Fourteen hours behind a wheel is about eleven hours too long. When I finally enter Los Angeles, it’s close to midnight and I’m seeing shadow-people in my rearview. I need food and caffeine badly. Not to mention a toilet. I’m so loopy I don’t consider the risk as I drive straight to the one place that has all three.

When I walk in the door of Al’s, I’m surprised by the level of nostalgia that hits me. The smell of grease is stronger than I remember, the late-night crowd even more rowdy. Although it’s only been weeks since I last wore a frilly apron and a bad attitude, it feels like years.

A shrill whistle briefly drowns out the noise. I look toward the kitchen window, already knowing what I’ll see. Sure enough, Raul has his arms propped on the counter as he grins at me.

“Hey, K!” he shouts. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

I follow his gaze across the diner. Karina turns from serving a table, frowning as she looks around. When she sees me, her eyes widen, and she shoves her empty tray at a passing waitress. She jogs toward me, ignoring the angry coworker in her wake.

I eagerly accept her hug. “It’s so good to see you,” I say, meaning it so much my eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I disappeared on you. I want to explain, I really do, but—”

“Say no more,” she says gently, releasing me to meet my gaze. “By your face alone, I know you’ve gone through the wringer. You want to eat?”

I nod. “Yeah. Counter okay?”

She squeezes my shoulder. “I got you, girl.”

After a quick stop in the bathroom, I find an empty seat at the counter. There are a few other singles and couples, but the bulk of the diners are larger groups at tables.

Before Karina can get to me, Raul comes out of the kitchen and grabs the coffee pot. I turn over my mug and he fills it.

“Thanks, Raul.”

“Sure thing, chica.” He leans over the counter to give me a kiss on the cheek, but doesn’t pull back. Mouth near my ear, he whispers, “I love you, but you need to leave. People been asking around about you. And I’m not talking about gueros from Publisher’s Clearinghouse, if you catch my drift.”

My body rigid and cold, I sit frozen as he straightens and wipes the counter to my right. He doesn’t look at me again—not when he finishes, and not when he turns and disappears into the kitchen.

Karina slips onto the stool beside mine. “Did he tell you?” she murmurs.

I nod. “What do they look like?”

“A few times, white guys in suits. Then others. Bad people. Wearing colors.”

Gang members.

I jerk to standing. Reaching into my purse, I pull out an envelope holding stacks of hundred-dollar bills. When I’d counted out thirty thousand dollars, I’d been surprised by how unimpressive it looked in real life. Just paper, thin and without much weight. But at least I could do something good with it.

Giving Karina the envelope, I meet her frightened eyes. “Rent that studio space you always talked about, K,” I whisper fiercely. “You’re an incredible artist. Get your work out there. Half of it’s for Raul. But only on the condition he stops selling drugs.”

“What?” She glances inside the envelope. “Holy—”

I hug her hard, cutting off her words. “Thank you for being my friend. I didn’t tell you enough how much you mean to me. Be happy, K.”

I glance at the kitchen window, where Raul stands watching me. He mouths, Be safe. With a brave smile, I nod. Then I let go of Karina and walk out of Al’s.

Shit just got real.

* * *

After a quick stop at the bus depot to rent a locker for the rest of the cash, I go straight to Liam’s. Making the detour was an excruciating test of endurance. No matter the color of their skin or style of clothes, every stranger had felt like an enemy.

By the time I pull into Liam’s driveway, I’m seconds from a full-blown meltdown. With the last of my sanity, I jump out of the car and race to the door.

It opens as I near it.

“Liam,” I gasp, throwing myself at the shadowy figure.

Hard arms come around me, cradling me against a warm chest. I bury my nose in his t-shirt, dragging his scent into my lungs.

Only it’s not his scent.

“Ah, lass, sorry to disappoint. But I’m glad to see you.”

Horror steals my breath. Locks my muscles. Turns my knees to jelly. In the hallway, a light switches on. Over Chris’s shoulder, I see two men walking toward us.

“Gone,” says one of them, a thin bald man with tattoos snaking up either side of his neck. “Safe’s empty. He’s got his passport.”

The muscles under my cheek tense. “Maddoc won’t be pleased.”

The other one, a thickly built blond, smiles when he notices me. “Who do we have here?”

Chris keeps his arms locked around me, but turns to face the men. Feeling like a rag doll, I’m spun until my back is against his chest.

As both men get a good look at me, their expressions slacken with shock.

“This, gentlemen, is the much sought-after Eden Sumner. She not only shares our fair Alexis’s looks but her taste in dangerous men.” Thick fingers wrap around my throat; he squeezes my airway closed. “You don’t happen to know where Liam ran off to, do you, Eden?”

The pressure releases and I suck in a breath. “No,” I gasp. “If I knew he was gone, do you think I would have come here?”

My captor chuckles. “Likely not.”

The skinny tattooed guy looks at me, beady eyes dragging over my chest and hips. He licks his lips and I shudder.

“What are we going to do with her?”

“Don’t fecking think it,” snarls Chris. “With Liam on the run, Eden here is our consolation prize. Would you rather wet your dick or keep your head on your neck?”

Bile burns the back of my throat. Panic washes away my courage. I’m not a fighter. Not strong. Elizabeth and my dad were wrong.

“Please let me go,” I whisper.

My flesh crawls as Chris nuzzles the nape of my neck. “Now why on earth would I do that?”