I lay in bed, my back to Brent as he breathed the deep breaths of the sleeping. I rubbed my wrists, still able to feel the creases forced into them from the plastic ties that had bound them together. My body ached from fighting Trigger, my ass burning in the places where he’d scratched my skin. I would have his mark on me for a few days, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever lose the scars he’d put on my memories.

It had been explained to me that someone had come across the two guards in the lobby, drugged and dragged into a storeroom. That person called Jack, who immediately checked security footage on his laptop. That led them to the footage of my kidnapping and then to the Mad Dog clubhouse.

There was a celebration at Stone Security when it was all said and done, when the police had finished dragging half the Mad Dog club members to jail, including Trigger. He’d admitted to stalking and attacking Rachel and the other girls—including me on the elevator at the hotel, footage that Jack and Brent had enhanced and delivered to the police. He’d be going away for a long time, a success that the Stone brothers had every right to celebrate with their employees.

But I wasn’t in the mood for such a celebration and Brent could see it.

He brought me back to the hotel, making vague excuses to his brother, his friends, and colleagues. He ordered some room service and encouraged me to eat, constantly whispering words of encouragement. All I wanted was a hot shower and a bed, but even that didn’t seem to be right.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my head refusing to turn itself off.

I got up and silently searched through the bag Brent had brought from his house, pulling out the pistol he’d stashed there. A quick check of the magazine revealed that it was still loaded, a round still in the chamber.

I went out to the balcony that overlooked downtown Memphis and held the gun in my hands, my thoughts so many and varied that I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around them all. My nightmare was over, but a part of me felt as though it was just beginning.

Curtis was gone, but his legacy of abuse would never leave.

Trigger was on his way to jail, but that would never erase what he’d done to Rachel, what he had begun to do to me.

I was done with the Highland Club, but I would forever wear the stain of working just a step above prostitution.

I had a felony and two more years of parole to work off.

I had a family I abandoned five years ago, a family who, for all I knew, no longer wanted anything to do with me.

And Rachel was still in a coma, still fighting for her life.

When it was laid out that way, it all looked really, really bad. It described a woman I refused to believe I was. But wasn’t that all the world would forever see of me? Wasn’t that all I would ever be?

I ran my hand along the cool metal of the gun’s butt, feeling the texture of the grip, the precision of the design. Was this how it felt to him all those nights after Madeline and Josie died? Was this what he did those nights, how he contemplated his future without them? Was his despair this palpable?

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the image that came to me, eyes opened and closed. I couldn’t stand the idea of him in such pain.

For the second time tonight, hands touched mine out of the darkness, hands coming to rescue me when I thought all chance of rescue had gone.

“What are you doing out here, Dane?”

I opened my eyes to find Brent on his knees in front of me, his hands slipping the gun from mine.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“You should have woken me up.”

I shook my head. “You need your rest.”

“So do you.” He pulled the gun away and set it on the floor of the balcony behind him before taking my hands in his. He kissed my palm as he looked up at me. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was just thinking about you. Thinking about that day in your house.”

“What about it?”

“I was thinking about what you said, about how you contemplate suicide every night.”

He tilted his head, a muscle in his temple flexing as he studied me. “Not anymore.”

“But you did.”

“I didn’t think of it that way. I thought of it as a way to be with my family again.”

Tears filled my eyes. I leaned my head back, blinking quickly to rid myself of them. He squeezed my hands, tugging them lightly to get my attention.

“I won’t lie to you, Dane. I won’t put a good spin on things to make them easier to swallow. But I won’t have you out here in that sort of misery, either.”

My head jerked down. I snorted as I pulled my hands from his.

“Is that what you think?”

“What else would I think, coming out here to find you with that gun in your lap?”

“I was keeping it from you, you idiot!” I smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t want to leave the room and leave you alone with a gun!”

“Then you weren’t—”

“I was just trying to get a little fresh air, to process some of what happened tonight.”

Relief washed over him, taking some of the steel out of his spine. He fell back on his ass, pretending he’d done it on purpose by curling his legs up in front of him.

“I was just…it’s over now, right?”

“Everything’s over now.”

“No more Curtis, no more Trigger. No more danger.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then it’s time to decide what I’m going to do now.”

“You don’t have to decide tonight.”

I leaned forward on my knees, resting my chin in my palm as I watched him. He was watching me, both of us clearly trying to figure out what did come next. Did we stay together? Did we split apart? Did we have this wonderful relationship, or would the bubble burst now that the danger was over? I could see these questions dancing in his eyes and knew he could see the same in mine.

