I had the mother of all headaches when I woke up.

It pounded at the base of my skull, radiating upward and spreading its jagged, sharp fingers through my brain matter like poison.

Dragging myself into the bathroom, I made a straight line for the shower, not even bothering to turn the lights on.

Lights were painful.

Sound was painful.

Very few things weren’t painful just then.

I had every intention of trying to drown myself under the crisscrossing multiple jets of the luxurious shower, and if I didn’t succeed on the first try, I’d just give it another go. Anything to make this pain in my head stop.

I had barely slept. I’d never wanted a Rite-Aid or Walgreens as badly as I had last night, but the twenty-four-hour pharmacy was a construct that wouldn’t come to be for a good long time.

Fortunately, though, the hot shower eased the edge of the headache back, and when I made my way downstairs, I caught the scent of life-saving coffee lingering in the air.

Harrison was waiting in the kitchen with a smile and a cup already poured.

“You’re my hero,” I said, accepting the cup with a thankful smile.

“You tell me that three times a week.” He chuckled, but before I could tell him I meant it every time, there was a knock at the door. He left me to enjoy the elixir of life and I leaned against the counter, breathing in the scent as I slowly sipped from the brew.

He returned less than a minute later and his face was taut with tension, an expression I wasn’t used to seeing on his features.

“Miss Cruz.”

I pushed away from the counter. “What’s…?”

The rest of my question died as he stepped further into the room, revealing who stood at his back.

The cup fell from numb hands, hot coffee and shards of ceramic splattering on my bare feet as the cup shattered.

The pain hit a moment later, but the sight of Glenn overwhelmed it, turning the shock and hurt into an afterthought.

“Glenn.”

“Miss Cruz!” Harrison came rushing to me.

Confused, I looked over at him.

I went to take a step.

“Be still!” Glenn snapped at me, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard it. It startled me into complete motionlessness.

Confused, I looked up, watching as he came striding toward me. He jerked me unceremoniously into his arms, dumping me over his shoulder. “Hey!”

He ignored me.

“Mr. Jackson—” I heard Harrison’s voice over the sound of blood roaring in my ears.

“She’s going to cut her feet, Harrison. Can you get that mess cleaned up?”

“Of course. But you needn’t carry her upside down.” The tension in Harrison’s voice was clear even to me.

Cut my feet…?

Glenn spun around and moved across the kitchen, before dumping me in a chair.

My head caught up with everything happening. I’d dropped the cup of coffee. The cup broke. I had a few small cuts—and probably a few burns from the hot liquid. My legs and feet were stinging, and there were a few small cuts on my feet and lower legs.

Feeling like an idiot, I focused on Harrison as he squatted on the floor in his impeccable black suit and sopped up the black brew. “I’m sorry, Harrison. I’m always causing you more work.”

“Nonsense, Miss Cruz. Give me just a moment and we’ll see about getting you looked at.” He gave me a warm smile, but as he straightened, hands full of rags, his eyes lingered on Glenn for just a moment.

“I’ll take care of it, Harrison,” Glenn said, his eyes on me. “Maya and I have some catching up to do.”

My mouth went dry.

The expression in Glenn’s eyes wasn’t a happy one.

I sat silently as he used a hand towel to wipe the coffee from my ankles and feet and dab away the few streaks of blood. He wasn’t rough, but there was no gentleness in his touch either.

“How bad do the burns hurt?” he asked, little sign of emotion in his voice.

“They sting. I’m fine.” Unable to continue sitting, I got up. Nothing had gotten to the soles of my feet, so walking wasn’t a problem. Thankful for that, I started toward the back door. “I assume you’re here to talk to me.”

“You assume correctly. Since you couldn’t be bothered to come find me.”

The caustic bite in his voice was like a slap, but I didn’t let it show. “I was going to try to contact you tomorrow.” I’d made that decision last night. “But if you must know, you were the first person I tried to find. You weren’t at the house. And Peter wouldn’t help me.”

Once I was outside—and far enough away that I couldn’t feel the heat of him against my back—I turned to look at him.

He was staring at me as if we were strangers, as if he’d never touched me, never wanted me, never loved me.

I could have handled the anger, but that distance in his eyes hurt. I’d rather he yelled. I’d almost rather he struck me.

“Why did you leave?” A muscle pulsed in his cheek, the only indicator that he felt anything.

“I…” Breaths hitched in my chest. “I didn’t leave—not like you think. I…look, I didn’t have any control over it, okay?”

“No. It’s not okay. You’re alive, so clearly somebody didn’t kill you.

Something sick twisted inside me. “Would that have made it better for you? Is that what you had been hoping for? That I’d been killed?”

“Of course not.”

He said nothing else for a moment and I pressed a hand to my belly as that feeling of sickness worsened. “No. I wasn’t killed but I was kidnapped…” My voice cracked as I prepared myself to tell that same story.

“Bullshit.” He hurled the word at me and it was so full of rage, so full of hate that I flinched. “I don’t want to hear whatever crazy story you made up. What’s the truth, Maya? Are you married? Were you just out here for a fling and you decided to go back home?”

“What?” I gaped at him. “Married? Are you nuts?”

“It’s kind of funny that you disappeared right after I proposed.”

“I’m not married. If you would just listen…”

“To your lies?!” he shouted. He came up, snarling down at me, and the sheer power of the fury in his voice, in his eyes was enough to leave me shaking. “I don’t want to hear your lies. I want the truth.”

I shivered, wrapping my arms around my middle and turning away. “You just don’t want to hear me,” I said softly. “You made up your mind before you even came here, Glenn.”

Hard hands came down on my shoulders and he spun me back to face him. “Are you going to tell me that you didn’t just disappear on me in the middle of the night, without a word, without thinking about what you did to me?!”

“I didn’t just disappear!” I shouted, my own temper finally snapping. “I didn’t want any of that to happen and I’ve felt empty ever since I woke up and you weren’t there! But you don’t want to talk, you don’t want to listen! You just want to yell and snarl at me!”

“You…” He backed away, shaking his head. “You think I should listen to you after what you did to me?”

To my horror, my lower lip started to tremble. I was going to cry, damn it. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not when he was yelling and blaming me for something I had no control over.

Tears burned my eyes and I shook my head. “Just leave me alone,” I whispered, broken inside. “All I’ve wanted was to get back to you, and when I finally managed to do it, this is what you’re doing.”

“You’re going to cry, like you are the one who got fucked over?” Glenn gaped at me. “You’ve got some serious fucking nerve.”

“Leave me alone!”

“I don’t—”

“Mr. Jackson, that’s quite enough.” Harrison’s calm voice came from the doorway.

“This is none of your damn business, Harrison,” Glenn snarled.

“On the contrary, you’re a guest, here in the home of my employer. It is my responsibility to make sure those who are on the property are not ill-treated. You will not speak to a lady in such a manner while in Ms. Woods’ home. Please leave or I’ll have to fetch Mr. Conde, and he’ll either escort you out or contact the authorities.”

I was shaking by the time Harrison finished.

Crying by the time the door slammed.

And when Harrison came up and tentatively touched my shoulder, I flung myself at him, crying in a way I hadn’t cried since I’d arrived back in 1965.