The security guys driving us definitely look like “stiffs”. I can’t remember if a stiff is just a term for a police officer or something, but whatever it’s normally used for doesn’t matter, because these guys are stiffer than boards. No smiles, no idle chat as they drive, just business. Rather than making me feel comfortable to be with two professionals though, it gives me an uneasy feeling, like their stiffness goes beyond just professionalism and feels more like coldness, and I wonder how much integrity men like that could have for their job, or how easy they could be bought.

“What’s so funny?” asks Jen.

I realize I was laughing quietly at my own tinfoil hat conspiracy. Knowing Sean is out there and probably still pissed, despite what Selene thinks, is messing with my head, but Jen doesn’t need to know that.

“I never thought I’d be learning the guitar. I’ve got these little stubby sausage fingers,” I say, holding up my hand and splaying my fingers. “I just figured I’d never be good at it.”

Jen laughs with delight as she puts her palm against mine, raising her eyebrows when she sees her hand is only slightly smaller than mine. “Well, I’m still growing into my hands, but I can play just fine with these little sausages too. You’ll be great.”

I smile at her. It’s sweet and sad how this little girl has latched on to me. She may have kept me at arm’s length for a while, but no matter how much she misses her mom, every little girl needs a motherly figure in her life. I should know. The day I lost my little sister I might as well have lost my mom and dad too. Except no older woman ever came into my life and became that person for me, maybe that’s why I’ve latched on to guys like Sean--dominant assholes, but assholes who will try to control me like parents are supposed to. I just never met a guy like Dean before who can be dominant but in the right ways, like he knows he’s going to get his way but he’s also careful not to ask for too much or for anything that could hurt me.

He uses the power of command he has gently and with care, but it’s still there, simmering and crackling with energy behind those gorgeous eyes of his, threatening to bring me to my knees with the slightest look or touch. Every moment with him is electric, like we’re two frayed wires just about to touch, like the energy itself makes the air thick and prickly. And God, I don’t know how I’ll ever find that with another guy. Dean may just be having fun with me right now, but that doesn’t mean it can’t change, that he won’t decide he wants to settle down eventually. Maybe he was like this with all the women who came before me and maybe he’ll be like this with all the women who come after.

But there I go again. That’s the old me talking. The old, beaten down, insecure woman who knows if she stands up for herself there will be a strong hand to bring her right back to the ground where she belongs. That’s not me anymore. Maybe now I know there’s a strong hand on my side, one that will push back anyone or anything that tries to stop me. Dean. He’s my guardian and my lover--I can say that much for sure, and maybe the new Camille would even call him my boyfriend. Hell, why stop there. My future husband.

“You’re grinning again,” says Jen. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing. I was just… It’s nothing.”

The security guys follow us into the guitar store, which is bigger than I expected. Jen takes me past drum sets and way more types of musical instruments than I expected to see before we reach a wall absolutely covered in guitars. I look over my shoulder and notice the security guards are standing close together, nodding as they talk into a cell phone. One of them notices me looking and taps the other on the shoulder. The one on the cell looks up, glares, and then turns his back.

I can’t put my finger on what it is exactly, but something mentally clicks into place and my stomach turns to ice. “We should go,” I say to Jen.

“What? You haven’t even picked one out.”

“Jen. Please, we need to--”

“Finding everything okay?” asks a surprisingly muscular guy with a buzz cut. He doesn’t look like the musician type at all, especially not when he kicks a leg up on a bench and leers at us. “I could help you find the right fit.”

“We’re fine, thanks,” I say, trying to gently guide Jen away, who by this point is also looking around the store with a little less composure than she showed just a few seconds ago. Maybe she’s noticing the same thing I’m seeing--aside from the security and the macho buzz cut guy, it’s just us in here. For a store this size and at this time of day, it all feels wrong.

A hand clasps around my shoulder. “I insist,” says the man. “My boss will be here in a minute. Maybe he can help you find what you’re looking for.”

“Really,” I say. “We’re fine.” I try to move his hand away but his grip doesn’t budge. “You’re hurting me,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You look lost. Are you sure you didn’t wander away from where you belong?” he asks in a condescending tone.

My eyes go to the security guards, who are watching the guy manhandle me and show no signs of surprise. In fact, they seem to be paying more attention to the entrance of the store than they are to me. They are making sure no one comes in. They are in on this.

I struggle to think clearly, as if there’s thick molasses clouding my brain, forcing every simple thought and idea to crawl by with agonizing slowness. We’re in trouble. Help Jen. Get Jen out of here safe. Don’t freeze up like you did with Vanessa.

“Let me go,” I say, feeling lightheaded. My breaths come in rapidly now, heart hammering inside my chest, threatening to burst.

“Let her go,” says Jen. Her face is pale and sweat is beading on her forehead. She knows too.

