He looks around, and lowers his voice. "He put a drug called methyl iodide in my mother's coffee. It made it look like she had a stroke."

I take a step back, then another, and then another, and suddenly he's holding me by the arms, holding me up. He pulls me to him off the path and I sink against the tree and sit down between the roots. Hawk lowers himself next to me and I sit there and hug myself.

"Why... you didn't say anything?"

"He caught me on his computer. We fought. He told me to leave town. I told him to go f.u.c.k himself. I was going to kill him. Then..."

"What?"

"You. He said if I didt anything he'd hurt you. He didn't say what he'd do but he said he had friends that would like to... do things... to you. You, Alex. I don't care what happens to me. If something happened to you, I'd die. I'd rather cut out my own heart."

My throat is dry as a bone.

"If... if you'd known where I was, would you have come for me?"

"Yes."

He says it immediately, without hesitation, without reservation. He grabs my hand and squeezes, and a bright brilliant burning part of me wants to throw my arms around him right now, but another part goes cold, and I pull my hand out of his.

"I don't know if I can do it," I say, softly. "It hurt me, Hawk. What they did. It hurt me here." I touch my chest. "I still have feelings for you, I think, but I can't..."

I trail off.

He pulls his hand back and leans on his knees.

"Will you tell me what happened? Why they committed you?"

"I didn't do anything wrong," I blurt out, choking down a sob. "I didn't!"

"Alex, I know you didn't do anything-"

"I mean I didn't do anything. I don't know why. I was home for winter break and I was living with them because mom moved in and gave up the apartment." It just spills out of me in a single breath. "Tom was in his office talking to some guy about shipments or clearing customs or something, and he said something about... about whales?" I clutch my head. "I can't remember. The drugs make it all fuzzy."

By the end I'm whimpering.

Lightly, gingerly, Hawk puts his arm around me and pulls me to him. I bury my face in his chest and choke down my sobs.

"It's okay, Alex."

"It's not okay. It'll never be okay. I still have dreams about that place. Sometimes I wake up and I think I'm still there and this is all a dream. I'm still trapped on the bed and I can feel that knife on my leg and any second it's going to start sawing and..."

"It's okay, I'll never let-"

"I have worse dreams. They have me strapped down and it's May. She's in the bed next to mine and they're injecting her with something and she starts screaming. Sometimes I wake up and I can't... I can't move."

His arms tighten around me.

"I'm going to kill him."

"What?"

"I'll rip out his throat with my bare hands."

"You can't." I'm holding him back, now. "They'll take you away again. I can't go through that again. You can't leave me. Ever."

I pull away from him. He lets go, only reluctantly, and I sit back against the tree. He reaches over and sets his palm against my cheek, brushes the tear away with his thumb. The calloused, tough skin of his hand is rough against my cheek. I lean into his touch, rub my cheek against his hand.

"Before you left," I say, very calmly. "I was going to, uh, make a move. Tell you how I felt."

"How did you feel?"

I can't say it. Three little words and I can't say it. It catches in my throat and makes tears leak from my eyes. I want to, but something won't let me.

"I feel the same way now I did then," he says.

The world turns blurry as my eyes water. I pull up my shirt and use it to scrub at my tears, but not too hard; I don't want to look like I've been crying when I get home.

"I can't stay away too long," I sigh. "My runs don't usually last this long. I need to get back."

"I know. We can't be seen together. You go on ahead."

"Are you going to follow me?"

"Yes. Just to keep an eye on you."

I manage to stand up, slowly.

When I start to run I don't look back.

Not because I don't want to, because I don't have to.

G.o.d I hate myself.

How many days, months, years praying for Hawk to come back? For him to show up and save me?

I meant what I said. I want it to be like it was. I ache for it with every fiber of my being, long for it down to the marrow of my bones. I would give anything, anything, to go back to that water park, back to that bus, just to feel that way again. I want the world I was supposed to have, not this h.e.l.l.

I run.

It takes maybe fifteen minutes to get back to the house. By then I've run myself out, I'm totally winded, breathing hard in ragged heaves as I walk back up the porch steps, slip in through the back door and start upstairs.

As I pa.s.s through the kitchen, the office door opens and I scurry upstairs, a fright pa.s.sing through me like an electric shock.

I hear Tom's voice.

"Thank you again, Eli. We'll be starting soon."

No answer to that, whoever Eli is, I can't hear his voice. I hear footsteps, though, and see a man in what looks like an Amish getup walk through the foyer, Tom at his back. By the time they open the door for Tom's guest to leave, I'm already in my room, the door locked. I wait a good ten minutes before I grab my robe and head into the bathroom for a quick shower.

When I step out, Tom is coming up the stairs.

