Moe sat in her usual place in front of the fire at the Glades Motel and stared into it, ignoring the profanity and obscene expletives that were being exchanged by the men hanging around the blaze. She was secretly grateful that nobody asked for sex from her tonight. At least they hadn’t yet. She wanted to, needed to wallow in her pain alone. It had been almost two weeks since Kit, Grizz's wife, had been brutally attacked. Moe had caught the brunt of Grizz’s anger when it was discovered that the dogs he'd had for Kit's protection had been locked in Moe's room for the night. She slowly raised her head and focused on the number four that was displayed on Grizz and Kit's unit. Her guilt was overwhelming, especially since she was harboring a huge secret. One she knew would cost her her life if Grizz ever found out.

Hooting and hollering broke the spell and she looked up to see a short blonde woman cautiously approach the group. It was a small crowd, only four or five men, and Moe didn't like them. There were only a few regulars she felt safe with, but none of them were around. Grunt had moved out and was living with his girlfriend in a condo on the beach. Chowder had taken Chicky to have a few drinks and shoot pool at one of the bars Grizz owned, Razor’s. Fess was out of town at a teaching conference. Blue was home having dinner with his family. Grizz and Kit were in their unit. Grizz hadn't left Kit's side for two weeks.

Moe eyed the woman and immediately knew she'd stumbled on the Glades Motel by accident. She was probably a lost motorist or a hitchhiker who'd been dropped off. Moe recognized the look of sheer panic on the woman's face when she noticed the motorcycles and the logo on one of the leather jackets that was draped on the back of a lawn chair. The patch identified it as one of South Florida's most deadly motorcycle clubs. The chairs haphazardly circled the fire the regulars referred to as the pit. Moe saw the panic turn to terror when the blonde realized she'd walked right into a den of thieves, murderers, and rapists. And she was their next target.

Moe jumped up and ran to number four. She went in without knocking. Grizz, who'd been sitting on the coffee table with his back to her, turned around and frowned at the interruption.

"I don't need pampering, Grizz. I'm fine. The couch is comfortable, and I want to do a little reading and watch my show. If I need something, I can get it myself." Kit's soft and sweet voice caused Moe's insides to twist. Especially when she peered around Grizz and asked, "Moe, are you okay? Do you need something?"

Moe couldn't wrap her head around the fact that the woman who almost died was asking if she needed something. Her guilt weighed heavily, and if she could've put herself in Kit's place or reversed what had happened two weeks ago, she would have gladly done so. It was too late to change that, but she might be able to do something to help the poor girl who was probably already being stripped of her clothes. She could only hope that Grizz would care.

She ran to him and pulled on his huge, tattooed arm.

"Moe needs you, Grizz," Kit told him as she started to get up.

"You stay put," he told his wife as he stood. "And when I get back you're going to take a pain pill. I see it in your face, Kitten. You're still hurting."

The pounding in Christy's head was overwhelming. An icy fear almost paralyzed her. She was going to be attacked. She was going to be raped. Probably even murdered. She turned around and bolted for the highway, but one man was on her like lightning. He grabbed her roughly by her arm and after spinning her around tried to shove his tongue down her throat as he gripped the back of her neck tightly. He used his other hand to squeeze her left breast violently. She let out a cry as his grasp became more like a death grip and she felt her shirt tear. His rancid breath caused her to gag. She was having a thousand thoughts all at once and not one of them was managing to offer an escape plan.

A memory floated through her mind. Afternoon thunderstorms were an everyday occurrence in the summer. Litzy had told her that if she counted the time between when she saw the lightning and heard the thunder she could tell how far away the storm was and as her counting got higher, it meant the storm was moving away. Unfortunately, Christy couldn't see the lightning from inside her closet, so Litzy taught her a Scripture to help calm her fears. Christy must've said it thousands of times in her youth, and it replayed itself in her mind now.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love..."

