When I came to, I was cold. A hand slid over my shoulder, and I bucked, horrifying thoughts of what the stranger must have done to me swirling through my mind. I had to get away! I elbowed aimlessly and tried to get up, unsure of my surroundings. But a strong arm wrapped around me, and I relaxed at the voice in my ear.

 

“Calm down, baby. You’re fine. I’m here,” he whispered, warm breath dancing on my neck.

 

My body went limp, and I would have drifted back to sleep if not for the wave of nausea that came over me. I stood automatically and reached to grab something. I needed to get to a bathroom, fast.

 

“Shh, you’re fine! It’s me,” Dawson tried to comfort me again, but I shook my head.

 

I couldn’t speak, or I might get sick in front of him. My vision cleared, and I saw I was in his bedroom. I fell on the bed and rose again, unsteady, and headed for the bathroom. He tried to follow, but I pushed him out and closed the door. The minutes felt like hours as I worked to make myself presentable, and I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes. He must be disgusted!

 

I stepped out of the room with my eyes on the ground. I didn’t dare look at him. I started to apologize, but he grabbed me by the shoulders. “Baby, are you okay? Should I get you to the hospital?”

 

I lifted my gaze to his, confused. “What? No, I’m fine. Maybe a mild concussion. Did I hit my head?”

 

He shook his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

I nodded, and he walked me back to the bed. I waited for details under his warm, enveloping gaze, and I relaxed once again with a hesitant smile. “What happened?” I asked.

 

“You fainted baby. Just as…uh, the guy was leaving. Are you sure you’re all right?” I nodded again, despite a wave of dizziness. I leaned against the headboard, trying to get control, and I thought of Ginger. “Oh, God, is she all right?” I exclaimed, jumping off the bed and dashing through the door. I stopped in the doorframe to her room, only then remembering she was at a sleepover. I turned to find Dawson watching me with heavy concern. “I forgot she wasn’t home,” I mumbled, waving it off and starting for the kitchen.

 

He was on my heels. “Maybe you should lie down a bit longer.”

 

I shook my head. “I just need some tea.” Before I got the sentence out, he was heating the water. “Make it with lemon.” I smiled sheepishly and he smiled back, pulling his head out of the cupboard.

 

I felt suddenly tired but didn’t want to sit down. I went to the window. Outside, the night was dark, but the rain had stopped. I opened the window, welcoming the cold, fresh air, breathing in a lungful. Another wave of nausea struck, but I suppressed it. Focused on not getting sick in his kitchen, I didn’t notice Dawson’s approach until he circled me and pulled me tight to his chest. It made me smile, and I leaned into him, my uneasiness already slipping away.

 

He gently kissed my neck, and I giggled, and if it weren’t for my dire need of a cup of tea, I would’ve taken him back to the bedroom. I turned into his arms and kissed his lips, the kettle whistling its job done. He pulled away and took my hand. I let him guide me to the table and sit me down, and I watched him prepare our drinks in matching mugs.

 

I circled mine with both hands, the warmth helping against the bite of the chilly draft from outside. Dawson gestured to the window, and I nodded. He rose to close it. Looking down into my mug, my thoughts drifted to Ginger again. I wondered how she was, questioned if she was better off away from here. But then, I felt guilty for such a thought. I had to do something, so I cleared my throat and asked, “These guys, the Valves, seem really bad.” He glanced up with a frown, and I went on, “Violent, I mean. Like this guy, he tried to assault me.”

 

“Yeah, they’re a vile bunch. I’m sorry, baby. Really sorry for that.” I waited for more, watching him and knowing there was more on his mind. I knew he would tell me if given enough space. “Why do you think I want to sever ties? I don’t like this life anymore.”

 

I raised a brow. “Anymore?”

 

He sighed and rubbed his brow. “I haven’t liked it for a while, baby, a long while.” A shadow washed over his face, like he tried to keep bad memories at bay. I wanted to comfort him so badly, but I knew that would put an end to any discussion. I just sat there, watching and trying to give him a look of acceptance. He had to get things off his chest, and I wasn’t going to let him harbor any of those things anymore. But I wouldn’t push. He hedged, “I really am trying to get out. I promise, it’s just that it’s hard. It’s not a simple get up and leave situation. I’ve considered all the possibilities, and I have to make sure I don’t step on any toes. Do you understand?”

 

I nodded. Something started to take shape in my mind, and I didn’t like the prospect. “What about Ginger?” I asked quietly, focusing on the blue mug in front of me.

