With a nervous glance at Abe, I click on the spare window I opened, the one I’ve been using to send text messages to Jason’s phone. While Abe paces just a few feet away from where I’m sitting, I quickly type in the address Abe had me enter into the truck’s GPS unit and hit send.

I hope he gets it and manages to figure out what it means. With Abe so close, I don’t dare type an explanation to go with the address. He may be an idiot, but even he can read a basic text message and figure out what I’m doing.

The small flag at the bottom of the screen pops up. I’ve received a message.

Shit. I’d assumed that Jason had passed his phone to Daryl and gotten himself to someplace safe, but the tone of this message is pure Jason. Not only is he still the one sending the messages, but it sounds like he’s intent on riding to my rescue.

Please, Daryl, I silently pray, hoping some deity will take note, keep him safe. Kelsey needs him. I need him to be okay when all this is over.

Another peek in Abe’s direction assures me that he’s still preoccupied with wondering what the truck is doing.

He’s never going to let me go, not after this. I see it each time my gaze clashes with his. He can’t afford to set me free. Not now. He knows guilt will eat me up until I meet with the police, confess my sins and in doing so take him down with me.

I’m never going to see my loved ones again. I’ve already accepted my reality. I’ve come to terms with it. At least I took measures to keep my baby safe.

I’ll never hold her again, never breathe in her sweet scent, hear her whisper that she loves me or whisper the words back to her.

But there is someone I can still tell. Someone I’m still in communication with.

I hit send and hope the message reaches him.

“Have you breached the security yet?” I was so busy sending the message, I’d forgotten to keep my eyes on Abe. His voice is much closer than I expected. I have just enough time to minimize the window I’m using to communicate with Jason before Abe reaches my chair.

He peers at the computer monitor, trying to make sense of the information on the screen. “Well?” he demands. “Have you done it?”

I’ve put it off for as long as I dare, clinging to the hope that Daryl will find the truck and save the day and that by not messing with the security system, I’ll shorten the prison sentence I know is coming my way. But I can’t dawdle any longer. Not with the lives of every single person I love hanging in the balance.

I enter in one last code and the security system on the truck goes dark. I sit back in my chair. “It’s done,” I mutter.

Abe’s face creases with pleasure. He leans even closer to the screen and stares at it as if he’s trying to burn the information directly onto his brain. “Good.” He straightens and looks down at me. His expression causes my stomach to buck and twist. “Now, let’s have some fun.”

“Fun,” I squeak. My heart thunders in my chest. I have a sinking suspicion I know where this is going.

“Yeah.” Abe lays the gun on the side of table. I look at it. It’s so close, and yet, with Abe standing there, just out of reach. And even if I did get my hands on it, what would I do with it? It’s not like I have the faintest idea about how to go about firing a gun. I mean, I know you have to disengage the safety before pulling the trigger, but I don’t know where the safety is or how to disengage it.

I run my tongue along the inside of my cheek, feeling the torn, raw edges of the wound created when Abe backhanded me with that same gun, forcing the tender skin against the sharp edges of my teeth.

If I get ahold of the gun, I’ll use it as a bludgeon. It might not kill him, but I bet it’ll slow him down.

Abe stares at me with hooded eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches down and traces the sweetheart neckline of my sweater, his fingers gliding down the slope of first my right breast and then my left.

I clench my teeth and stare straight ahead at the computer screen. It takes all my resolve to battle back the instinct to shudder, the need to thrust myself away from him. My instincts tell me that he likes women who fight, who he can pretend to dominate and subdue. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Abe is fascinated by the sight of his hand upon my skin. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says, more to himself than me. “You’re a hot piece. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you. Thinking about what you look like under all those layers you wear all the time keeps me up at night, fantasizing about all the different ways I’m going to take you.”

Bile rises in my throat, threatening to choke me. I hope it does. That would be more pleasant that what Abe has in mind for me.

Boom, Boom, Boom.

There’s no mistaking the loud crack of gunfire. The sound makes my heart race and has Abe jumping backwards.

