I walk in the visitor’s entrance of the jail with the loud thud of Marcus’ boots trailing close behind me. He overtakes me quickly and gestures toward the hallway past the chairs in the lobby where a guard stands, waiting for us.

My chest lurches. Lance sits in a chair in the corner. He’s leaning back with his eyes toward the ceiling holding a wad of tissues up to his nose.

“Lance?” I say.

He leans forward, following my voice. “Trix?”

I swing around Marcus. “Are you okay?”

Lance glances over my shoulder as I sit down in the chair next to him. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice muffled behind the tissues.

“Marcus told me Papa attacked you. What happened?”

“Ms. Argento,” Marcus says behind me. “We should—”

“I’m not leaving him like this,” I say, keeping my eyes on Lance. “And I’m not speaking to my father unless he has a damn good reason for this.”

Marcus hesitates for a moment before I hear his boots stomp off down the hall.

Lance smiles behind his tissues. “At least I look better than he does,” he says. “Who’d he finally piss off?”

“My brothers, as a matter of fact.”

“Really?”

“Turns out, far more effective than a restraining order.” I reach for his hand to guide the wad away. “Let me see...”

He lets his hand fall and I gasp at the purple bruise taking over his face and the dried blood stuck along his upper lip.

“It’s fine,” he says.

“No, it’s not fine. Why did he do this?”

Lance looks down. “After this morning, I came out here to try and make a deal. He declined.”

“By slamming your face into a wall?”

“A table,” he says.

“What kind of deal?” I ask.

“I told him to end his protection racket and work together with us to clean up the neighborhoods.” He presses along the edge of his nose, wincing slightly. “In exchange, I’d recommend a reduced sentence to the State’s Attorney.”

I raise a brow. “How reduced?”

“Three years.”

My heart skips. “That’s a really good deal.”

“It’s better than most.”

“And he didn’t take it?”

He taps his nose again. “Clearly not.”

“Why not?”

Lance pauses, his eyes slowly rising to meet mine. “Because I told him,” he says.

I ease back an inch. “Told him what?”

He tilts his head.

“Told him told him?” I repeat. “You told him about...” I point at my stomach.

“No,” he says. “Not that.”

I sigh with relief. “Thank god...”

“No, I told him that I... have feelings for you,” he says.

The panic in my chest subsides a little bit. “You told him you have feelings for me?” I ask, growing warmer.

“I...” he pauses, “might have used some stronger language than that.”

I furrow my brow in confusion. “Like...?”

“I told him I loved you,” he says, swallowing hard. “And that’s why I was giving him the deal.”

My voice breaks. “Because you love me?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

I try to say something more — literally anything — but my throat squeezes closed.

“It wasn’t fair,” he says. “I wasn’t fair to you before and I’m sorry. You told me and I just... It brought back some feelings that I thought I’d buried a long time ago.”

I bite my cheek, suppressing the sudden twist of sadness in me.

“And I couldn’t go through with the case,” he adds. “There will always be another case to set up a bid for State’s Attorney so I—”

I lean over and kiss him, crushing my mouth on his. He kisses me back, holding his breath while I caress his cheek.

I pull away to look him in the eyes as the words build on my tongue. “Lance, I...”

“Trix...” he says.

“Yeah?”

“That really hurt.”

I gasp. “Oh, god. I’m sorry!” I touch my face instead. “Are you okay?”

He laughs, gently pressing along the bridge of his swollen nose again. “I’m sure I’ll live,” he says.

“Do you need ice?” I turn toward the empty front desk behind the glass. “Can we get some ice over here?!”

“I’m okay, Trix,” Lance says.

“Are you sure?”

He lays his hand on mine. “I’m sure,” he says, making me believe him.

We both pause and gaze at each other. I exhale even more of the tension gripping my chest as warmth spreads through my fingers and toes.

“You scared me for a second there,” I say. “Thought I’d have to do this alone.”

Lance entwines our fingers. “You won’t.”

I smile. “Lance, I—”

“Ms. Argento.”

I look over my shoulder at Marcus hovering in the hallway. His eyes fall on our hands but he manages to maintain his new and improved professionalism.

“He wants to talk to you,” he says.

“Go,” Lance says. “I’ll be all right here.”

I squeeze his hand tighter as a sudden burst of anger sparks my senses. “No, you’re coming with me.”

His breath catches. “Are you sure that’s a good—”

I stand up. “Come on,” I say, pulling him out of his chair.

Marcus slides to the side, allowing the two of us to go down the hall ahead of him. Lance picks up his pace to meet mine, his palm going clammy before we reach the large room with tables. My father is nowhere to be found here. Instead, Marcus leads us all the way down to the next hallway to a small holding room.

The room is nearly full already. Gavin and Danny sit on one side of the table in the middle. Jerry hovers over their shoulders, staring down into the dark eyes of my father at the opposite side.

They all fall silent and turn in our direction as I walk in with Lance. My father’s glare instantly turns downward to our entwined hands while I notice that his wrists are bound to the table by handcuffs.