 

“What about her?”

 

“I don’t mean to be offensive, but if they’re so aggressive for no reason at all, I can’t bear to imagine what they’d do if they found out your intentions. And Ginger…” I trailed off.

 

“Don’t go there, baby. I take care of my family.”

 

“I don’t want to. And I didn’t mean you aren’t capable, but you have to see beyond to the what-ifs. I can’t…” Finish. I cut off and blinked back tears. He rose and came to me.

 

“Baby, I promise I will never let anything happen to her. Or you. I swear on my life. I swear to God.”

 

I couldn’t look at him. I felt what I was about to say would seem like betrayal. “What about her mother?”

 

With a slight pause, he stiffened, his demeanor changing. “What about her?”

 

He was growing defensive, not a good sign. It meant he had something to hide, something terrible. I cleared my throat again, unsure of how to proceed. “Maybe she should take Ginger for a while. You know, until you clear things up. Where is she?”

 

“Ginger doesn’t have a mother,” he snapped. “She doesn’t know her, and she can’t leave here. I told you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my daughter.”

 

Seeing him this way stabbed through my heart. My words must have stirred some painful memories. I rose and reached for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. I didn’t know.” He let me hug him, but he tensed in my arms. I pulled back, my hands still on his shoulders. “What happened? Did she leave Ginger?”

 

His eyes flinched with pain, and my mouth went dry.

 

I didn’t know how to make it right. “I’m so sorry. I’m stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. I had no idea. Please, forgive what I said.” I hadn’t breached the subject before, and I didn’t know anything about Ginger’s mother. Now, I couldn’t imagine a worse situation. She could be dead, and here I was, yapping about her leaving her child. I dared a glance at him and saw how, with each word I spoke, his expression grew darker. I shut up. I’d hit the nail on the head, but that nail went straight into Dawson’s heart.

 

“It’s not your fault,” he started, bending over the kitchen sink.

 

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I made you feel bad…”

 

“It’s not your fault,” he repeated with a hint of guilt, and I couldn’t understand that.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked, certain that it was all my fault for making him remember.

 

“It’s not your fault. It’s…mine.”

 

I didn’t get it. “What?”

 

He shook his head. “Ginger doesn’t have a mother.”

 

“You said that. I’m sorry.” I grew a bit frantic.

 

“You don’t understand. She doesn’t have a mother. She doesn’t have a father, either.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Of course she had a father. He stood in front of me. What was Dawson going through?

 

He made a choking sound, and guilt emanated from him, the same guilt as when he’d confessed his dreadful past to me. My knees weakened as I tried not to think the worst. I reached for a chair and dropped into it, my mind blurring against coherent thought. Probably a protective measure, but Dawson broke through, giving me the worst, as I’d expected. “I’m not her father. I don’t know anything about her mother, except she never met her. But her father…I knew him.”

 

An icy silence settled over us, creating a chilled atmosphere that slowed my heartbeat. He cleared his throat, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was harsh and raspy, like sandpaper. “He’s the reason the Valves don’t kill anymore.”

 

Bile rose in my throat, the urge to leave filling every fiber of my being. I stood, and I spoke without my brain’s permission. “I’ll take Ginger. She can’t stay here with you anymore.”

 

“What are you saying?” His voice pleaded with panic, but I didn’t give in.

 

I stepped back. “I can’t stand the thought of her being in danger. I’m taking her with me, and that’s the end of it!” He reached for my hand, but I pulled back farther, aiming for the door and barely able to hold back tears.

 

“Mari, think about your job! I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to protect her. Both of you. You’re my life now, too.”

 

I swallowed hard, determined. “No, Dawson. Until you’re done with the Valves, I’m taking Ginger. She’s not safe here, around you. To hell with my job. She’s more important.” The next words hurt but I had to say them. With my hand on the door, I said, “I’ll call Child Protective Services in the morning, and I’ll take her, Dawson.” I chanced a glance back at him and saw his eyes widen. I didn’t want to hurt him, so I clarified, as best I could, “I won’t tell them about you. I just…intend to let them know Ginger will be relocating and needs a change of guardianship. I…” Couldn’t go on, seeing the pain in his eyes. I wanted to look down, but he came toward me, and I shook my head. “Don’t Dawson. I can’t…”

 

I left, running to my house and slamming the door behind me. My vision blurred with heavy tears as the thud of the door sounded in my heart like an omen, shutting the door on a major part of my life.