Rylan stayed all night, holding me as I slept. Occasionally I woke up, but there weren't any additional nightmares. Each time I felt one coming on, I remembered what he'd told me. He was my anchor, the one who kept me grounded. Aside from the short time after I'd passed out, my sleep was light, but still more restful than what I'd had recently.

I didn't think Rylan slept much at all. Every time I stirred, his arms tightened around me and he murmured something soothing. Still, he didn't seem tired when my work alarm went off the next morning.

“You don't have to go in,” he said, releasing me so I could hit the off button. “We could both play hooky.” He gave me a grin. “I can put in a good word with the boss.”

I eyed his bare chest and broad shoulders. It was so tempting to fall back into his arms. To burrow into the warmth of him, bask in the safety I found there. I could see it, spending the entire day here, letting Rylan take care of me. The independent streak that had come out of my mistrust and sheer stubbornness reared its head. It was one thing to let him take care of me after something like yesterday. It was something else entirely to take advantage of his kindness to get out of work. Besides, it wasn't like I'd get any rest if we stayed here. As appealing as that idea was, I couldn't do it.

I sighed. “We shouldn't. It'll look bad if we're both out again today. Considering how smart the people at Archer Enterprises are supposed to be, I can't believe no one's put two and two together with us yet.” I thought about it a moment, and then added, “Or at least that they aren't talking about it yet.”

“With all of the gossip about Christophe, no one's really been paying attention to anything like that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “If we were talking about some inter-office romance between two people in the mail room, no one would care. But this is you we're talking about.”

He looked startled and the expression almost made me laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Seriously?” I chuckled as I climbed out of bed. Having a normal conversation seemed like a good way to keep my mind off of things while I got ready for work. “Do you have any idea how many women at work want to get into your pants?” I paused, and then added, “And some guys too.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. I let my gaze linger on his firm ass for a moment before walking towards the bathroom.

“I'm serious,” I said as I stopped in the doorway. “People aren't going to like this.” I gestured between us. “And I don't just mean your family.”

Rylan shook his head and I could tell he still didn't believe me. I couldn't believe he was that clueless. Or maybe he'd just gotten so used to the admiring looks that he didn't notice them. Actually, I wondered as I walked into the bathroom, maybe it was because of work. When he was there, he was so thoroughly focused on the job at hand that there were times I wondered if he even noticed me. And, of course, he always assumed that everyone was as driven as he was.

I showered quickly, half-hoping Rylan would join me. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I knew why he hadn't. I could smell waffles cooking.

I tucked the towel more tightly around me and walked into the kitchen, my stomach growling as I went. I hadn't eaten much of anything yesterday, or the entire weekend for that matter. The fact that I was hungry made me feel better.

When I walked into the kitchen, Rylan was at the toaster, frowning at it. I couldn't help but smile. He was so cute, standing there in his jeans, the top unbuttoned. Chest bare, hair still mussed from bed.

“Problem?” I asked.

“How old is this thing?” he asked as he turned. His mouth was open, as if he meant to say something else, but whatever it was died as soon as he saw me. Lust flashed across his face. “Damn, Jenna. We'll never make it in to work with you looking like that.”

“Well,” I said, a teasing note in my voice. “I guess I'd better go get dressed then. Bathroom's free.”

I waited until I was almost at the hallway before dropping the towel. I laughed as I heard him swear. I was still laughing when he caught me around the waist and spun us until my back was against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he grabbed my wrists. His eyes were burning, but I could read the question in them. Even in a moment of passion, he was still thinking of me.

I nodded, my mouth dry. He'd been gentle last night, even at the end, but I knew this wasn't going to be like that at all.

He used his body as leverage and pinned my arms above my head with one hand. The other went between us and I felt the fabric of his jeans move against my bare thighs, then his cock was free. He entered me with one thrust and I cried out as he stretched me too far, too fast. He didn't stop, trusting me to use our safe words if I needed to. Each thrust was harder than the last, driving me into the wall, pushing the air from my lungs. Spots danced in front of my eyes and every nerve screamed. I came on the fourth or fifth stroke and continued coming even as he pressed his face against the side of my neck, teeth nipping at the skin. Just before it turned into pain, he buried himself deep and came with a groan.

His breath was hot on my neck and I felt his heart pounding in his chest, a rapid counter-beat to my own.

“Fuck, Jenna.” He kissed the underside of my jaw. “I can't get enough of you.”

My heart squeezed almost painfully in my chest. “I love you.”

We ended up sharing the shower in an attempt to hurry so we could get in early enough that Rylan could change into the extra clothes he kept in his office. It didn't exactly work as well as we'd intended. Well, as I'd intended. The gleam in Rylan's eyes hinted that his intentions weren't entirely noble, and he'd proven that shortly after we got into the shower.

Needless to say, we both showed up late. I was pretty sure some people noticed, but at least no one said anything. If they wanted to talk behind my back, I really didn't care. I knew how I'd gotten my job and I'd more than proved that I was better at it than anyone else in the building, including Rylan, and he'd be the first one to admit it. My mouth tightened as I walked into my office. As long as they didn't say anything about Rylan. That, I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep my mouth shut about. I doubted Rylan would look highly on having to fire me for punching someone.

