One thing I’d learned over the past couple of years of my life was that time in jail passed very, very slowly. I’d been watching the second hand on the clock out in the hall tick by, and it seemed to drag by slower each pass until it was almost — almost – comical.

I knew it was my mind playing tricks on me, but that didn’t make it go by any quicker when I told myself to look away. I could even count the seconds in my mind—dragging by just as slow.

I’d been there for hours. Hours. I hadn’t bothered calling Kaleb because I knew it wouldn’t do any good, but part of me kept hoping he would ride in to save the day.

But something told me that wasn’t going to happen this time. I knew he loved me, and I knew he wanted what was best for me, but whatever was going on here, I doubted he’d believe me if I told him I hadn’t done anything wrong.

And I hadn’t. I hadn’t done a damn thing wrong—and least not this time around. Yeah, I’d done plenty wrong in my past, but lately, I’d done nothing but try. All I’d wanted to do since I’d gotten clean was to try to make up for what I’d done.

Tears threatened, but I wouldn’t let them come.

Oh, I would, later. But not in here. That was just begging for trouble, a lesson I’d learned a long time ago.

Nerves sang inside me, but I fought them back, and fought back all the things that came along with it. The urge to scratch at my arms, the need to get up and pace. The physical addictions to the drugs that had been a part of my life for too long were gone now, but I wondered if the emotional need would ever completely fade. Sitting here, in a cell surrounded by people, but completely alone, those urges ate at me like a bunch of angry fire ants.

The itching of my skin got worse as I sat there, yearning for something to make this easier. I would have been happy with just a drink, anything to soothe my nerves.

I told myself not to let my thoughts go that way. Logically, I knew that alcohol and drugs would only dull my senses, and that wouldn’t help me, but a part of me was still tempted by the option to check out for a while.

The cell door opened and the cop there called a name that wasn’t mine. That was all that mattered—it wasn’t me. One of the worst things about sitting in a holding tank, aside from even having to be in one, was that every time the door swung open, a tiny hope sprang up that maybe, maybe, you would be able to walk out. Hope would leap up; hope would die...and then it would start all over again.

I didn’t know why I bothered hoping.

I hadn’t called Kaleb, and I wouldn’t. I hadn’t seen the judge yet, but when I did, I’d have to do it on my own. I had nothing to hide, so I wouldn’t be asking for a lawyer, even though I knew a lot of people would tell me that was foolish.

I refused to do anything that could be taken as a sign of guilt.

Another minute passed.

I wondered if I would still be sane when they finally called me before the judge. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but would they believe me?

“Hey sweetie,” somebody whispered from behind me.

I didn’t turn to look.

I’d already ignored one offer of something to make the time pass by easier although I had no idea how somebody had gotten drugs in here. For all I knew, she’d stashed them in some place I didn’t want to think about. Or she was friendly with one of the cops who turned a blind eye.

Either way, I wasn’t interested.

“You ignoring me or you hard-of-hearing?” she persisted.

“I’m ignoring you,” I said politely. “I’d like to get out of here without making things any worse for myself.”

“Wouldn’t we all, sweetheart? But suit yourself.” I sensed her movement behind me as she got up to go try her luck elsewhere.

Another minute.

Well, that was a plus. Chatting up the local in-house drug dealer had made a full minute pass by.

Now if I could just find a way to fill in all the other minutes...

The door opened again, so soon after the last and I practically jumped up when they called my name this time.

* * *

I found myself in front of a judge almost quicker than I could process what was going on. I still hadn’t made sense of the charges. They were accusing me of breaking into the clinic. I hadn’t.

They said that things had been going missing. They being the cops who’d questioned me. Apparently, last night, when the break-in had happened, they’d found my fingerprints everywhere. I’d told them I worked there, so of course, my fingerprints were there.

Then they’d asked how my clinic keys—one assigned to me, only me and marked—had gotten inside the reception area when that part of the clinic hadn’t been shut down after hours.

I had no idea what they meant.

My key was on my keyring.

But I couldn’t produce my keyring. I’d left it in my purse…at the hotel.

With Jacen.

I hadn’t wanted to bring anything with me since I hadn’t known how long I’d be gone. I’d had cash go missing from me when I’d been taken in before in Vegas.

Isn’t that convenient? The comment from the detective had made me want to scream, because convenient was hardly the way I’d describe any of this.

The detective wasn’t here now.

It was just me and the lawyer who’d introduced himself in the sort of brisk manner that told me he’d done this a million times before. He told me that I’d plead innocent. He didn’t ask if I was innocent, simply told me that I would plead innocent. All their evidence was circumstantial and they were looking at me because of my past.

Did I understand?