He stands beside the table, his head tipped to one side, listening. There are no more gun shots. Abe smiles and puffs out his chest, proud as the most arrogant peacock.

For the first time since waking in this tiny, miserable room, hope warms my chest. I know where we are. The sound I’d heard most likely indicated that the soldiers inside the truck are now dead, their life force draining out of their bodies.

But the sound, it was so close, probably just on the other side of the wall. I know where I am. It’s the exact same address that I directed that truck to. Jason and Daryl have its location, which means they have mine as well.

They weren’t fast enough to save the soldiers, they might not be fast enough to save me, but at least they’ll know what happened to me, and that’s something. Kelsey won’t have to go through the rest of her life wondering if her mother is dead or alive.

Boom, Boom.

This time the gunfire sounds different, like it came from a different kind of gun. Something smaller maybe.

The smile slides from Abe’s face as he continues to listen.

More booming gunfire. This time it’s a mix of both the big and small sounding guns. Hope warms my chest, quickens my heartbeat. It sounds like the cavalry has arrived.

I’m not the only one who thinks so.

Large purple spots bloom across Abe’s face as he swings towards me. “What the hell did you do?” he bellows.

“Nothing,” I cry out. I dig my heels into the concrete floor, scooting the metal chair back away from the computer table.

“Bullshit,” Abe roars. He jerks the keyboard off my lap and stars hitting keys with his hotdog-shaped fingers, staring at the screen until he clicks on the tab that pulls up the window I used to send Jason text messages. He leans forward, his mouth moving, sounding out words, as he reads each line I wrote.

I glance at the gun still laying on the table. It’s now or never.

I leap out of the chair, darting behind Abe and stretching my non-cuffed hand towards the gun. My fingertips brush the handle when a blow knocks me sideways. The gun flies in the opposite direction and skitters across the floor before stopping against the far wall.

“You bitch!” Abe swings blindly a second time. His arms catch me in the shoulder, knocking me into the chair. My legs tangle in the metal and I fall backwards, my free arm wind milling in a futile attempt to regain my balance.

I barely hit the floor before Abe is on top of me. His knees straddle my hips and his hands close around my throat, squeezing tightly as his thumbs press into my trachea, sealing it closed.

The fallen chair scrapes against the concrete, pulled by the handcuffs that still bind me to the arm as I lift both hands to claw at Abe’s hands, my nails biting into the backs of them, trying to force him to ease the pressure, but he doesn’t.

My lungs buck and heave, screaming for that air that Abe’s hands deny access to.

“You stupid bitch,” Abe screams down at me. “You’ve ruined everything. I had it all planned out. All you had to do was a few simple things and everything would have been perfect, but you just couldn’t do that, could you?”

On the far side of the wall, the gunfire has stopped; some part of my brain that isn’t panicked by the lack of oxygen recognizes that fact. I think I hear shouting and for a split second I could swear I hear Jason’s voice screaming my name, demanding to know where I am.

I open my mouth, wanting to replay, wanting him to find me, but I can’t. I simply don’t have enough air.

I thrash my head from side to side, still clawing at Abe’s hands as the black spots in front of my eyes grow larger and darker, threatening to take me under. I’m dimly aware that even though I want to keep fighting, want to survive, my body isn’t responding properly. My movements are slower, clumsy.

Something behind me crashes and the shouting I heard earlier seems louder even as I start losing my grip on consciousness.

Abe stops yelling in my face, but his grip on my throat doesn’t loosen as he shouts in the direction of the crash.

More shouting, then a big, thunderous boom.

Above me, Abe’s body stiffens. His fingers grow even tighter around my throat before everything goes slack and he collapses on top of me, blood flowing from two wounds in his head, one in the middle of his forehead, the other a massive hole in the back of his skull.

It’s a grotesque sight, but not nearly as grotesque as his blood streaming across my face, neck, and shoulder. If I wasn’t so desperate to fill my lungs with life-giving oxygen, I’d probably scream, but right now, I just can’t bring myself to care.