Despite all of that, I was surprised at how good it felt to get back to work. The familiarity of numbers and coding, working through the complexities of a security problem, finding backdoors and solutions. I welcomed the chance to fall back into the rhythm and let it carry me to that place where nothing else existed.

I would've worked through lunch if Rylan hadn't called down to see how I was doing. We didn't meet for it, hoping to preserve some sense of professional distance after our morning arrival. It helped, actually, feeling like things were returning to normal. In the back of my head, I knew that I wouldn't really think of life as anything close to normal until after this whole Christophe mess was taken care of, but it was close enough.

I went home alone – though not without arguing with Rylan about it – and managed to eat real food and fall asleep without too much difficulty. Thinking about Rylan made it easier, and I wasn't too surprised when I woke up the next morning without having dreamed at all. He really was my anchor.

Wednesday passed with as much uneventfulness, and I was almost daring to hope that things would be quiet for a while. After the incident with Christophe, the insanity of the holidays and the grand jury, I would be grateful for a little boredom.

Thursday afternoon after lunch, however, I got the call that told me boredom wasn't going to happen.

“Miss Lang?”

“Agent Matthews.” My stomach clenched. “What happened?”

“Mr. Constantine agreed to a plea.” He got right to the point and I appreciated that. “The specifics are still being hammered out, but we have your restraining orders, and he will be undergoing mandatory therapy, be registered as a sex offender and be on probation. We're working on how long.”

“That's good, Agent Matthews.” I couldn't manage anything more enthusiastic. While I appreciated the importance of what a deal like this could mean for hundreds of kids, I wasn't happy about Christophe not paying for what he'd done. “I appreciate you calling to let me know.”

“That's not the only reason I called.”

Shit. That didn't sound good.

“One of the things we had to give in on for him to take the deal was bail.”

I started shaking my head before he even finished what he was saying.

“He wanted to be out on bail until we got things solidified. The judge granted it. Half a million. He got it bonded within a couple hours.”

“Are you telling me that bastard's out?” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“I'm sorry, Miss Lang. We didn't have much choice.”

I wanted to tell him that they did. That the FBI could do whatever the hell they wanted to do. The US Attorney could've demanded Christophe be kept in solitary until he cracked. Or, better yet, for someone with an arrest for child pornography, general population would have been a better idea.

“We have the restraining orders in place, Miss Lang. If Mr. Constantine comes anywhere within a thousand feet of either you or Mr. Archer, call me and I'll have him arrested again.”

“But it won't void his deal,” I said.

“If it's before he gives us the information, no,” Agent Matthews admitted. “If it's after, then yes. He'll serve out the maximum sentence.”

“So I just need to hope he waits a while before he decides to finish what he started.” I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“You knew this was a possibility,” he said. “I couldn't promise any jail time.”

“I knew,” I said. “But I figured I’d have some time where I didn't have to worry about coming home and finding him in my apartment.”

“I can spare a couple agents to watch your place,” he offered. “I can't say for how long, but maybe if he sees that we're protecting you, he'll think twice.”

“No,” I said immediately. “No protection detail.”

For a moment, I thought he would try to persuade me, but he didn't.

“If that's what you want. If you change your mind, all you have to do is call.” He paused, and then added, “And Miss Lang, I still fully intend to try my best to get Mr. Constantine off the streets for as long as possible.”

He hung up before I could respond and I wondered if he felt guilty for not keeping Christophe in jail. Not that it mattered, I reminded myself. He'd been right. Even if Christophe hadn't been given bail, the possibility of more than a slap on the wrist was pretty much non-existent. Christophe would've been out anyway.

It didn't make the knowledge any easier.

I turned back to my computer screen, but I wasn't able to concentrate. The language I knew turned into meaningless ones and zeroes. Even the simplest algorithm made no sense. The things I'd been working on since I was a teenager wouldn't come together in my mind.

I spent the next couple hours trying to regain my focus. Trying to get back to that place where everything was automatic, where things came together in a way that only occurred in things like mathematics and computer technology. Unfortunately, it didn't happen. By the time I was ready to leave, I knew I needed to find something to do to take my mind off of things.

The easy solution would have been to call Rylan, to lose myself in him, in his body. My body tightened at the thought. I wanted him, wanted the forgetfulness he could offer, the shelter.

But I'd never been one to take the easy road, and I wasn't going to start now. As much as I loved Rylan, I refused to lose myself literally, to become a shell of what I was. I'd already fought past having no identity. I wasn't going to do it again. I would find a way to fight what I was feeling on my own.

Fight, I thought. Now there was an idea.

While I'd spent some time running and doing some basic exercises over the past few weeks, I hadn't been to the gym in a while. Maybe spending an hour or so beating on a punching bag would ease some of the tension inside me. It certainly wouldn't hurt, and if I was lucky, it'd exhaust me enough that I'd be able to sleep tonight.