forces.”

The pounding behind his eyes kicked again, and he shoved the thumb and middle finger of his free hand into his eye sockets. “Still. I think you should wait on the walk. If Reid and Jonah aren’t around, I’ll be there shortly. Just…wait. Please.”

He glanced at the rat again. He should tell her. For no other reason than to make sure she stayed put. “I—”

“Hey, Mom,” Micki said.

He heard Miss Joan’s voice in the background and then Jonah’s, and the pounding in his skull backed off, gave him a second to get his thoughts together.

“Let me talk to Jonah,” he said.

“Um, sure. You’re acting strange. Are you okay?”

Great. Now she thought the brain-damaged guy was going off the rails. Nothing like total emasculation for a Green Beret.

“I’m good. I have a few errands to run and then I’ll be up there. I’ll stop and see you.”

And tell you about the dead rat.

“I will look forward to that. Here’s Jonah.”

The line went quiet for a second while she handed it off.

“What’s up?” Jonah said.

“Are you going anywhere this morning?”

“No. I’m locking myself in to go over that budget you left me. Seriously, do we really need that much gunpowder?”

Yes, they did, but he didn’t have time to discuss it now. “Good. Keep an eye on Micki.”

“Why?”

“I just found a dead rat on my truck.”