His face twisted with fury. "It was me you fucked over that way, I'd let the Balduccis play with you. Not Seth. 'Take 'em down, one-by-one, make it hurt,' he says to me. 'Keep an eye on Sadie, Chavez falls down on the job, make sure she's safe,' he says. Fuck."

My body had gone solid.

Make sure she's safe. He said.

My father wanted to be sure I was safe.

And, if I read it right, he was resigned to Hector having that job.

I couldn't wrap my mind around it and I started to tremble but luckily Jerry didn't notice.

"Eat. You're father'll call, he'll talk, you'll fuckin' listen then I'll take you back to your fuck buddy," Jerry finished our tete-a-tete and turned to go.

In desperation, before I could stop myself, I blurted, "I need to call Hector."

Jerry stopped and grinned again then his eyes got weird in a way I did not like.

"Like the idea of seein' what you'd do to get that call, Sadie. Maybe I'd make you let me fuck that smart mouth of yours." My heart started beating harder just as my eyes narrowed but he kept on, "But I like the idea of Chavez tearin' Denver apart lookin' for you more."

Then he was gone.

I stared at the door, giving it my Icicle Ray of Death Glare which didn't work, no matter how hard I tried. Then I ate my cereal, drank my coffee and waited.

Jerry came back, stun gun in one hand, keys to the handcuffs in another.

"Bathroom. You got one minute then I come in," he threatened.

I didn't fight and did as he asked.

I just had to wait. He said I had to listen to my father and for Detective Marker this was what I was supposed to be doing. I didn't pretend to be happy about the circumstances but I wasn't going to do anything stupid either. Jerry was mean and I didn't want to test him. I wanted to get through this latest trauma alive and breathing and go on. I was noticing the bad parts were interspersed with good parts. And of those good parts, some of them were great, some of them were fun and all of them gave me that warm, snugly, safe feeling.

If all I had to do was talk to my father to get back to all that, that was what I'd do.

After my bathroom break, Jerry cuffed me to the bed and disappeared again.

I tried not to think about Hector tearing Denver apart looking for me which I was pretty certain sure he was doing or the rest of my friends worried about me (again!). Instead, I decided what color Hector's living room should be painted (a dusky gray, like the thermal he owned that I liked so much). Then I decided he should install an island like Buddy and Ralphie's in his kitchen (I figured that would work, if it was an eensy bit smaller).

It might have been an hour, maybe longer, when Jerry came back.

He had a cell to his ear and he was nodding.

"She's right here," he said into the cell, stopped by the bed and handed it to me.

I took it and put it to my ear.

"Sadie?" my father said.

I thought about my coaching from Hector, Eddie and Marcus and I snapped into the phone, "You had me kidnapped."

"Sadie "

I interrupted him and clipped, throwing Jerry right under the bus (where he belonged, in my personal opinion), "I asked to make a phone call and Jerry told me he wanted to fuck my smart mouth!"

Silence.

Or, I should say, scary silence.

As usual, I sallied forth. "Is this how we spend father and daughter hour now, Daddy? Any time you want to speak to me, one of your henchmen kidnaps me and threatens me with sexual violation before you and I have our chat?"

"I'll have a word with Jerry," my father said, he sounded angry and I looked up at Jerry who now looked pale.

Ha!

"Make it two. I think two words with Jerry would probably be better," I retorted, my eyes locked on Jerry.

That's when Jerry's handsome face twisted in that ugly way again and even though deep down inside it scared me half to death, I just kept glaring at him.

"Sadie, there's things I have to go over with you. I don't have a lot of time so I need you to be quiet and listen."

"Well, Daddy, seeing as I'm handcuffed to a bed in a room in a house where I don't know where the hell I am, I've got nothing better to do. So fire away."

He sighed then he said, "I need to tell you where the money is."

This surprised me. I had no idea what he was going to say but I didn't figure that would be it. Giving me grief about Hector, yes. Money, no.

My chin dropped and I blinked at the bedclothes.

"What money?"

"My money, your money, our money."

"I know where my money is, Aaron takes care of it."

"That's your grandmother's money. This is our money. The money I earned, the money the Feds didn't get. It's in your name in an account in the Caymans."

I felt my heart lodge in my throat.

He was joking.

Right?