Of course, I did.

At my quiet yes, he finally looked up and met my eyes, pausing a moment to look me up and down. He seemed satisfied enough with whatever he saw and gestured to the bathroom.

“Go in there and try to neaten your hair, splash some water on your face. You look like a nice, clean-cut girl. That will help somewhat. Not sure if anything can overcome what the prosecutor is going to lay at your feet, but maybe this way we can at least secure bail. You’ll surrender your passport if asked, I’m assuming.”

“I…yes.” Rising, I went into the bathroom, going through the motions automatically.

At least he’d assumed I had a passport. No one had ever thought to ask me that before.

When I returned, he gave me another once-over, then began firing off questions and making comments. I barely had time to think, much less answer, but somehow, he made use of whatever I gave him.

My head was spinning by the time I ended up in front of the judge, and the only thing that really rang clear was when the judge asked if I was guilty or not. The lawyer nudged me with his elbow when I didn’t respond right away.

“Not guilty,” I replied.

“Your honor, as evidenced by the accused’s past, she’s a flight risk. She has a passport and a wealthy extended family. We ask that she surrender her passport…” Then the lawyer looked down, checked something.

The figure she named off couldn’t possibly be for bail.

But the judge nodded and agreed. I was still gaping when I was led out of there. A wealthy extended family…did they think I’d ask Piety for money to flee the country? And she’d give it?

Seriously?

There was no way I could pay that kind of money.

And I couldn’t ask Kaleb. I wouldn’t. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I refused to drag my brother and his family into it. I would figure something out.

Two more hours passed. When the door swung open, I barely looked up. I assumed, sooner or later, they’d figure out I had nobody to help me make bail and I’d be left alone for the rest of the day.

To my surprise, though, my name was called, and the same male cop who’d taken me to the station jerked his head at me to come with him. “You’re free to go.”

The words didn’t make any sense, and I just stood there, staring at him.

He said it again, then asked, “Do you want to stay here? I realize my company is charming, but the accommodations aren’t all that.”

“Did I make bail?”

He shrugged and gestured for me to follow. “Not my business, not my concern. Come on.”

Exhausted and certain this was some big mistake, I trudged along after him and found myself in another big, white room that had lights too bright and noises too loud. I was directed to a chair and told to sit while a female detective took the chair across from me.

She read off my name and a series of numbers, then began to talk. She kept a few of the sheets of paper in front of her, alternately putting what looked like duplicates in front of me. “Just sign here, here...”

Her words begin to run together, and I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, when she paused to take a breath, I asked, “Did I make bail? Who paid?”

She glanced at me, a surprised look on her face. “The charges have been dropped.”

Less than ten minutes later, I was hustled out of there and into yet another room. But this room was better.

This room had Jacen in it.

I all but fell into his arms, exhausted. I had to fight the urge not to cry. “What are you doing here?”

His arms came around me and he kissed the top of my head. “We’ll talk about it later. I’ve been worried about you. Come on…let’s get you out of here.”

“How did you know which station to come to?” I asked him once we were seated in his car.

As we’d walked out, he’d asked if I wanted anything to eat, if I wanted to go home. I’d told him I didn’t know. I still didn’t. How could I think about eating when people thought I’d broken into the clinic?

“I made a few phone calls.” He had his arm around my neck and I snuggled awkwardly against him.

“How…they said the charges were dropped. How? Did you give me an alibi?”

That made him stiffen, then slowly, he eased away. “No. I didn’t give you an alibi. I actually didn’t have to.”

“What do you mean?”

A dull red flush heated his cheeks. “You’re not going to like this, baby.”

He then pulled something out of his pocket and I looked down. Not comprehending at first, I finally realized it was my phone. “I left that at the hotel.” I shrugged, not thinking about it, but reached for it. “Thanks for bring…”

He watched me take it as he said, “I wasn’t bringing it to you. I brought it to the detective who brought you in. Camry…shit. Look, your brother put a tracker app on it. It shows you weren’t anywhere near the clinic during the time of the break-in. Okay?”

“I…what?” A split second later, what he’d said registered and I said, “No! Not okay. What in the hell do you mean Kaleb put a tracking app on my phone?”

A muscle pulsed in Jacen’s jaw, and he held out his hand. I gave him the phone and he tapped at a few things before handing it back.

The little green dot on it made me sick.

“How could he do this to me?”

Finally, Jacen looked at me, pain in his eyes. “He thinks you’re using again, sweetheart.”

The tears I’d been holding off spilled over. Leaning against Jacen, I buried my face against his chest as the dam broke. But the comfort he offered was short, cut off by a furious knocking at the window.

“Aw, fuck me!” Jacen bellowed.