I tilted my head back further.

"You don't get it," I whispered to him. "I'm okay."

He stared at me and I went on.

"My gallery is burned beyond recognition. I'm estranged from my father. Crazy men are after me. I had the freak out to end all freak outs in front of friends and most of my clients last night but... I'm okay."

I felt his fingers squeeze my neck as I watched his eyes grow warm and I knew mine were the same.

"Finally!" Ralphie cried, Hector and I lost the moment and turned to look at him. "Told her to enjoy the ride, Double H, ages ago. She didn't listen. Finally, she's learning to enjoy the fucking ride!"

I shifted and pressed my side against Hector's front.

His arm curled around my neck.

Then I felt his lips kiss the top of my head.

I mentally pried my hands off the safety bar that was tucked, tight and secure, across my lap and lifted them straight in the air.

"Do you ever file a thing?" Kitty Sue asked Shirleen from her hands and knees on the floor.

Daisy and I were with her, alphabetizing a mountain of paperwork in twenty-six piles across the Nightingale Investigation's reception area.

"It's not in my job description," Shirleen replied from her seat behind the reception desk, currently engaged in the difficult task of painting her nails a frosty grape.

Kitty Sue sat up so she was on her knees, she planted her hands on her hips, twisted to Shirleen and glared.

"You're the receptionist!"

"Yeah? So?" Shirleen asked, not taking her eyes from her nails.

"Receptionists file," Kitty Sue retorted.

"Filing people file. Receptionists answer phones and guard the door," Shirleen returned.

Daisy looked at me and giggled. I pulled my lips between my teeth and tried not to laugh. Kitty Sue didn't look like she thought anything was funny.

"This is my son's livelihood," Kitty Sue said as she got to her feet. "What if he needed something urgently and couldn't find it?"

Shirleen threw her head back and laughed for a long time.

"That's funny," she said (unnecessarily) when she finished laughing.

"What's funny? I'm being serious," Kitty Sue shot back.

Shirleen leveled her amused gaze on Kitty Sue. "I practically gotta chain Lee to his chair to get him to fill out reports, type out notes and whatever other shit he's gotta do. He hates paperwork. All the boys do. Badass mothers get fuckin' grumpy when Shirleen rides their asses to get them to put pen to paper or, worse, fingers to keyboards. If it wasn't for me, our invoices would be six months late goin' out and no one would get paid. Including Shirleen. And Shirleen likes to get paid. I got two growin' boys who eat me out of house and home and are always takin' bitches to the movies and shit like that. I don't get paid, I'm fucked and Roam and Sniff'll look like beggars in front of their babes. Not... gonna... happen."

"Well," the wind, I could tell, had gone out of Kitty Sue's sails, "the least you could do is help us now."

"I will help you," Shirleen replied. "I'll tell you, you missed a pile." And she nodded to a pile of papers at the end of her desk that was at least a foot high.

"Shit," Daisy muttered.

That's when I giggled at the same time the door opened and Ally and Indy walked in, laughing.

I sat back on my calves and smiled at them as they called, "Hey," to everyone.

Not two months ago, I walked into this office feeling the frosty air, knowing they hated me and wishing I was one of them.

Now, I was sitting on the floor, sorting through Lee and The Boy's confidential paperwork, having spent the day getting to know Brody (the computer geek and I mean geek), Monty (the guy who managed the surveillance room where, I was a bit weirded out to see they monitored Fortnum's, which meant my meltdown there was witnessed by even more people than I knew at the time) and Shirleen.

Kitty Sue had come by with lunch. We ate. We chatted. She told me great stories about my Mom that only a best friend would know and she apologized about seven million five hundred thousand times about not "protecting" me throughout my life and not coming to see me after my father was put behind bars.

"I kept trying to figure out how to do it. What I should say," she whispered to me, holding my hand. "I didn't know what to say."

I squeezed her fingers. "It's done now, over. Don't think about it." I blew it off as if it was nothing so she would stop beating herself up and changed the subject. "You told me about my Mom, now will you tell me about Katherine?"

She smiled, let go of my hand, sat back and told me great stories about Katherine.

Later, Daisy came around, Kitty Sue spied the paperwork and we all got busy.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Ally asked, staring at the papers all over the floor.

"Filing," I answered.

Indy turned to Shirleen. "I thought that was your job."

"Do I look like a file clerk to you?" Shirleen's eyes narrowed, clearly becoming frustrated with this topic.

"You're sitting behind a receptionist desk," Indy returned.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this anymore," I cut in, trying to help.

"Does Lee know you don't do the filing?" Indy, apparently, didn't need my help.

Shirleen grinned. "That's it. You talk to Lee about paperwork. You give him lip about paperwork. Now, that I'd like to see. Make sure Shirleen's around when you talk to Lee about paperwork. He loves to talk about paperwork."