It played like a mantra in her head as she remembered that some of her happiest childhood memories revolved around Sunday mornings at church with Litzy. That changed right before her thirteenth birthday. After returning from a family cruise, twelve-year-old Christy had told Litzy that there was no God and she never stepped foot inside a church again. Christy decided to give Litzy's God another chance.

Help me, God, she screamed in her head. She couldn’t get the words past her lips. Show me a way out of this.

"...a sound mind...a sound mind...a sound mind." Give me a sound mind. Help me to think, her brain cried as her fists landed against the chest of the man attacking her, doing nothing to stop him.

In an instant, visions of Anthony's handsome face came to mind. She recalled the deep dimple she'd first noticed less than two hours ago. She then imagined his smile fading and remembered the fierce scowl she thought could shrink a violet, and she tried to utter the only two words she could think of. They would either save her. Or seal her fate.

Before she could get them out, the man landed a stiff blow to her face causing her to stumble backward. She felt the blood spurt from her nose as she caught herself before she fell. She turned to run, but felt the painful ripping of her hair as she was yanked back harshly. Her entire body was spun around and she was forced to her knees.

"Anthony Bear," she managed to force out as the disgusting creature who'd left his spit on her face stopped unbuckling his belt and looked down at her.

His expression instantly switched from one of pure evil to concern. He looked from side to side as if trying to assess if there was any immediate danger. He tugged on his filthy beard as if he wasn't too sure of himself.

Christy watched him as she felt the tears from her cheeks mingle with the blood running down her nose. She swiped it away and noticed when his face changed again. Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he was jerked back roughly by the scruff of his neck.

"Carney, how much money you think I can get if you keep beating on her?" a deep voice asked.

Christy slowly looked up to where the voice had come from and started to shake as she stared into the most mesmerizing green eyes she'd ever seen. The light of the fire cast a perfect glow, and the coldness and brutality she saw in them caused a hopelessness like she'd never felt before. She felt someone grab her by the arm and help her stand. It was the little boy she'd seen sitting by the fire when she first walked up. It took her a split second to realize upon closer inspection that it wasn't a boy who'd run away. It was a woman.

"Ah, I didn't think about that. I was just having some fun," Carney answered, nervously scratching his cheek.

"Moe, take her to your room and calm her down. Get her cleaned up,” said the man who’d interrupted her assault. He looked at Christy's bloody face, torn shirt and the scratch marks on her arm where Carney had grabbed her too roughly. "Give her one of your shirts and bring her to number four."

Christy heard bikes starting and saw her abuser heading toward them.

"Not you, Carney," the man with the penetrating green eyes and long blond hair commanded.

Carney started to shrink, concerned that he might be in trouble, when his leader said, "Hang for a while. I have a special job for you."

"Sure thing," Carney said as he puffed out his chest. Having never been singled out before, he was certain his standing in the gang had just been elevated—if the blonde woman was worth quite a bit of money. He headed to the other side of the fire and took a seat in one of the lawn chairs and watched as Grizz, Moe and the hot looking blonde walked toward the motel.

"Are you Christy Chapman?" the big man asked quietly as they walked away from the pit.

"Yes," she sobbed. "How do you know that?" The instant realization that she might've jumped from the frying pan into the fire caused her chest to tighten. What if he was one of the other sharks that was looking for her? She'd never considered that Van was in trouble with someone on this coast. She was going to tell the huge man that she could and would pay her own ransom when he said, "Don't be afraid."

"You...you're not going to hold me for ransom for Anthony?" she stammered. "Or Van?" she said softly.

He didn’t seem surprised by her unusual question and didn't answer as he looked around. "How'd you get here?"

"My car ran out of gas after I got off the Alley. I've been walking."

He was silent at first. He nodded and continued heading toward unit number four. "You're safe here," he told Christy assuredly.

As soon as Grizz walked through the door, Kit asked, "What was so urgent?" as she moved to a sitting position on the couch. Grizz wasn't going to tell his wife that a woman had almost been raped. Especially after what she'd been through just two weeks ago.

