Carson glowered at me. "No need to raise your voice, Miss. I have to be direct because these are the kinds of questions that Mr. Radcliff's defense attorney will ask."

I pursed my lips. He was right. I'd overreacted. My nerves were stretched too taut. I lowered my voice to a more pleasant and polite volume. "When is the trial going to take place?"

Carson thought for a moment, then answered, "Months from now, I would guess. It'll probably depend on what the judge decides about bail."

"Bail?" I sat up straighter. "Didn't the judge deny Brian bail because there was a child involved?"

He laid his pen down and leaned back in his chair. "His lawyer objected and the judge is going to rule tomorrow about it. If he gets bail, his lawyer probably won't push for a quicker trial date."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So Brian could be out on the street tomorrow?" I struggled to keep my voice down. "That's bull...I mean, that's terrible! What if he tries to take Michelle again, or hurt Emma, or me?"

Carson raised an eyebrow, the look on his face clearly saying that he thought I was overreacting. "It's very unlikely that he'd get anywhere near any of you. He'd get sent right back to jail. He has a restraining order."

"A lot of good that did us before," I muttered, as frustration started to turn to anger.

"Look, Miss Carrington," Carson's voice sharpened. "For all we know, this might not have been a kidnapping at all. Maybe he was simply taking his daughter on a camping trip. You know, father-daughter time."

I stared at him. Was he serious? "Camping trip? Are you out of your fuout of your mind? This was not a camping trip! He had a gun. He pointed the gun at John and was going to shoot. I'm willing to bet he would've shot Emma and me, too. Brian is insane, and you need to tell the judge that." I resisted the urge to jab my finger at him. "If you let that man out, you're letting out a maniac who will try something again, restraining order or not. And if anything happens, the blood will be on your hands."

Carson held up a hand and cut me off before I could say anything else. "Hold on there, Miss. Let's let the court decide." He puffed himself up. "In this country, people are innocent until proven guilty. Mr. Radcliff has the same rights as everyone else."

I stood up, my hands shaking with anger. What an asshole. I hated his condescending tone. He was demeaning to women, treating them as if everything that came out of a woman's mouth was hysteria. I didn't know Officer Carson, but I knew his type. He saw women as belonging in the kitchen, doing dishes, while barefoot and pregnant. He wasn't going to take any of my concerns seriously.

"Are we done?" I didn't care that I sounded rude.

Carson looked up at me, giving me that same patronizing look that said I was being a typical woman. "I just need your contact information, in case you have to testify at the trial."

"You found me once." I should've kept my mouth shut but the words just popped out and I cheered my inner Hanna for taking over. Sometimes meek little Dani was better off keeping quiet. I wasn't going to allow this backwoods yokel to disrespect me.

Carson's face hardened, and I wondered if he thought that kind of comment deserved a slap across the face. I gripped the arms of my chair, tensing my body almost as if I expected it. I knew how things worked. I knew about the good ol' boys network and how these men shared a similar opinion about back-talking women. It wouldn't have been the first time an abuser had gotten leniency because of this kind of mentality.

"Can I take that to mean that you're staying with Mr. Radcliff's ex-wife?"

So there it was. The chances of my concerns ever reaching the judge were non-existent. The unspoken implication in his question belied the truth.

"I'm staying at the bed and breakfast," I answered tersely.

Carson tilted his head. "And what, exactly, is your relationship with Mr. Radcliff's ex-wife?"

My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe he'd asked that question. I stood up and seated the strap of my purse on my shoulder, then said, "If there's nothing more, I'll be leaving now, Officer Carson." I spun on my heel and stalked out, chin up. I refused to give him the satisfaction of me slinking out, embarrassed. I strode to the front exit of this sleepy town's police station and shoved open the glass door. As it swung wide, the bright sunlight of Summerville twinkled a little less brightly as it filtered through the familiar oak trees. I thought Summerville was better than New York in many ways, but I guess some things were the same in cute, little vacation spots as in New York City. There were assholes everywhere.

Chapter Six.

Luke I slammed the car door shut behind me on Bruno's sleek, black Lincoln Town Car, fighting the urge to plant my size twelve boot into the door. Instead, I raised my head to the sky and let out a stream of expletives as it drove away. I looked around. I was standing in the middle of Times fucking Square. While that would be a great place for a tourist, it was far from where I needed to be. I had to find my daughter and the clock was running.