But he was right. We didn’t have to decide tonight. Except that I’d put off this decision for years. There was no reason to wait, either.

“I spoke to my parole officer the other day. She says I can transfer my parole to Connecticut.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Are you thinking about it?”

“I wasn’t until she mentioned it. But she thinks I’ve done well enough the last few years that it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“It probably wouldn’t be, not if you had a good lawyer working on your behalf.”

I nodded. “I’d like to see my family. We haven’t talked in years and I’m…I don’t even know if they’d want me around.”

“I’m sure they would.”

“But…the University of Memphis has a really good nursing program.”

“I’ve heard that.”

I smacked his shoulder and he jerked back a little.

“What was that for?”

“You can’t agree with everything I say!”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

I jumped to my feet and began to pace the length of the balcony, not even seeing the spectacular display of lights below me. All I could think about was how badly I wanted him to tell me that he wanted me to stay. But even when he stood, even when he touched me—surprising me, causing me to tense so sharply that he let go as quickly as he reached for me—he didn’t say it. All he said was, “There’s time to figure all this out.”

I slept this time when he took me to bed. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. I had nightmares, dreams in which Trigger played a big role. Or sometimes it was Curtis, his face transposed onto Trigger’s body. It was creepy, these dreams, and they caused me to wake in a cold sweat. I reached for Brent, but he wasn’t there and my mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario: he’d gone and left me once and for all.

But that fear only lasted for a moment. And then I could hear his voice coming to me through the closed bedroom door.

I got up and wandered out into the sitting room, wondering if the heavy bathrobe I’d pulled on was enough to protect me from the curious looks of some anonymous employee. But he was alone, speaking into a cell phone as he stood at the balcony doors. He must have heard me come into the room because he turned, a smile on that gorgeous face.

“Yes, I’ll let her know. Thank you for calling.”

“Let who know what?”

“Let you know that Rachel’s waking up.”

He reached for me, but I stepped back almost involuntarily and immediately regretted it for the hurt that erupted in his eyes.

*

It took a while, this waking from a coma process. It wasn’t like on television when a patient just suddenly opened their eyes after months or years. It was a painfully slow process that took the better part of three weeks. It was mostly changes on the EKG, changes that only the specialist Brent had called in could read. He’d changed some of her medications, did some tests and a small surgical procedure, and then it was like the whole mood of the fifth floor of the hospital had suddenly shifted. Everyone was smiling, the nurses careful what they said in front of Rachel where they had been completely indifferent before.

And then came that Sunday afternoon. I was sitting beside her bed, her hand tucked in mine, talking about Brent, as I usually was.

“He tells me that Jack’s Raelyn is coming back. Apparently Jack doesn’t know, but Brent oversees the Human Resources department and he saw her name on a list of applicants coming in to interview for a secretarial job. It’s still a few weeks away, but he’s excited. He seems to think this woman is really good for his brother. Personally, I think he has something of a crush on her.”

I sighed, thinking about the light that came into his eyes when he talked about her.

“He talks about her personality, how she’s a firecracker. I think I heard him say the same thing about me once. It makes me wonder if Jack hadn’t snatched this girl up…”

“Don’t be silly.”

I looked up and Rachel was watching me, a weak smile on her lips that was much stronger in the light in her eyes.

“Rachel?”

“You,” she said softly, touching a finger to my palm. “Only you.”

I laughed. How many times had I imagined her side of a conversation? And there she was, saying exactly what I imagined she would say.

Rachel was back!

They ran a million tests on her and insisted that she would need months of rehab, but she was back and there was little to no significant deficit from the injury. She was going to be okay.

I couldn’t even begin to express how relieved I was.

“You’re not really thinking about moving back to Connecticut, are you?” she asked me a couple of weeks later while we were playing cards in her hospital room.

“I don’t know. I’d like to see my parents.”

“There’s a difference between visiting and moving.”

“I know.”

“What about school? Haven’t you begun taking classes?”

“I’m registered, but they don’t start for another week.”

“So take that week to go see your parents, then come back and get on with your life. And go tell that man that you demand some sort of commitment!”

I groaned. “I don’t think Brent would take an ultimatum very well.”

“It’s all in the presentation, sweetheart.”

I laughed even as her chosen term of endearment made my stomach twist in on itself.

That was one thing Trigger had taken from me. What else was there? What other potholes had he left in the road for me? How many things that were meant to be innocent would I trip over because of what he did to me?

My life was never going to be normal. I was never going to be a carefree, naïve woman again. Brent deserved so much better than that.