"Do you need me to get it for you?" I asked stupidly.

What was he going to do with it?

Unless he was planning a prison break.

Someone, please tell me he wasn't planning a prison break!

"No," he answered and I let out a quiet, relieved breath. "I need to know you can get to it if you need to."

This surprised me too. More than before. Down to my core.

My heart slid to the side, lengthwise, threatening to choke me.

"I don't want your money," I whispered.

"Sadie, you need to get gone, until the Balduccis "

"Hector's taking care of me," I cut in.

"Yes, I can see that. He's doing a stellar job. That's why you're cuffed to a bed," my father shot back impatiently.

Oh no, he was not going to lay this on Hector!

"Only because Jerry shot at the Rock Chicks!" I cried.

"You think one of the Balducci boys wouldn't shoot at those girls? They wouldn't think twice and they wouldn't intentionally miss."

He was probably right about that.

I, of course, was not going to tell him that.

"Even the Balduccis wouldn't be fool enough to walk into Lee Nightingale's office and nab me. Jerry's fucked. Hector's probably livid and the Nightingale Men are going to freak."

"You think I don't know that?" he asked sharply. "I need Lee Nightingale breathing down my neck like I need a hole in my head. Sadie, you forced my hand, put me in a situation where I had to put one of my men at risk just so I could talk to my own goddamned daughter."

I steeled myself so his words wouldn't affect me.

"Are we done here?" I asked sounding like I was definitely done.

"No. I need to give you the name of the bank, the account numbers "

"I think I already told you I don't want your money and I'm fine where I am."

More silence, this stretched longer, became scarier then my father said in a low voice, a voice I knew very well, the voice he used when he meant to be listened to and obeyed.

"We need to talk about Chavez."

I fought against my conditioning to listen and obey and said, fake-breezily, "Talk away."

"I don't like you with him."

"Well, I didn't suspect you'd be leaping for joy but I also don't care. I like him. He taught me how to make s'mores."

Silence again, this time it wasn't scary, it was something else.

"S'mores?" he asked and I could swear my always unruffled father sounded confused.

"Yes, those graham cracker sandwiches where you roast a marsh "

"I know what s'mores are, Sadie."

"Well, he taught me how to make them. He found out I'd never had them and always wanted to make some and he made sure I had them. And we sanded his floors. And his mother likes me. She's going to teach me how to cook."

The scary was back. "He's got you, my daughter, sanding his floors?"

"I asked to do it. Hector wanted to watch a movie."

"Jesus Christ," my father muttered.

At this point, in order to speed things up and get the hell out of there, I channeled Hector and explained, "I know you don't have a lot of time and you're not getting this so I'll give it to you. See, a good life is about sanding floors, making s'mores and laughing while you do the dishes. It's about putting lip gloss on in the restroom with your girlfriends during a rock gig. It's about being able to say things that aren't smart or do things that are really stupid and people forgiving you. It's about looking after each other. That's a good life. Ralphie and Buddy, my friends, gave that to me. Then Hector came into my life and made it even better. I've had that life for..." I stopped, counted and then went on, "Five weeks and five days. I like it. I'm not giving it up. I'm not going to the Caymans and living the big life off your drug money, surrounded by pretty things, eating the finest foods, drinking champagne but being totally alone and utterly lonely. I'd rather paint Hector's living room which is what I might do today, if he lets me. Now, can we stop talking so Jerry can take me home and good people can stop worrying about me?"

Apparently, he didn't listen to a word I said.

"It's my job to take care of you, I'm your father," he told me.

"Well, if it's your job, you're fired," I replied calmly, proud of myself.

Who would have known I had it in me?

But there it was.

Silence again, then, "This isn't done, Sadie."

It was my turn to sigh. "I didn't figure it would be. But can it be for now? I need a shower."

Then he surprised me again, he did this by giving in.

My father never gave in.

Ever!

"Give the phone to Jerry," he ordered.

I smiled with saccharin sweetness (through my surprise) at Jerry and held out the phone.

"Daddy wants to talk to you." I told him.

Jerry gave me a glare, took the phone, turned his back to me and walked out of the room.

Minutes later, he came back, holding a funny looking gun.

I stared in shock at the gun.

"Lights out," Jerry said and the last thing I saw were the Taser prongs coming at me.