Gabriella couldn’t understand how her world had done such a one-eighty in such a short amount of time.

She tried to recall how it had begun precisely, but it seemed like one minute she had been living the high life as a top-rated model, breaking into international markets with ease and flair, while the next she was rotting away in a jail cell, fearing for her life.

She had been provided a public defender, a fact which had shamed and infuriated Gabriella, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Oddly, the sheriff was still calling her Grace in front of others, and she was suspicious of his intentions.

If he thinks I’m a murderer, he should be outing me at all turns. He shouldn’t care to protect my identity anymore.

When they were alone, she decided to ask him his reasons for maintaining his silence.

“Why haven’t you told everyone who I am?” she asked bitterly when he shoved a paper bag filled with fast food inside her cell. She had never eaten so much crap in her life, and she loathed to admit that she rather enjoyed the change from her kale shakes and protein smoothies.

“I promised you I wouldn’t,” Cameron told her simply. “Would you rather I did?” He walked away before she could respond. Gabriella didn’t know what she wanted anymore.

On one hand, she was furious with Cameron Lapin and the entire Great Falls Police Department, but on the other hand, she knew that she was the only viable suspect they had.

Not to mention, I am probably safer in this place than waiting for someone else to kill me. Well, maybe no one else is trying to kill me. That guy could have been a lone weirdo. Who knows…

Something about the would-be killer told Gabriella he was not acting on a delusion. Moreover, how did he know where to find her? Had he tracked her from New York City? It was the only way that Gabby could imagine she had been located… unless the sheriff had told someone. Yet, as she stared at the sheriff’s gruff face, she couldn’t reconcile him as someone who would do that. It didn’t make any sense.

Why would he? He could have easily told everyone who I am from the day of the accident. He has no reason to protect my identity.

Another side of her reminded herself that he had also convinced her to stay in Great Falls.

Did he do that so that he could set me up for murder? Is he working with someone in New York? But how? I only chanced upon Great Falls by accident. He would have had to contact just the right person who wanted me dead.

Cameron walked back and opened the jail cell to lead her to an interrogation room, where she sat down.

“Your lawyer’s here,” the sheriff explained as he left the room and another man walked in.

Nothing made sense, and Gabby didn’t know who she could trust. Certainly not this hack in a one-hundred-dollar suit, she thought scornfully, eyeing the young public defender.

“Miss Kelly,” he began. “I have to say, this is sort of hard to believe.”

Gabriella was sure she would scream if one more person informed her of their incredulity surrounding the death of the hitman.

“Yes, I have been told,” she snapped. “But that’s what happened. What do we do now?”

The lawyer, whose name was Tristan Bosley, shook his dark red head soulfully.

“I’m not sure,” he confessed.

Gabby furiously clenched her teeth. “What do you mean you’re not sure?” she hissed. “I am being accused of murdering a man!”

Tristan sighed and shook his head, as if trying to instill sense into his mind.

Gabriella had no hope that it worked. “There is no proof that I killed him! I called 9-1-1 after everything that happened! I would have killed him—”

“Now wait a second,” Tristan said nervously, glancing up at the one-way glass as if he was worried someone might be listening in on their conversation.

It's a privileged conversation, idiot! Gabby wanted to yell at him. No one is eavesdropping.

“Don’t go around telling people you would have killed him,” the young attorney insisted. “That will not bode well for you in a courtroom.”

Gabriella realized that she was in a never-ending nightmare. She began to laugh.

This is all a bad dream—the mayor, the scandal, leaving New York, all of it. I am going to wake up any minute and be in my Upper East Side apartment, cursing my alarm clock. I will make a double espresso, call Victor, and laugh about it before going to a shoot for Vogue.

She looked at Tristan, her eyes bright with near-mad amusement, but his expression was caked in concern.

“I will see about having a doctor examine you,” he said, rising as if very uncomfortable in his chair. He seemed to read her proximity to cracking under the pressure.

“I’m not hurt,” she snapped. “The bastard missed me, thankfully.”

Tristan swallowed quickly as he gathered his paperwork. “I’m not talking about a physical examination,” he muttered, and it took Gabby a long minute to understand what he meant.

“I am not insane!” she shrieked after him. “It really happened that way!”

Tristan disappeared, leaving Gabriella to stare at her hands in misery.

I went from international supermodel to convict in a month. I am about to be evaluated by a psychiatrist. Maybe it is just time to accept that I truly am insane.

