The floor was cold, and they took my coat, but sometimes the colors came and kept me warm. He hadn’t come back since I’d screamed him away, but sometimes others came.

“You’re a really good agent,” I told Clay. “I’m glad that no one found out about us. It was stupid for us to fuck. It wasn’t anything real, and we risked your career. Don’t do it again. You wait until you find someone who’s worth everything, and if she’s worth it, she won’t ask you to risk your career. You deserve it all.”

He smiled at me. That Clay smile that always made me think of the times before Anton died. Back when I still had at least some family. Before I was alone.

Like I was alone now.

Because there wasn’t anyone in the room with me. Clay had left. He never stayed long. He hadn’t stayed long before either.

“Anton, haven’t you gotten that damn thing to work yet?”

I looked up from my seat in the corner as a tall pretty-boy came swaggering into the loft like he owned it. Unruly dark hair and a pair of intelligent blue-gray eyes. If he hadn’t walked right over to the fridge and grabbed a beer like he had every right to go rooting around in the kitchen, I might have thought he was attractive.

Okay, I wasn’t blind. He was hot. Younger than Uncle Anton, but older than my seventeen years.

“Want to grab me a beer too?” I asked as I set aside my book.

He looked down, surprised to see me. “You don’t look old enough to drink.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I believe it’s legal as long as I’m at home and it’s been given to me by my guardian.”

“I’m not your guardian,” he countered.

“You walked into my home acting like you live here, so I was confused.”

He stared at me for a moment, then laughed. “I’m Clay Kurth.” He held out a hand, and I shook it. “I met your uncle at the courthouse a couple weeks ago.”

“You’re the FBI agent who helped him carry that old turntable up here.” I gestured to the hunk of junk in the corner where Uncle Anton had spent his spare time lately.

“I am,” Clay said. “He was bound and determined to get that thing up here. I thought he was nuts.”

“I’m not the one who went undercover in Crazy Tony’s crew to make a racketeering case,” Anton said mildly.

I gave Clay another look. Anton made sure I stayed away from the more unsavory parts of Hell’s Kitchen, but I would’ve had to be deaf to not know who Crazy Tony was. This FBI agent was either incredibly brave…or an idiot. I was leaning toward the latter.

Clay had come around a few more times before Anton died, and after that, he’d kept an eye on me, eventually recruiting me to the FBI. I doubted Uncle Anton would’ve approved of the two of us sleeping together, but I knew he would’ve been glad to know that I had someone like Clay at my back.

Back.

Back.

My back was against the wall. It was cold. My colors had gone away again. Food would come soon, and with it, the needle and the colors. I wouldn’t feel the cold or the fear that wanted to sneak in when those thoughts crept in again. The thoughts that asked where I was and what was going to happen to me.

“Did he hurt you again?”

Jalen looked worried as he crouched next to me. I slowly shook my head as he brushed his finger down my cheek.

“As long as I don’t scream, he doesn’t hurt me,” I said. “And I don’t need to scream when you and Clay are here to protect me.” I grabbed his hand. “Don’t be mad about Clay. He’s my friend.”

“I know,” Jalen said. He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “He’s a good guy.”

I nodded emphatically, then closed my eyes for a moment. Too much moving made me dizzy. I kept talking though. I liked talking to Jalen.

“He is a good guy. I really want you two to get along.”

“We do.”

I opened my eyes to see Clay sitting next to Jalen. I didn’t know which one had spoken, but it didn’t matter because they were both holding my hand now.

“You’re going to find me,” I said as I stretched out on the floor. My room stunk, and I knew I was almost as dirty as the floor, but Clay and Jalen didn’t seem to mind. “Will you keep me warm until the colors come?”

Clay laid down behind me and wrapped his arms around me. Jalen laid in front of me, his arms sliding between Clay’s waist and mine. He rested his forehead on mine, and the heat from their bodies seeped into me.

“Are you looking for me?” I whispered. I didn’t want Serge or his friends to overhear. If they knew Jalen and Clay were coming for me, they might move me, and then no one would ever find me.

“Of course,” Jalen said, brushing his lips against my cheek, my mouth. “I’ll never stop looking for you. I promise.”

“What about the baby?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, his hand sliding under my shirt. His fingers traced my scar. “Elise was lying. There’s no baby. The only person I want a baby with is you.”

“I don’t think I’ll be a good parent,” I admitted. “I don’t know what it’s like to have good parents.”

“Yes, you do,” Clay said quietly. “Before your dad’s accident, you had good parents. Your mom was always amazing. Anton wasn’t perfect, but he was good too. You know how to love.”

“Dad said he didn’t love me.”

“Shh.” Jalen smoothed down my matted hair. “You can remember what it was like before the accident. You know he loved you. Just remember.”

Another crack of lightning was close enough for me to hear it. Thunder rumbled almost immediately, rattling the pictures on my walls. My heart beat rapidly against my ribs, and I slid out of bed. It was too much to deal with alone. I was a big girl, but even big girls were scared sometimes. Daddy told me that, and Daddy didn’t lie.

I ran across the hall into their room, right up to Daddy’s side of the bed. I tugged on the blanket. “Daddy.”

He snored, but right now I didn’t think it was funny how he sounded like a sleeping bear. I didn’t want to laugh. I wanted him to wake up.

“Daddy.” I grabbed his hand this time and pulled on it. “Daddy wake up!”

He blinked at me. “Rona? Are you okay, little ladybug?”

I shook my head. “I’m scared.”