I feel sick. His gaze is like a rotten banana peel on my skin. Not that I'm showing much, but just the way his eyes rake over my calves and my chest before I squeeze the collar around my throat makes me want to scream.

"There you are. Enjoy your morning run?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm going to need you today. We'll be working weekends and pulling a few all-nighters as the campaign heats up."

I nod. "I'll get dressed."

As I grasp my doork.n.o.b he says, "Has Howard spoken to you at all?"

It feels like I just swallowed an ice cube and it's stuck in my throat.

"No, sir. Not at all."

He eyes me for a moment, then smiles, nods, and walks down the stairs.

"You're always such a reliable young woman, Alexis. I hope you enjoy working with me as I much as I enjoy working with you."

There's a leering edge to his voice that's like a finger tracing down my back, and I rush into my room before he gets low enough down the stairs to look up my robe. I lock the door and sit on the bed and try to focus, but the world goes blurry again.

What the f.u.c.k am I doing? I should be getting May to pack her things and we should go with Hawk right now, I don't care how old she is. He came back to save me and now I won't let him.

What's wrong with me?

I have to dress professionally. That means as much as it disgusts me, I have to put on a pencil skirt. Tom prefers I wear those. I buy the longest ones I can, so they go past my knees, but I still feel uncomfortable wearing something so tight around my a.s.s. I usually wear a blazer to cover up as much as I can, over a loose blouse. I b.u.t.ton this one to my neck and pull my hair into a ponytail, slip on ballet flats (he keeps buying me shoes but I am not sitting around in his office wearing red f.u.c.k-me pumps.) Then I head downstairs.

The office door is open, and he's waiting inside, but not at his desk. He's slipping something into his attache case, which he then hands off to me. I take it and step back by the door.

"We're going to meet with a campaign supporter," he says, smirking at me. "You look lovely today, Alexis."

"Thank you," I manage to say without sounding like I want to puke.

My stepfather, man of the people, drives an old Ford pickup when it suits him. Today it suits him to take the Mercedes. Like a perfect gentlemen, he opens the door for me, and rakes my legs with his eyes. Before he gets in, I tug the hem down over my knees, for all the good that will do.

"Who are we meeting?"

"An old friend. We need to talk, Alexis."

I try not to react to that.

As he pulls out onto the road he says, "You need to understand I've essentially been tapped on the shoulder. There's been a lot of commotion lately in our political landscape. Someone has to step up. Mayor of this town is only the first step on a path that's going to lead to high office."

"High office?"

"State level, such as governor, possibly senator."

"Because the Katzenbergs went to prison?"

"Partly, yes. The interim mayor serving now isn't quite right for the role."

"You sound very confident."

He smiles at that, and glances at me. "Aren't you hot, b.u.t.toned up to the neck like that?"

"I'm fine."

He turns the air conditioning all the way up. With it blasting on my bare legs, I start to shiver.

"Cold?"

"I'm all right."

He drives, humming to himself. Then he says, "You realize this represents an opportunity for you."

"Me?"

"Politics is often a family affair, Alexis, and I'll be blunt: My youngest son is a jacka.s.s, the best I can manage for him is damage control. My eldest is a walking PR nightmare and has no sense of well, anything. You, though, you've been the daughter I never had. I can't tell you how proud I am of how you've come around."

Just the idea makes me sick. I glance in the rearview mirror to make sure I haven't turned green.

"When I move up, it'll open s.p.a.ces below me. I think we'll start you off with an appointed position first. I'll have you working in my office in some capacity. Something important, so you'll look qualified later on to run for mayor yourself."

"Me?" I squeak out.

"You. I'll need someone I can trust here if we're going to establish ourselves as a proper political family. That's what my grandfather always wanted, you see. Back when there was coal and logging, he saw that politics was the proper avenue for people like us."

"Oh."

"Of course, you're not of my family, but that doesn't matter. I've been trying with your mother. She's still young enough, but it doesn't seem to be working."

Oh G.o.d, I didn't need to hear that. I took health, I know what he means by trying.

"So I'm putting all my hopes on you."

I swallow.

"That means a lot to me."

I look over at him and feel like someone slipped an ice cube down my top. This man killed his own wife, horrifically, for some reason. Was it because he wanted my mother? I thought he hated us. I never even knew they were involved.

"Ah," he says, "We're here."

He turns off the road into the parking lot of one of the restaurants on the east side of the river. This one has a big open porch that overlooks the water. I think Tom owns a stake in it; he's tied up in half the real estate in Paradise Falls.

"Let's go inside and meet them. Be on your best behavior, sweetheart. These men are going to make you mayor one day, or better. All you have to do is keep being my good girl."