"A woman ran out of gas after getting off the Alley. She started walking, and you know how pitch black it is out there. She tripped and banged up her face. She walked up to the motel with a bloody nose and Moe thought she'd been in an accident. She's helping her get cleaned up. I told Moe to bring her here when she's done. Hope you don't mind, baby. I didn't think you’d want her hanging in the pit with my guys," he said hoping it would cease his wife’s curiosity.

Kit's eyes widened. "Oh, the poor woman. Of course she's welcome to come in here with us. I guess she has someone she can call?"

He wasn't ready to share any details with Kit about Christy Chapman. Anthony had called Grizz the night before and explained how Van Chapman had skipped town and that Anthony and other loan sharks had been hunting him down. He also explained that he was holding Chapman's stepdaughter for ransom. He asked Grizz to put some feelers out to see if anyone knew Chapman's whereabouts and to make sure that Grizz wasn't one of the sharks on Chapman's trail. Grizz assured him that he had no dealings with Chapman. Besides, he was too busy looking for Kit's assailant. When Grizz heard the frightened woman cry Anthony's name, he knew immediately who she was.

He went to his wife's side and gently tucked her blanket around her. Caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, he said, "Yeah, I have a number I'm going to page for her." He then laid a soft kiss on her forehead, and asked her if she needed anything. When Kit asked him to turn down the TV so she could read, Grizz did it. After using the phone, he headed back outside.

Christy couldn't stop shaking. The small black-haired woman called Moe never said a word as she gently helped Christy slip out of her shirt. She silently walked to a dresser and pulled out a black T-shirt and handed it to her. Moe left her alone and headed for the bathroom. Christy used the moment to scan the room. No phone. Moe quickly returned and handed Christy a warm washcloth.

After cleaning herself up, Christy begged, "Can you help me get to a phone? Or maybe you can give me a ride? I can pay you." She then realized that she must've dropped her bag outside. Moe didn't say anything. She took the washcloth from Christy and tossed it in the bathroom. She then motioned for Christy to follow her back outside.

After retrieving Christy's bag from the ground, Grizz leaned up against the wall and waited for the women to come out. He stayed close to his unit in case the phone rang. He chewed on a toothpick as he casually stared at the only man left in the pit. Grizz would let Anthony decide Carney's fate.

He slowly pushed away from the wall when he heard Moe's door open. A shaken Christy Chapman, wearing Moe's black AC/DC T-shirt, approached him cautiously. Moe silently followed behind. Without saying anything, he handed Christy the bag she'd dropped. She thanked him without making eye contact.

"I'm going to bring you inside and introduce you to my wife. She was in an accident two weeks ago," he lied. "You will not say anything that upsets her."

Christy looked up and nodded.

He opened the door and stepped aside so both women could walk inside the room. He followed and shut the door behind them. Kit wasn't on the sofa; the only reminder that she'd been there moments earlier was her blanket and Bible. Grizz motioned to a seat at the other end of the couch, and Christy sat down. Moe turned Grizz's desk chair around and sat so she was facing the room.

Christy surveyed the tiny but stylishly furnished living space and tried to imagine the woman who was married to the green-eyed monstrous man. She conjured up an image of a tattoo-riddled, hard-lived woman with ratty hair and bad skin. Her thoughts were interrupted when the telephone rang. She heard a woman's voice call out from another room.

"Is anybody out there?"

"I've got it, baby," he said as he stood and headed for the small kitchen. Christy was certain she detected affection in his tone.

"Yeah?" he answered gruffly, and after a beat, "I have something that belongs to you."

After hanging up and returning to the living space, Christy watched as the big man perched on the end of a recliner.

"Was that Anthony who called?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

"So, you're ransoming me back to him?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Before he could answer, they were interrupted.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you came in. I had to use the bathroom. I'm Kit."

