"That's Marty," Hector said back.

"What's Plan B?"

"You don't have to know what Plan B is but while it's happenin', you aren't outside touching distance of me or one of the boys. Clear?"

"Clear," I agreed. "But I think I want to know what Plan B is."

He shook his head.

"Hector " I started.

"You agreed I'd take care of you, I'm takin' care of you. That's all you need to know."

"Hector!"

He gave me a squeeze, his eyes went narrow and then, obviously because this was important, for good measure, he gave me a shake.

"Sadie, I'm askin' you to trust me."

I pulled in my lips, bit them and stared at him.

I'd made this bed, I'd tested that trust, I'd let him know it and now I was lying in said bed.

Blooming heck!

I had only one choice.

"Oh, all right," I gave in and watched his face start to relax. "But only if you let me paint your living room whatever color I want."

It was his turn to stare.

And he did this for awhile.

Finally, he said, "Mamita, you're a little crazy."

Maybe I was.

But I was also on a mission.

"Do I get to paint your living room?" I asked.

He sighed then rested his forehead against mine. This time, he kept it there.

Then it was his turn to give in. "Just not pink."

"I'm not going to paint your living room pink!" I yelled, pulling my head away. "I can't believe you'd even think that."

At my outburst, his face went warm and, for some bizarre reason, he muttered, "Will of fuckin' steel."

"What?" I asked.

"Shit keeps comin' at you. Bad shit. Rape, your mother's murder, arson, kidnapping and you're standin' here wantin' to paint my living room. You got a will of fuckin' steel."

I didn't know what to say to that so I didn't say anything but Hector did.

"And before you ask, mi corazn, that's good," he told me quietly.

My belly went into melt mode, he touched his lips to mine, soft, sweet and way too short.

I decided to change the subject from my "will of steel" (even though I liked that he thought that about me, it felt good).

"I need to talk to you about what Jerry and my father said."

"You had breakfast?"

"Jerry gave me a bowl of cereal."

He let me go, stepped away but curled his arm around my neck and headed us to the door.

"I'll feed you, you tell me then we'll go to Home Depot, get you some paint."

I smiled at him. I couldn't help it because there it was again.

I had a trauma.

I survived it.

Then Hector made life better again.

I stopped our progress to the door by planting my feet, putting a hand to his stomach and pressing into his side. I leaned up on tiptoes and, this time, I touched my mouth to his.

"Thanks, babe," I said softly against his mouth.

At my words, I watched, close up, as his eyes flared, he curled me fully to his front, his mouth came down on mine and he gave me a kiss that was so far from a touch on the lips, it wasn't even funny.

When he was done, he lifted his head. I was leaned into him, arms around him, unable to hold myself up and he had that possessive look in his eye.

"There she is," he whispered.

"Who?" I asked.

"My Sadie."

And, indeed, there I was.

And being there, Hector's Sadie smiled.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Fred and Wilma.

Sadie.

I felt warmth at my neck, it moved up and then fingers sifted into my hair.

This was such a pleasant sensation, my mind decided to come awake, I opened my eyes and looked up.

"Hi," I said softly to Hector who was sitting on the edge of the couch. I was on my side, hands in prayer position under my cheek, my knees bent and his hips were in the crook of my lap.

"If I didn't see it for myself, mamita, I'd ask if you got any paint on the wall," he said right before his hand left my hair and his index finger slid across my cheek and down the side of my mouth. I knew he was tracing a paint mark, just one of many.

I ignored what his soft touch did to my body and got up on an elbow, one hand pulling the hair away from my face and getting stuck in the paint-clogged tangles.

"Painting's kind of messy," I informed him.

His eyes gave me a hair, face and torso scan. "It's not that messy."

I grinned and pushed all the way up, going behind him, and got to my feet. I leaned in, grabbed his hand, pulled him up and said, "Come look."

I dragged him from the north room to the south room and we stood in the middle.

I was thrilled with the results. The dusky gray went great with the dusky gray-blue of the other room. There were all sorts of ways to tie the rooms together, toss pillows, throws, pictures, the mind boggled with the options (at least mine did). It was perfect.