At this juncture, wisely, Kitty Sue decided to intervene, "Ally, get that pile from the end of Shirleen's desk and you and Indy help sort. Shirleen, move out from behind the desk, Sadie's going to type labels on the computer and make up folders. Daisy, start with the A's, file what already has a folder in the cabinet, give Sadie the rest so she can make folders. Come on girls," She clapped her hands. "Let's go."

Boy, you could tell Kitty Sue was a Mom. Even Daisy and Shirleen did as she ordered which meant Shirleen moved to the far more comfortable couch and kept polishing her nails.

I found the folders and labels and started typing. Daisy started filing. Kitty Sue, Indy and Ally kept on sorting.

In an hour, we were done, the last label typed, the last folder put away. Kitty Sue closed a drawer with her foot and swiped her hands together like she was brushing off dust.

"Oowee, world's put to rights, Lee's paperwork is filed. I'll call the mayor," Shirleen announced from her reclining position on the couch, her head coming up from her perusal of Us magazine.

Daisy, Ally, Indy and Kitty Sue all went red in the face and glared at Shirleen.

"Why don't we go to dinner? My treat," I offered before anyone could commit a violent act, or worse, say something they regretted.

"Can't," Shirleen said, sitting up. "Orders are you stay here unless one of the Hot Bunch is around to escort you. They're all tied up. You're stuck."

"Then we'll order pizza," I decided.

Shirleen nodded and grinned. "That'll work. I got Famous on speed dial."

Of course she did.

"I'll call the girls, the Hot Bunch are all working tonight so they're all free," Indy put in.

"Tell Jet to stop by Pasquini's and pick up dessert," Ally threw in.

"Tell Jules to bring Max, I haven't seen him in ages," Kitty Sue said.

"Tell Roxie to pop by the liquor store and get beer," Daisy finished.

I moved out from behind the desk to give Shirleen room and walked to the side of the couch to pick up my purse so I could call Ralphie and Buddy to see if they wanted to come around.

I grabbed my phone, dropped my purse to the couch and turned, back to the door, to face the girls, all of whom were across the room.

"I'll call Ralphie and Bud " I started but didn't finish.

The door opened behind me, I didn't have a chance to turn but I did see Daisy's face grow pale, her mouth opened to say something but I felt something very unpleasant touch my neck.

I dropped the phone and everything went black.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

He Taught Me How to Make S'Mores.

Sadie.

It was well past dawn when the door opened, the lights went on and Jerry walked in.

I'd been up for hours, watching the sun lighten the dark room as it peeped through the closed curtains at the window.

I did not spend this time scared.

I spent it angry.

I was over this.

Over.

This.

All of it.

The fact that it was Jerry who'd kidnapped me right out of Nightingale Investigations reception area and not one of the crazy, mean, fucking Balducci Brothers didn't make me any happier.

This was only partly because I was over all the shitty, terrible traumas that kept making my life so fucking difficult. It was also because I knew Hector (and everyone, for that matter), were probably scared out of their minds that I'd been gone all night.

And them being scared pissed me right off.

I yanked my hand which was handcuffed to an iron bedstead so that it made an awful clink and I glared at him.

"Uncuff me," I snapped.

"No fuckin' way. You get uncuffed after you talk to your Dad," Jerry replied, putting a mug of coffee and a bowl of cereal on the nightstand. The room I was in was clean, drab and had no personal items just a double bed, dresser and two nightstands.

"Where am I?" I demanded, taking a different tact.

"Your father's safe house. The Feds never found it," Jerry replied, standing several feet away from the bed, arms crossed on his chest, looking down at me.

"Where is it?"

"You're spreadin' your legs for an ex-Fed PI, Sadie," he returned, his tone ugly. "I'm not gonna tell you where your father's safe house is."

I decided to ignore his rude words.

"How did you get me?"

"Stun gun. You went down, I dragged you out, your bitches came after me. I fired warning shots, they backed off. Got you in the car, Nightingale's operations man, Monty whoever-the-fuck came after me, I shot out his tire. You started to come around, I gave you a different kind of shot. Nightie night."

I felt my breath catch. "You shot at them?"

"Warning shots."

I yanked my hand against the cuffs and got up on my knees.

"I swear to God, Jerry, you hurt any of them, I'll fucking kill you!"

He grinned like he thought I was hilarious. "Much as I'd like to put a bullet in Nightingale's piece or his fuckin' sister, who's a pain in everyone's ass, you Dad's orders were to get you, no collateral damage. That's what I did."

That made me feel better but I still spat at him, "You're a pig."

At my words, his face went hard. "Rather be a pig than a traitor." He leaned in and his face started to turn ugly. "You make me sick. The idea of that asshole's hands on you, his mouth on you, his dick in you. Christ, your father trusted him and Chavez fucked him, he fucked all of us. Now you're lettin' him fuck you. Can you imagine how that makes your Dad feel?"

"My father feels? Wow, Jerry, thanks for sharing. That's news to me," I retorted sarcastically, too beyond angry to stop myself.