“Ella!” Jason’s face appears above me. He drops to his knees, chanting my name as he shoves Abe’s bulk over. His hands sweep over me, trying to determine how much of the blood is mine and how much is Abe’s, searching for mortal wounds.

I try to speak, to tell him I’m fine, that I’ll live, but I can’t force the words past my ravaged throat. It’s all I can do to inhale and exhale.

Satisfied that I’m not full of bullet holes, Jason tugs me half onto his lap, bracing my pounding head against his shoulder as his arms close possessively around me. He strokes my hair and whispers meaningless words into my ear as we wait for the ambulance to arrive.

* * *

Twelve Hours Later

I’m sitting on the side of the bed in Jason’s guest room, wearing a pair of borrowed sweats and one of Jason’s robes. The small nightlight a few feet from the bed provides me with all the illumination I need to make out my daughter’s features as I stroke her hair. Mal sleeps on her other side, unaffected and unconcerned by the events that took place earlier in the day. He’s been fed, he has his kid, he’s been given a soft place to sleep. In his mind, everything is perfect.

It’s difficult to wrap my mind around the idea that just a little while ago I thought I’d never see her again, that by now I’d be dead. Until I try to talk or look in a mirror, when I see the bruises marring my face and ringing my throat, when I hear the painful rasp of my voice. Then I remember how close I was to never enjoying another quiet moment like this one.

I’ll never take them for granted again.

A soft knock on the door draws my attention. Jason smiles in at me, his gaze meeting mine first before shifting to Kelsey. “Mind if I come in?”

“No.” I wince at the harsh sound of my own voice. It sounds like I smoke twenty packs a day. The emergency room doctor assured me that there wasn’t any permanent damage and that after a few days, my trachea will heal and I’ll regain my familiar speaking voice. I refuse to believe it until it happens.

“Please.” Jason holds up his hands, his palms turned towards me. “Don’t speak. Let your throat get better.”

I chafe with frustration. I don’t want to be quiet. I want to talk, to tell him that I’m sorry for not telling him everything, for putting his life in danger…for waiting so long to tell him that I love him and even then waiting until I was convinced I was about to die.

I’ve been horribly unkind to him. I don’t deserve a guy like him.

He sits beside me on the bed and hooks an index finger under my chin, holding me in place so he can look deeply into my eyes, so deeply I wonder if he can see the essence of my soul.

“Ella, I love you,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “I’ve told you that before, but this time I want you to really understand it. I fell in love with you seven years ago and I’m still in love with you today.” He leans forward and kisses one side my mouth, careful to avoid the bruised and split sections of my lips. “Nothing you say, nothing you do matters. I will always love you.”

Pleasure and happiness mix together in an intoxicating cocktail and spread through my veins. I half expected him to yell at me for doing something as stupid as aligning myself with the mafia. I was certain he’d walk out of my life, this time forever, and that he’d take Kelsey with him.

I didn’t even dare imagine that he’d come in here and confess his eternal love.

I wind my arms around his neck and brace myself, prepared to brave the surge of pain that will come when I tell him that I love him even more, but he speaks before I have a chance.

“I want you and Kelsey to be a part of my life. Forever.”

I open my mouth, but he holds up a finger, silencing me. “We’re getting married. As soon as possible. Do you understand?”

The question is barely out of his mouth before his gaze moves past me. I follow it. Behind us, Kelsey’s own eyes are open. She studies us with a thoughtful expression.

“Are you getting married?” she asks, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Yes,” Jason and I say in perfect unison. We share a look and a smile.

“Will Jason be my dad?”

“Yes,” we repeat.

I hold my breath, waiting to see how she’ll handle this announcement. I’m really not sure how she’ll respond. Unlike other kids, who seem to long for a dad and hope that every male they encounter, no matter how unsuitable, will take them under their wings, Kelsey has never been that way. She’s always been content with just Adele and me.

Kelsey chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Perfect,” she says and rolls over onto her stomach and falls back asleep.

Jason’s fingers brush against my arm and I shift to look at him. He grins and sidles closer.

“I couldn’t have said it better,” he tells me before he covers my mouth in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever experienced.