I dropped his hand and pointed to the bottom of the walls.

"You said don't worry about the skirting boards, you were going to put wood ones in. Look!" I cried happily. "Matt helped by yanking off the old ones. He threw them in a pile in the backyard."

Hector wasn't looking at where the skirting boards used to be, he was looking at me.

"Matt was here to watch you, not help renovate the room," Hector told me.

I waved my hand in between us. "I know, that's okay. Duke came by and helped him, they never left me alone. Promise." Then I looked around. "Where's Matt anyway?"

"I let him go. I'm on duty now."

"Oh! Okay!" I chirped and then put my hand to his shoulder and turned him toward the fireplace. "While they were doing that, since we couldn't paint, Roxie, Ava, Stella, Ralphie and I stripped the wood on the fireplace. Isn't that wood fantastic? Who in their right minds would paint wood like that?" I asked and didn't wait for an answer. "As you can see, we couldn't get in some of the grooves but Duke said there's some goo you can brush on to loosen it up and scrape it out. He's going to bring some by tomorrow."

Hector was looking at the fireplace but his arm slid along my shoulders and he pulled me to his side.

"I've got the 'goo'," he said to the fireplace but I saw his lips twitching. "It's in the kitchen."

"Fantastic!" I cried, clapping my hands then I threw out an arm. "We all painted, we did the ceiling white, like you did in the other room. Ava did the edging because she's an artist and she has a steady hand. It didn't take any time at all with the five of us and we even did two coats. I think it looks fab. Don't you?" I tilted my head to look up at him, he was watching me, eyes amused and he nodded. I smiled and went on, "Duke says we got the order wrong, we should have painted before we sanded the floors. Now I have to sand the paint splodges off."

Hector curled me into his front and looked down at me. "We didn't get the order wrong. You didn't ask to paint. You asked to sand the floors."

I blinked at him as I slid my arms loosely around his waist. "Oh. You should have said."

"You seemed all fired up to sand. I didn't want to disappoint you," he explained.

My belly went into melt mode (yes, over Hector letting me sand his floors!).

How bizarre was that?

I shook it off, too excited by the news I had to impart on him, I couldn't think about my melted belly.

"Anyway, Duke's coming over tomorrow to stain the floors and he's going to show me how!" I announced like Duke promised a one-day, comprehensive course in the intricacies of neurosurgery.

Hector grinned but said, "Not to put a damper on your good time, mamita, and as much as I appreciate Duke's help, I wanna walk on my floors, not Duke's."

Oh. Wow.

He wanted to refinish his own floors.

That got a belly melt too!

Seriously, I was so weird!

"No worries," I told Hector, again ignoring the belly melt. "I'll break it to Duke."

He bent his head and touched his mouth briefly to mine. "We get your business done, this weekend, we'll finish the floors. Then we'll have somewhere to sit other than the bed."

I leaned further into him, liking that idea. Liking it loads.

It was not a surprise that got a belly melt too.

"Okay," I said softly.

His eyes went over my face and hair again then he informed me, "Takin' you out to dinner, get showered."

"Okay," I repeated, smiled at him, pulled away and headed to the stairs.

I was up three steps when Hector called, "We're goin' to Lincoln's." I stopped, looked at him and he went on, "It's a roadhouse, you wear your designer armor, we're likely to get ejected."

I didn't answer, he was grinning at me and I knew he was teasing. I just shook my head in a non-verbal "whatever", trying to suppress my own grin (and failing) and headed upstairs.

I took a shower, scrubbed off the paint and thought about my day.

Outside of waking up kidnapped and the hours after that were in Jerry the Swine's company, that day had been the second best day of my life.

Hector and I had breakfast at a greasy spoon and Detective Marker joined us for coffee at the end. I told them both about Jerry spilling that my father told him to take down the Balduccis one-by-one and I told them about the money.

Even though I'd been convinced this wouldn't faze me, it did. There was something about knowing my father ordered Jerry to protect me, he was avenging me against the Balduccis and he wanted me to be comfortable, money-wise, that made me feel that eensy bit like the traitor Jerry called me.