The entrance door chimes and I look up, expecting to feel relief at some customer who might have wandered in to help us, but instead what I see makes my throat clench with terror. The old, familiar weakness rises up in me, paralyzing my muscles. I can’t fight back against his anger or the force of his will. His rage is stronger than I ever could be.

Sean.

He strides purposefully toward us and I see the hatred practically boiling the air around him. Every step is an attack, a statement of cruelty and a promise of pain. His hair is tangled and looks black as tar, even under the flourescent lights. But worst of all are his eyes--dark as night and full of more violence than I’ve ever seen.

“Jen, run!” I shout, grabbing the man who’s holding me by the forearms now and instead of trying to break free, I try to hold him still. “There has to be a back exit. Go!”

Ignoring me, Jen pulls at the man’s arms, trying to free me from his grip.

“Jen!” I shout, watching Sean grow closer and closer with every step. “You have to go. I can talk to him. I’ll calm him down, just go. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

She still ignores me, struggling with the man holding me, and I feel a wild sort of panic take over me. There are only seconds before he’s on top of us, and I have to do whatever I can, anything I can to get her to run. I don’t have time to think or plan, I just act.

“I’m not really with your dad. It’s all fake, this is my real boyfriend. I don’t want you here, just go!”

I watch her expression darken with a pang of loss. She sees me now. She sees what I really am, and it only takes her a second of it to turn and run.

“Get the little girl!” shouts Sean. “This one knows better than to run,” he says, tilting his head toward me.

The man lets go of me and runs after Jen. I make to follow after them, to try to slow him down somehow, but my blouse tightens against my chest and I’m yanked backwards. I realize Sean has me by the shirt now and for a brief time I’m weightless, then my body slams into a shelf full of music books. I collapse to the ground with the wind knocked out of me, trying to find the strength to stand but falling again and again to my hands and knees.

“Hey, you fucking idiots!” shouts Sean toward the two security guards. “Go around back and cut her off instead of just standing there. Jesus Christ!”

The door chimes and I see Sean’s face only inches from mine. I can even smell the alcohol on his breath. “Stay, bitch. Stay,” he says before leaving me completely alone in the store to chase after Jen.

Stay.

It’s not the first time he has commanded me like a dog, and I wish I could say it hadn’t worked in the past, but it did. It worked too well. It was one of his ways to remind me that he owned me, and every time he exercised that reminder, I was left feeling dirty, ashamed, and weak, because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the courage to disobey him.

This time he made a mistake. I’m not the same scared girl that he knew. He can’t just say jump and expect me to ask how high. Not anymore. Maybe I can thank Dean for that, maybe it’s something else. Frankly I don’t care. All I know is the paralysis is gone. My legs are pumping and I barely feel the pain from where I collided with the bookshelf.

No matter how hard I run though, I can’t catch up. My mind is willing and my body is responsive for the first time in my life, but I still can’t catch him. Jen is already outside and Sean reaches the door, yanking it open.

The brief time it takes him to pull the door open gets me within arm’s reach, but he turns toward me, eyes wide with shock at my disobedience.

His shock doesn’t last long though, and I recognize the way he’s looking at me. I reach for a guitar on the wall and swing it at him as hard as I can before he can try anything.

He blocks it by bringing his forearms up to shield his head.

“Fucking bitch,” he growls.

“I hate you!” I scream. “I’ve always hated you!”

“You think you hated me before?” he asks, jabbing a finger in my face. “You’re going to pay for all of this. And I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of it. No more going soft on you. Now I’m going to go throw that cocksucker’s daughter in my car, then I’m going to come back here for you. So I’ll say it one last time. Stay.”

He turns, opens the door, and leaves me standing there. I don’t hesitate for even a split second. I yank the door open and run outside in the alley behind the shop. I see a black Mercedes parked near the end of the alley and the man with the buzz cut is wrestling Jen into the back seat.

“Jen!” I shout. A small group of college guys pass by the edge of the alley and pause when they hear my frantic shout.

“Help!” I shout. “These guys are kidnapping a little girl!”

The group of guys exchange looks and then break into a jog toward Buzz Cut and Sean.

Sean takes one look at them and his lip curls up into a snarl. “I don’t need you. Yet. Go back to that fucking mansion and wait. Because I’m coming for you next.”

He turns and runs toward the car, hops in the passenger seat, and then the tires squeal, rocketing the car out of the alley and past the two winded security guards who let this all happen.

The college guys come to a stop, sucking in air as they watch the car pass out of view. I watch too, realizing I’ve just failed Jen like I failed Vanessa.

“Slow down,” says Dean, but his hard eyes say what his calm voice hides.“We’re going to get her back.” The anger in them is more frightening than any I ever saw in Sean’s, but not because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me, it’s because I’m afraid there’s nothing he won’t hurt or destroy to get his little girl back. Watching Dean is like watching a growing tsunami far off the coast and knowing it’s only going to be more furious and terrible when it makes landfall--when he finds Sean.