Good. I don’t want him going anywhere until I’m done talking.

I march up to the table and point at his face with my free hand.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” I ask.

He glances over my shoulder at Lance. “Bea,—”

“Assaulting an ASA. Are you insane?!”

Jerry steps closer to me. “Now, Miss Beatrix—”

I target my finger at him and he instantly recoils. “Shut up, Jerry!” I turn back to my father. “Two things are about to happen. First, you are going to apologize to Lance.”

“Like hell I am,” he says. “I’m not saying one more word to the man who stole my daughter from me.”

“Nobody stole me from you, Papa. You abandoned me.”

Gavin speaks up, “Trix—”

I ignore him, raising my voice to talk over his. “You made it very clear what my purpose was to you and to this family. Lance is the only one who stepped up and made me feel like I belonged somewhere.” Tears sting my eyes but I force them away. “He’s a brilliant man and a wonderful father; one that you could stand to learn a thing or two from.”

My father’s silent, wicked sneer rises over my shoulders again toward Lance.

“And second,” I continue, “you are going to take his deal.”

His jaw flexes. “No, I’m not.”

“We are bad people,” I say, letting my eyes wander across their quiet, shocked faces. “This is a fact. But I’ve devoted my life to the belief that we can make a difference in people’s lives, that we can balance the bad we do with good. I want to finally tip the scale over and I’m not the only person in this room who does.”

I stand taller, feeling adrenaline racing through my toes.

“You will take the deal, you will do your time, and you will keep your nose clean while you’re inside so you can get out and meet your grandchild.”

“What grandchild?” He looks to my brothers but the two of them lean back, shaking their heads. “You?” he asks me.

I nod. “Yes.”

“You’re having a baby?”

“Yes,” I say again.

His eyes flick between us. “With this guy?”

“Yes. I am pregnant. Lance is the father.”

My father pauses, his face shrinking the more he thinks about it. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” he mutters.

I roll my eyes, glancing back in time see Marcus’ face fall as the guilt stabs at him. At least, I hope it’s guilt. I hope he realizes that it was his dirty trick that led to this. He brought me and Lance back together. Guess I can thank him for that someday. Maybe.

“Is there anything you’d like to say?” I ask him.

Marcus raises his head. “No, ma’am,” he says.

I nod before turning back to my father. “Well?”

He lets out a soft, painful groan. “Mr. Tyler,” he says.

Lance tilts to look around me. “Yes, sir?” he asks.

“Sorry,” my father says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like you mean it, Papa,” I say.

He clears his throat. “Mr. Tyler, I am sorry that I assaulted you,” he says, louder than before.

Lance nods. “Thanks.”

“Though it is my personal opinion that you might have deserved it just a little bit.”

“Papa...” I glare at him.

Lance cracks a smile. “I would be shocked if you didn’t think so, sir.”

My father chuckles once and looks to my brothers. “You’re both awfully quiet,” he says.

Gavin shrugs. “Gotta let Sissy speak her piece.”

“And now that she has, what do you have to say?”

Danny grins. “Sounds good to me.”

“Yeah, she’s got a good head,” Gavin says. “I think it’s the best path forward for us. Time’s have changed, so should we.”

Jerry slinks forward. “Sir, if I may, I think this is a terrible—”

“Shut up, Jerry,” my father says.

“Okay.” Jerry slides back into his corner without another word.

My father glances between my brothers before turning his head up to me again. “You sure this is what you want?” he asks me.

I nod. “Of course.”

The door opens and two guards step in.

“Time’s up, Argento,” one of them says.

My father waves his hands and the other guard steps forward to detach his cuffs from the table. He stands up and turns toward Lance, towering a few inches above him in height.

I bite my cheek, growing nervous as my father just stands there and stares at him but Lance doesn’t move. He barely blinks.

With a smirk, my father raises his cuffed hands to Lance’s cheeks and silently guides him closer. He kisses Lance’s left cheek and then moves to his right, stopping afterward for another moment of hard staring.

“Come on, Argento.”

The guards gesture my father toward the door and he walks out into the hall with them without another word.

Lance exhales slowly and looks around the room at the rest of us. “So, was that a good thing, or...?” His voice trails off nervously.

I wince. “I’m not sure...”

Gavin stands up and throws his thick arms around Lance’s neck.

“Benvenuto,” he says, slapping Lance’s back.

Lance stiffens. “Okay.”

As Gavin steps back, Danny quickly takes his place, embracing Lance even harder.

“You bring him to dinner tonight, Sissy,” Danny says.

“Oh, no,” I say. “No, he’s not ready for—”

“Ma’s been looking for an excuse to make her saltimbocca,” Gavin teases. “This is perfect!”

“Guys, come on...”

Lance holds his breath but my brothers’ maniacal grins are more than a little contagious.

“I’d... love to?” he says.

They slap his shoulders again, sealing his fate.

I guess I should have seen this coming.

There’s nothing more important than family.