I couldn’t breathe. Every breath I tried to take was agony, jarring out what little air I managed to take in. My lungs burned, fire spreading across seared nerves down to my fingers and my toes so that every inch of me was in anguish.

My teeth clacked together as I shivered, each tremor sending another convulsion of pain through me. I was cold, and I was burning. Every gasp was a cry, a whimper. My cheeks were wet, but I couldn’t tell if the liquid was tears or blood.

I could smell blood. That sharp, metallic scent that always made me nauseous surrounded me. I didn’t want to open my eyes, because then I’d see it all around me. I’d see where I was bleeding. See that I was dying.

Because I had to be dying. It was the only possible explanation. The only explanation I would accept. Because if I wasn’t dying, that meant I’d have to endure this and I couldn’t. I needed it to be over. I couldn’t take it. I wasn’t strong enough.

I wasn’t.

I wasn’t.

But I had to be.

Because I heard screaming. Screaming and blood and death and pain and all of it forever and–

I slapped my hand over my mouth as I jerked awake, barely managing to hold in a scream. I pressed my lips tightly together as I tried to talk myself down.

It wasn’t real. Not anymore. It hadn’t happened again. I was in pain from some asshole beating me up. It wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t anything to be scared of. Not like what had happened before. I was safe here. I was home. This was a safe neighborhood. A safe building.

And I wasn’t alone. Clay was here with me. He was just a few feet away, out in the living room. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. No one would get to me here. I was safe.

That was what I needed to remember. That I was safe.

I managed a couple short naps before I finally gave up trying to actually sleep. Not wanting to bother Clay, I didn’t turn on any lights as I made my way to the bathroom. I had to admit, I’d had my doubts about this place when Adare had first suggested that I rent it. I’d been a little spoiled by the loft Anton had left me in Hell’s Kitchen, but once I’d settled in here, I’d realized how good I’d gotten it. No obnoxious neighbors. And no one complaining that I’d used up all the hot water.

When I finally came out of the bathroom, I felt a lot more human and a little bit less sore. The hot water had eased the aches in my muscles, and while moving around wasn’t going to be the most fun thing in the world, I knew if I rested too much, I’d get stiff, and it’d be worse in the long run.

I’d put a new band-aid on my forehead, which looked better, but the bruises on the side of my face looked worse. I’d try later to cover them with makeup, but for right now, it was just me and Clay, and he’d already seen them.

“Your couch sucks,” Clay grumbled as he staggered past me. His hair stuck up at all angles and the pattern of fabric on the couch had imprinted itself on his face.

“Towels are in the cabinet next to the sink,” I called after him. “I’ll make us some breakfast before you hit the road.”

“That would be great.” His voice was muffled by the door. “When do you have to be at work?”

“Adare lets me come and go at my own time,” I said. “It all depends on the case.”

I frowned. My case. With Clay’s sudden appearance and the announcement about my father’s new trial, I’d almost forgotten about Meka. Even after the assault, I’d planned on looking over my notes and figuring out my next move.

Then Jalen happened.

Then Clay.

The shower was on again, which meant my conversation with Clay was on hold until he was done. It said something about how messed up my mind was that I didn’t even consider going into the bathroom to appreciate the view. I may not have been sleeping with him anymore, but I wasn’t blind. The man was hot.

My brain chose that moment to flash a snapshot of last night in front of my eyes. A snapshot of the look in Jalen’s eyes just before he’d kissed me. A shiver ran through me, and it wasn’t because my hair was still wet.

I tightened the belt on my robe and pushed memories of sex aside. It was time for breakfast. I hadn’t eaten much last night, especially after Clay’s little announcement, and now I was hungry for something substantial.

Pancakes.

Pancakes with strawberries.

Yes.

I rummaged through my cabinets, pulling out various ingredients and setting them on the counter. Pancakes were one of the few things I knew how to make from scratch and focusing on small tasks helped me not think about anything else. I’d just finished filling two plates when I heard the shower turn off.

The best thing about not sleeping with Clay anymore was that I didn’t feel the least bit guilty for leaving his pancakes on the counter and starting on mine. I’d only taken a few bites when someone knocked on the door.

Shit. I’d forgotten to call Adare and let her know how things were going. She had a spare key, but I knew she’d never use it unless it was an emergency. I left my plate and headed for the door. I didn’t bother seeing who it was, and the moment I opened the door, I told myself that I really needed to start checking before I opened it.

“Rona.” Jalen’s face was flushed, the skin under his eyes smudged dark. “May I come in?”

I stared at him as I stepped to the side. What was he doing here? Yesterday, he hadn’t been able to get away from me fast enough. I hadn’t asked him to stay, and we weren’t in a relationship. Sure, it’d been a shitty thing to do, but it hadn’t really been much more than an anonymous hook-up. I barely knew him.

“It’s early, Jalen,” I said finally, crossing my arms. It hadn’t felt weird, walking around in my robe with Clay here, but with Jalen, I felt…naked. “Couldn’t this have waited until I was at the office?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t about this case. I came to apologize. For leaving the way I did after…you know.”

“I-It’s–”

“Wow, something smells amazing.”

I looked over to see Clay coming out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist and a grin on his face. A couple months ago, seeing those broad shoulders and flat stomach would’ve turned me on, but now, I had a basic appreciation for his form, and that was all.

He nodded at Jalen. “Hey.”

Jalen’s features turned to ice. “Hey.” He turned to me, his voice as cold as his expression. “I hadn’t realized I was just the first in line last night.”

“Excuse me?” I stared at him, hoping I’d misunderstood. “That’s a hell of an apology.”

He laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “I wanted to apologize because I thought leaving without saying anything was rude. I should have known when you didn’t call me, pissed off about my behavior, that you’d had other plans.”

“What’s going on, Rona?” Clay asked, looking back and forth between the two of us.

Jalen glanced at him, then turned back to me. “Did you shower before you fucked him, or does it turn him on, getting sloppy seconds?”

Mother. Fucker.

I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him toward the door. “I don’t know if you think having money means you can talk to people like that, or that fucking me one time means you own me, but I don’t care about whatever the hell your damage is. Stay the fuck away from me.”

I shoved him out onto the landing, a part of me was hoping he hit a patch of ice and fell down the stairs. I slammed the door shut and stayed there for a moment, resting my forehead on the door as I worked to control my temper.

“Who the hell was that?” Clay’s voice held a familiar, protective note. “And what was he talking about, being the ‘first in line?’”

I straightened and took a slow breath. I needed to be careful how I handled this. The last thing I needed was for Clay to go after Jalen for being an ass. Clay was an FBI agent, and assaulting a civilian for insulting a friend wasn’t something the agency would look on too highly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I turned around. The smile on my face felt as plastic as it was, but it was better than any real expression would be. “It’s done, and we have pancakes that are getting cold.”

Clay looked like he wanted to press for more information, but he knew me well enough that it wouldn’t do any good. “Let me get some clothes on.”

As he picked up his shirt from the floor and headed back into the bathroom, I wondered if I should call Adare and tell her what happened. Then I imagined the look on her face if I told her how badly I’d fucked things up.

Better to leave well enough alone.