I came straight home and explained everything to Dean after Jen was taken. I’m only now dimly realizing I should have called the police or at least called Dean right away, but all I could think of was getting back to him.

I feel sick for admitting it, even to myself, but I want to watch that collision between Dean and Sean, not just for what Sean has done to me but because he was low enough to bring a little girl into this.

“Did you see where they went?” he asks.

Murph, Tanner, and Selene are gathered around the kitchen island, watching us intently. Murph and Tanner have balled fists and exchange a glance I can’t read when I explain what happened, almost a guilty look, but that wouldn’t make sense. What would they have to feel guilty about?

“No. But the car was a Mercedes. I tried to remember the license plate but I only had a split second to look. I might have some of the numbers or letters mixed up. I think it was like GH2 Q or maybe an O and then some numbers. I really can’t remember more,” I say, feeling like a failure. I might be putting my hope in Dean fixing this because I tried to stop it from happening and couldn’t. Just like with Vanessa, I couldn’t do anything but watch. Even though I ran after her, what good did it do? She’s still in his hands despite all my efforts, and knowing I tried doesn’t make me feel much better.

“Damn it, Camille, think!” says Dean, surprising me with the sudden burst of anger.

“I’m trying,” I say. “It was just so fast. Everything happened so fast.”

Dean’s terrifying anger seems to be so great that it spills over and finds me, and though some logical part of me knows he isn’t really mad at me, that he’s just so upset right now he can’t help accidentally lashing out, I still feel spurned. The look in his eyes reminds me of how my parents looked at me when I recounted my tearful version of what happened to Vanessa. I see hints of the same disgust there, the same question seems to burn unspoken between us, so hot that the letters might as well be etched into the air like streaks of molten fire: Why didn’t you save her?

It’s more than I can take right now, and I rush from the kitchen, heading for the nearest bedroom where I throw myself down on the bed and curl into the fetal position, too hurt and confused to cry. I just stare at the wall, eyes wide and unseeing.

“Cammy?” comes a soft voice. “It’s me,” says Selene, who edges into the room and sits on the bed beside me, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder.

“Is he still out there?” I ask.

“No, he and his brothers are going to go check out the motel where Sean was staying. They decided it was better than sitting on their hands while they wait for the new security guy to give them hits on the license plate numbers.”

“I should go with them,” I say, moving to get up.

“No. Don’t be stupid. Cammy, this is serious. I mean, I know I don’t need to tell you that, right?” She searches my face imploringly, trying to dig out whether I’m really needing to be told that I have no place going on some vigilante rescue mission to stop a kidnapping.

“We should call the police,” I say. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t do it already. I just felt like I had to tell Dean, but I haven’t been thinking straight since she was taken.” I pat around the bed, searching for my phone.

“No police, not now, at least. Think about it, Cammy. The guys are already headed to the motel. Say Sean is there. You think Dean is going to want the police around to see what he does to him? No. We call the police now and we just end up getting our men locked up. Besides, cops are fucking useless.”

“Our men?” I ask, grinning despite everything. Distracting myself with a little girl talk sounds very appealing right about now. God knows I have been neglecting Selene since I dragged her into all this, and I’ve missed her. Now that I feel like everything is spinning out of control, a simple conversation about boys is exactly what I need.

She frowns for a moment, as if trying to figure out why I’d ask a question like that at a time like this, but her confusion passes quickly. Selene knows me well. Frighteningly well, and she drops the concerned, serious face for her old trademark smirk. “You heard me. Our men,” she says.

A smile twitches across my lips, fleeting but refreshing. “I like how I called you in to save me from getting kidnapped and you just decided to shack up with my kidnapper’s brother instead.”

“Girl, this kidnapping was your ‘saving’. If I had done anything about it, you would’ve wound up back in that nipple turd’s life.”

“Nipple turd? I’m guessing you mean Sean?”

She makes an exasperated face. “Obviously. How many other nipple turds do you know?”

“I’d have to say just the one.”

“I missed us,” she says suddenly, gripping my leg and frowning.

“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I know exactly what she means.

“Things have just been different with you lately. You’ve… I’m just glad you’re here, with Dean. I know right now it probably doesn’t seem like the best place to be, but I think we’ll find Jen and we’ll get her back safe. And Dean… he’s so good for you, Cammy. I mean it, like, the way you look when you’re with him makes me so happy to see.” She smiles, wiping a tear from her eye. “God. It’s dusty in here. Making my allergies act up.”

I grin. “There’s no dust in here, you big softy,” I say.

“Shut up.”

I hug her tightly, closing my eyes. “Thank you, Selene.”