He didn’t ask me why I was scared or what had scared me. He just leaned over and picked me up, rolling us both over so that I was between him and Mommy. That was the safest place to be. No one could get me when I was here. Mommy and Daddy protected me. Kept me safe. They’d never let anyone hurt me.

I jerked awake, my befuddled brain unsure when I’d fallen asleep. Clay and Jalen were gone, and a part of me recognized the fact that they’d never been here to begin with. Someone had been though, because I had new food and water, and a familiar ache in my arm from another injection.

I should be worried about that. Were they using the same syringe? Had they used it on anyone else? What was in it? Was I going to come out of this addicted or damaged? I’d made it through nearly being cut in half without getting addicted to painkillers. I couldn’t let this ruin me.

Clarity of thought didn’t last long, not with another dose of drugs making its way through my system. Before I could get worked up enough to attempt anything remotely close to an escape plan, my limbs began to feel heavy, and the colors came back.

“If you can’t think, you’ll never be able to get out of here.” Jalen nudged my plate with his toe. “You’ve been here for too long already.”

I ate my toast and a pear. I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t have been here too long because I didn’t know how much time had passed. Maybe Serge was feeding me every few hours to make me think I’d been gone for days, but it was only Saturday.

“You were in the FBI,” Jalen said. “You know the chances of finding a kidnap victim goes down with every passing hour.”

“I wasn’t in the FBI,” I said. The drugs blunted my tongue, and the words came out slurred. “I got kicked out for lying.”

“Why did you lie?” Clay asked as he appeared next to Jalen. “You had to know the FBI would figure it out.”

“Because it’s easier to get kicked out than it is to fail,” Jalen answered the question when I could only stare. “Why do you think she dated you? Friends with benefits but with plenty of reasons to cut and run if things got too tough, too emotional. You were practically her supervisor.”

“No, he wasn’t,” I cut in, glaring at Jalen. “It wasn’t like that. Clay and I had fun, but that’s all it was.”

“That’s all it is with you too,” Clay said with a smarmy sort of grin. The kind I’d never seen on his face before. “I’ll bet she’s already given you a reason why she needs some ‘space’ or ‘time.’”

Jalen’s expression shifted, as if something about Clay’s words made him think. “She did say she needed some time to think about things.”

“To think about your wife being pregnant with your child!” I barely managed to keep from shouting. “Anyone would need some time to process that.”

Clay shook his head. “She’s just looking for excuses to get out.”

“I’m not,” I hissed at him. “I don’t want to ‘get out’ of this thing with Jalen.”

“’This thing’?” he echoed. “Is that all we are to each other?”

“Go away!” I clapped my hands over my mouth as soon as I shouted the words.

I stared at the door as sickly yellows and greens swirled around my head. It’d only been two words, and I hadn’t screamed them. Maybe no one heard. Maybe they’d forgive me because I’d been so good. I hadn’t tried to run away or fight since years ago. Or hours. I still didn’t know.

My churning stomach calmed as the door stayed shut. That was good. I didn’t want to throw up. I’d already drunk all my water, and I didn’t have a place to rinse my mouth out. No bathroom at all. Not even a bucket.

I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t want to think about that.

“Of course you don’t,” Clay said. “You never want to think about the unpleasant things. It’s easier to just pretend everything’s fine and then run away when it gets hard.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“You sabotaged your FBI career before it even really began,” he pointed out. “You kept your shirt on when we had sex because you didn’t want me to see your scar, and I knew the second I pushed you on the subject, you’d be out the door.”

I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true, but I knew it was. I pressed my face against my knees and covered my ears. I didn’t want to talk to Clay anymore. I just wanted to drift on the colors and not have to think.

“I love this time of day,” Jalen said as he slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight against his side. “Not quite afternoon, not quite evening. It’s the sort of time that makes me feel like anything’s possible.”

“Anything is possible,” I reminded him. I ran my hand over my stomach, smoothing down the soft cotton of my maternity shirt.

It seemed like I’d gone from a slight little bump to showing almost overnight. In no time at all, our little one would be here, and we hadn’t even begun discussing names.

“What do you think of the name Dana?” I asked. “If it’s a girl, I think we should name her Dana, after my mother.”

“You want to name our child after a woman who was murdered?” Jalen asked.

I pretended his comment didn’t hurt. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She should have left your father the first time she saw that the accident changed him.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I’d said those words too. The first year after…it happened, I’d blamed her. I’d screamed those words at Anton dozens of times those first couple years. The bitterness would have eaten away at me if Anton hadn’t told me that it was okay to be angry. That adults made mistakes, that they didn’t know everything. He told me that if my mother had known what my father would do, she would’ve made different choices.

I still struggled with anger for years after that, but the bitterness was gone. I could love my mom again even as I acknowledged how different things would have been if she’d made different choices.

I mustered a smile for Jalen and tried again. “What do you think?”

He shrugged. “Let’s just call her Denise.”

I frowned. “That’s the name of your other daughter.”

“I know,” he said. “It’ll just make things easier for me, not having to remember two names.”

A cramp in my leg yanked me out of the nightmare, but it was too late. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I scrubbed at them, knowing I was just making things worse. I was filthy, disgusting, and it was no wonder that no one had come for me. No one wanted me badly enough to come.

Dimly, I wondered if the drugs they were giving me were affecting my mood as much as my thoughts, but I couldn’t hold on to the idea long enough to really think about it. Instead, my mind latched onto something else, and I gratefully followed.