Christy's jaw almost hit her chest when a young and pretty brown-haired woman walked into the room. She was the total opposite of what Christy had imagined. Christy stood as the woman approached her, her right hand outstretched and her smile sincere. It was obvious that she'd been in an accident. An accident that must've done a number on her face. The bruises were fading, but the amount of discoloring made it obvious that her injuries had been serious. There were thin red lines on her lip and cheek. She must've had stitches removed recently, Christy thought. There was a cast on her left wrist.

"I'm Christy," she said, her voice a little shaky.

"We need to get some ice on your face," Kit told her. "Your nose and cheek look puffy. And you've already got a giant knot on your forehead," she continued, squinting like she felt Christy’s pain.

Kit spun around to head back to the kitchen when Grizz stood and grabbed her arm. "Moe can get it," he told his wife, his deep voice resonating throughout the small living space.

"I can get it, Grizz," she told him.

"Grizz?" Christy interrupted, her tone one of bewilderment. "You're Grizz?"

"You know each other?" Kit asked sweetly as Grizz guided her to the sofa. Moe had already jumped up and was heading for the kitchen.

Christy didn't miss the grimace of pain when Kit took a seat at the other end of the couch. She also didn't miss the look of tenderness from Grizz when he stood and helped his wife arrange her blanket. He took the Bible from her and laid it on the coffee table.

"No. We've never met," she told Kit. "I've heard Anthony mention his name." Grizz had leaned over to lay Kit's Bible down and looked up meeting Christy's eyes. Just like in Anthony's spare room, an unspoken agreement passed between them and Christy knew that she wouldn't be going into any details about her situation with Anthony Bear.

"You're a friend of Anthony's?" Kit asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes," Christy said with a timid smile. The woman was having a calming effect on her.

"I see you're an AC/DC fan too," Kit commented.

Christy wasn't exactly sure what she meant until Kit nodded at her shirt and said, "Moe loves AC/DC. She has one exactly like it.”

Christy knew that Grizz hadn't shared with his wife that her shirt had practically been ripped from her body. Kit didn't know she was wearing Moe's T-shirt. She nodded and smiled at the woman.

Grizz leaned back in his recliner as Kit engaged Christy Chapman in conversation. He was amazed at the calming effect his wife had on the woman. He'd noticed Christy’s body language relax as Kit treated her like a long-lost friend. He was so proud of Kit. His young wife had been beaten, raped and left for dead two weeks ago, but her first concern was for the woman who now sat in their living room. He was certain that Christy was captivated by Kit's loving and kind nature and had temporarily forgotten the circumstances that had brought her to the Glades Motel and what had happened just outside their door. They talked about everything from Fleetwood Mac to Masterpiece Theatre and he had to stifle a yawn more than once. Sometime during the course of the next hour, Moe had taken it upon herself to offer drinks and snacks and it wasn't too long before Grizz insisted that his wife take something for her pain.

It didn't take long for Christy's heartbeat to return to normal. She found the ice pack soothing and gratefully accepted the drink that Moe wordlessly offered. She felt calm and safe in this small group's presence. She had to admit, it was the most unusual group of people she'd ever met, but she felt no threat and sincerely enjoyed talking to Kit. She noticed that even though Kit addressed Moe more than once, Moe never answered. She nodded or shook her head, but never said a word. Christy had a difficult time reconciling the scary man she'd met outside with the man who now gazed at his wife with such tenderness it almost caused an ache in her own heart. She'd never once allowed herself to wonder what it would feel like to have a man look at her that way. Her heart yearned for something that had been buried for so long, her brain wouldn't let her conscious mind recognize it. And when she did, the impact to her heart was deep. Love. She wanted to be loved.

Her thoughts drifted as she tried to bring a memory to the surface. A memory of being held in huge, strong arms while soothing words of comfort she didn't recognize were whispered in her ear. A feeling of complete and total security. A place where something deep inside told her she belonged.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Grizz stood abruptly.

"Bear's here."