Marco forced his gaze to the officer standing at his side. "Of course."

Every one of the thirty minutes he was separated from Alyssa made Marco's heart hurt and his gut squeeze. His arms ached for the feel of her. What if he'd been too late?

He forced the question from his mind and stood watch from a distance as two cops questioned Alyssa, who was sitting on the back of the open ambulance with a blanket around her shoulders. From there, she appeared calm and confident as she answered the officers' questions, but he knew her well enough to read the set of her shoulders and the dull cast of her eyes.

Van stepped up beside him. "You okay?"

Marco met the guy's serious gaze. "Shit, I don't know."

The other man looked at him for a long moment. "You realize how deep she's into you, right?"

A thousand answers, some flippant, some indignant, flew through Marco's mind. He settled on good old-fashioned honesty and gave a single nod.

Van's eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a line. Marco got the message, even though the other man never voiced it. Be good to her. Do right by her. Don't be the pissed-off, closed-down asshole you are to the rest of us-not with her.

Marco turned back to find Alyssa pushing the blanket off her shoulders and rising.

He crossed the lot to her, unable to stay away for one more second.

Alyssa had never felt more lost and alone than she did standing there in the middle of that crowded parking lot.

She couldn't stop shivering. Her body ached. Humiliation and a bone-deep exhaustion weighed her down. The smell of Trent's aftershave and the phantom grip of his hands were all over her skin.

"Alyssa?"

She turned toward the voice and found Eric standing off to the side of the ambulance.

"Hey," she said, not quite able to make eye contact.

"I grabbed these for you." He held out her cell phone and car keys.

She hadn't even realized she'd lost them. "Oh. Thank you." She slipped the phone in her pocket and looped the key ring around her finger.

Eric shifted his feet and cleared his throat. "Um. Are you o-"

"Yeah." She waved him off, not up to telling the truth or putting on a happy face.

An emotion she couldn't identify burned in his eyes. "I could drive you home."

"That's okay. Thanks, though." She forced what she hoped resembled a smile onto her lips.

A big hand settled against the small of her back. She knew who it was without looking, both needing Marco's touch and hating that need. She was grateful beyond belief that he'd shown up when he did, but she didn't want to play the damsel in distress to his white knight. No doubt all this night had done was reaffirm her helplessness to him.

"Everything go all right?" Marco asked, his breath brushing against her ear.

"Yeah. All done."

"Let me know if I can do anything?" Eric asked.

"Yeah. Night."

Marco pulled her into his arms and, though Alyssa knew she shouldn't get used to his comfort or the reassurance of his strong body, she sank into him, as if he could carry the burden of this day for her.

He kissed her hair. "Come home with me."

Numbness made it hard to analyze his words. She didn't know whether to be pleased that he wanted her to come home with him or upset that it was because he thought she needed his help. "I shouldn't," she answered.

He pulled back but not away. "I want you to come home with me."

She searched his face, still unable to read the emotion behind the words. "I'm okay."

"I'm glad to hear it. But I'd still like to take care of you." He released a shaky breath. "I need to take care of you. Not because you can't do it, but because I need...Aly, I need to touch you and see you and prove to myself in a thousand other ways that you're okay, that you're still here with me. That I didn't lose you tonight."

Alyssa's heart skipped at the desperation in Marco's voice. It was the only thing that convinced her his desire didn't stem from obligation. She searched his eyes, seeing the pleading there, too. "Okay."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and walked her to lock up her car.

"Oh, I don't have my purse."

Marco squeezed her hand. "You don't need it for anything tonight. I'll get it for you tomorrow."

Despite her exhaustion, her eyelids remained wide open during the ride to his house. She followed him inside, refusing to let her brain remember what had happened her last morning there.

"Want something to drink?" he asked, guiding her into the kitchen.

"Just some water." He poured her a glass and handed it to her. She took a long sip, but it wasn't enough to remove Trent's taste from her mouth. The clock on the microwave revealed it was nearly three a.m., but a sudden urge rocked through her. "I want to take a shower."

He frowned, watching her. "Of course. You know where everything is?"

"Yeah."

"My house is yours, Alyssa. Make yourself at home."

She turned and fled from the room and the words she knew she was reading too much into. She was too emotional, too tired, too needy to trust her judgment where Marco was concerned.

She fell back against the closed bathroom door and released a long breath. The night's slimy fingers crawled over her skin. Alyssa marched to the shower and wrenched the knob to hot. She couldn't get her clothes off fast enough. The shirt went into the garbage. The bra hit the floor. She tugged at the zipper to her jeans, a cry breaking free when it stuck. She yanked them down over her hips, the rough denim scraping her skin, and kicked them away. She tore her panties off last.

By the time she stepped into the shower, the water had warmed and her tears flowed. She grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed it over every inch of her skin until she felt raw. As she worked to clean the hurt and fear and panic away, small whimpers and cries burst free until she couldn't hold them back any longer.