Cameron watched the adolescent-looking lawyer scurry from the stationhouse.

He doesn’t seem too confident, he thought worriedly, but he wasn’t sure what else he should have expected. The kid had his work cut out for him. He turned toward the interrogation room where Gabriella sat, waiting to be transported back to her cell.

“I can take her,” an officer volunteered, but Cameron shook his head.

“No,” he said. He paused and turned to the squad. “I want you all to listen to me.” The men stopped talking long enough to address their superior. “No one goes near the girl without my express consent,” he told them. “I will handle Grace Kelly alone. You are to work on witnesses and the crime scene. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a brief silence, but slowly a murmur of acknowledgement flittered through the room as they agreed to his orders.

“I want you working day and night on this,” he continued. “There is a potential killer running around out there.”

“Oh, come on, Cam, you know the girl did it,” another officer grumbled. “We’re wasting good manpower on what will soon be a closed case.”

“Do you have something else to do?” Cam asked conversationally. “Until she is found guilty, this is an active case. No forensic evidence ties her to the killing, and there is a chance she could be telling the truth. Stranger things have happened in this town.”

The sheriff could feel Jasper Brewer staring coldly at him.

Why would you remind them of the similarities? Jasper asked silently. Cam’s head whipped around and he locked gazes with the older man.

Silently, Cameron replied, Are you questioning me? There was no further comment from Brewer and Cameron spun to deal with Gabriella in the interrogation room.

She seemed to have shrunk into half the size he remembered her as she sat in the cold steel chair. It was not surprising; Cameron had seen hardened criminals become reduced to puddles of their former selves in police custody. It was no place for a gorgeous, sensitive woman, who also happened to be innocent.

“Let’s go,” he told her as he entered, but she didn’t immediately respond. She did not seem to notice that he had entered the room at all, and she continued to stare blankly at the table. Cameron wondered what she was thinking.

Probably the same thing I am, he thought. How the hell are we going to get her out of this mess?

“Why do you hate me so much?”

The question took him by surprise, and he arched a dark eyebrow.

“Hate you?” he echoed, glancing behind him into the corridor. He stepped further into the room and closed the door. “Why do you think I hate you?”

Gabriella laughed mirthlessly and threw her hands up.

“If this is love, I would hate to see how you treat people you don’t like,” she replied sarcastically. “What am I doing here? You have to know that none of the evidence points to me having killed that man. He had a gun. You found it. You saw the bullet holes. He was shooting at me.”

“You have a very good case for self-defense,” Cameron told her urgently, collapsing into a chair before her. “Is that what happened? You stabbed him somehow when he was coming after you?”

“I wish,” Gabriella sighed. She peered at him helplessly. “Never mind,” she told him. “I know you’re just doing your job. If I were you, I would think I did it, too.”

Cameron clenched his teeth together so that he could stop himself from telling her what he really thought: he had made a mistake arresting her.

She is going to spend the rest of her life in prison because you acted rashly. You could have shot him, stepped into that apartment as a policeman, not in Lycan form, but you let your anger overcome you.

He did not want to think about why he had allowed for the transition to occur; the truth was disturbing to him.

It’s your fault she’s in this position. You have to do something to fix it and fast. They’re transferring her to Montana Women’s Prison tomorrow after her arraignment.

“Will you be able to make bail?” he asked, and Gabriella’s jaw clenched. She eyed him as if considering asking him something.

“I have the money,” she finally answered. “But I can’t access it without anyone finding out where I am. I guess I’ll be rotting in prison until my trial date.”

Cameron studied her beautiful face, his heart thumping wildly.

“I can get it to you without having it traced back to Great Falls,” he told her quietly.

Gabriella snorted aloud.

“Oh yeah? Sure, I’ll give you access to my bank accounts, no problem. You’re the reason I’m here in the first place,” she reminded him. “Why the hell would you help me unless there’s something in it for you?”

Cameron did not have an answer for her. He forced an expression of hardness onto his face and rose.

“You may not believe this, Miss Medina, but I do want to help you. I don’t think you’re a bad woman. I just think you got caught up in something you can’t get out of. Let’s get back to your cell.”

Reluctantly, she rose to her feet, her wide dark eyes fastened on his face.

“None of this is my doing,” she told him in a low voice as they exited the blue-grey room. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Cameron wondered if she meant the murder or the scandal she had left behind in New York.

The previous night, unable to rest his racing mind, Cameron had looked up the newcomer on the internet, wanting to learn more about her. He refused to address the fact that he had an infatuation with the girl, but as the evening turned to night, he found himself pouring over hundreds on pictures of her online.

She is more beautiful in person, he thought, staring at her liquid eyes through the computer screen.

Cameron had met his fair share of attractive women over the years. He was the sheriff, after all. There was no shortage of women throwing themselves at him, yearning to be near his smoldering good looks and aura of power. Yet Cameron knew the dangers of involving himself with anyone outside his pack, and he had never crossed that line—until Gabriella had come along.

What inspired me to watch her? Was it to keep her safe or because I feel drawn to her?

He would never know, but his actions had spoken volumes. Since the night of the dream, he had known there was something compelling him toward Gabriella, a force he could not deny.

He secured the bars of her holding cell and cast her one last glance before turning away.

“Wait!” Gabriella called out desperately. “What will happen tomorrow?”

Slowly, he turned back to face her, reading the dread and panic in her face.

“You will be called before a judge who will hear the case. Your lawyer should have explained all this to you.”

“My lawyer is an idiot,” she sighed. “What does the judge decide?”

“He’ll discuss bail with the prosecutor and your attorney. Then you will be taken to Montana Women’s Prison in Billings until your bail is paid or until your trial date, which will also be set tomorrow.”

“How far away is Billings?” she demanded, her face growing pale as she realized she would be taken away from Great Falls.

“Three and a half hours.”

Gabriella’s face turned snow white, and for a moment, Cameron was sure she was going to faint.

“How long does it take to get bail posted?” she gasped, the thought of entering a building filled with caged women obviously terrifying her.

“You can post bail any time. If you have someone to do it, you won’t even need to get on a bus. You’ll be held in the courthouse pen until transport.”

They stared at one another, and Cameron felt his pulse quicken as Gabriella began to nod slowly.

“Will you be there tomorrow?” she whispered.

He stared at her.

No! You must not be there tomorrow, he told himself. You’re trying to cast suspicion away from the pack. You cannot afford to tie yourself up in this any more than you already have. You should not have volunteered to access her money. And if she is granted bail, she’ll be back on the streets with a potential target on her back. She can’t go home. The women’s prison is the best place for her. It’s got other dangers, but at least she’ll be alive.

“Sheriff?” she called plaintively, and he shifted his gaze away.

“Yes, I will be there for your arraignment,” he told her.

He saw relief flood her face, and she reached a slender hand through the bars to gesture for him to come closer.

“All of the information to my accounts is in a portable safe in my bedroom bathroom, beneath the false bottom of the sink cabinet. The code is 1819. I have no idea how much you’ll need, but I can sign over power of attorney to you, provided you ensure I am not traced back to this town.”

Her eyes were pleading and wide, her hand outstretched as if yearning for contact. He could read the terror in her face.

“This is very important to me,” she muttered. “Do you think you can help me while keeping me protected? I have a feeling that the guy in my house was sent from someone in New York. It is not just about me hiding from a mess I left back there. It’s about my life being in danger.”

Gabriella had not needed to tell him that; he had figured as much, but he did not want to say anything until he had concrete proof to his claim.

After scrolling through interviews and red-carpet strolls, Cameron had come across the situation with New York City’s mayor, David Charlotte. The mayor had confessed to the affair after pictures had emerged with him and an unknown brunette. He immediately claimed his lover to be the world-renowned model, Gabriella Medina. The model had vehemently denied any such tryst had occurred, but her word was not accepted and the media had turned on her overnight. She had become a laughingstock, a pariah, scorned by all avenues of society and dropped from some of her more family-oriented assignments.

It’s no wonder she hid in Montana, he thought grimly. Cameron tried not to judge the girl for her past mistakes, but that one was difficult to overlook. She had almost ruined a man’s career and family without even having the decency to admit her fault. Of course, it takes two to tango. The mayor wasn’t innocent in the situation. Still, it didn’t give anyone the right to threaten her life, and Cameron intended to learn who had sent out the order for her demise.

“I understand,” Cameron told her earnestly, again turning away from the cell. The other officers were watching him on camera, but he cared less than he had before.

My job is to serve and protect, and I will do it for anyone as I am sworn to do, he thought firmly. He owed no one an explanation for anything.

As he left the stationhouse and headed toward Gabriella’s home, he wondered, then, why he felt so guilty.

Probably because what I am doing is highly illegal, he reasoned. He pressed harder on the gas. There wasn’t much time to do what he had to do.