I pulled out my phone. I wasn't about to just believe Bruno, but the bombshell he had just dropped on me about him and Cindy dating was exploding in my mind. As much as I wanted it to be just another one of Bruno's manipulative lies, my gut told me he was telling the truth. Still, I had to hear it from her. I had to hear her say that she was doing something that fucking stupid and dangerous. That she was putting our daughter in danger. And if she was, I knew that would mean she was using again, because that was the only time she ever jeopardized Lacey.

This time, she answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

I didn't bother with a greeting. I was too pissed. "Where the hell have you been all day? I've been trying to reach you."

"Nice to hear from you, too, Luke." Her words dripped sarcasm. "If you have to know, I was at the mall and the reception sucks in there, you know that."

"Where's Lacey?"

"Don't you worry about Lacey." The edge in her voice told me she was hedging. "She's doing just fine. I found me a real good man who knows how to take care of us."

"Oh, I know all about him. You're dating my promoter. What the fuck? Are you insane, Cindy? Seriously...Bruno? Or are you doing this to spite me?"

"I can date whoever I want, asshole." Her words shot out like bullets. "Do you think it's easy being a single mom? I don't have a job. I rely on you, an unemployed fighter, to support me. When I heard you disappeared, I had to do something."

I snapped, "Cry me a fucking river. Have you ever heard of getting a fucking job?" I'd heard this sob story before. How it was all my fault she didn't have the money for the things she wanted. How about spending a little on your daughter instead?

She snorted a laugh and I wondered if she was high or drunk. She was good at hiding it. "That's so like you, saying something like that. Do you know how much the kind of job I could get pays? Like six bucks an hour, unless I was doing something like stripping. Is that what you want, Luke? The mother of your child showing her tits for cash?"

"Cindy"

"Bruno pays my bills and takes care of me."

My anger was mixing with concern, but I still spoke through gritted teeth. "You have no idea who you are fucking dealing with. Bruno is ruthless and you're putting our daughter in danger. I'm not going to let you risk anything with Lacey."

I ended the call before she could do her usual song and dance about how I couldn't do shit since we'd never been married and how she was still friends with that cop she'd dated, the one who'd told me if I tried anything, he'd use his connections to make sure I never saw Lacey again. Connections. I shoved my phone into my pocket. Was everyone a fucking crook in this damned city?

Chapter Seven.

Dani For the next twenty-four hours, Emma and I jumped every time the phone rang. I'd told her as soon as I'd gotten back that Brian was appealing the original bail ruling. She'd immediately called the prosecutor who'd promised to do everything he could to make sure the judge upheld the original ruling, but I could see the disbelief on Emma's face and that she didn't think it was going to do any good.

When the phone rang for the nth time that day, I could tell the instant she picked it up that, this time, it was the prosecutor on the other end of the line. The knot in my stomach tightened as I watched her face fall, then a resigned look came over it.

"Thank you, Mr. Sullivan," she said before hanging up. She sank heavily onto the couch. She folded her hands onto her lap and spoke without looking at me. "A hundred thousand dollars, cash or bond."

"That's good, right?" I tried to see the positive. "I mean, Brian doesn't have that kind of money, does he? And after everything he's done, no bail bondsman would put up that much."

Emma turned to me with hollow eyes and said flatly, "Brian'll get the money."

"How do you know?" I wondered if he had some rich relative or something. That might explain his uncanny luck with things like this.

Emma shrugged. "It's just a hunch. And my hunches are usually pretty good."

"I hope you're wrong this time," I said.

"I do, too."

We went back to our work polishing some seriously tarnished silver Emma had picked up at various garage sales and estate auctions over the years and didn't talk about Brian. We didn't talk about anything, really. I could tell that she was as wrapped up in her own thoughts as I was in mine.

When Michelle came down for dinner three hours later, Emma and I both tried to put on happy faces for her. I wasn't sure if she was fooled or not. Kids seem to know when something is wrong; they're experts at picking up a tone in the voice or a nervous glance. Whatever the truth was, Michelle went along with our facade and we started on a last minute meal choice from the homemade pizza place in town. I never thought I'd be so excited to see a pizza delivered.

The house phone rang when we were almost done. Emma excused herself to the living room to answer it, so neither Michelle nor I could hear what she said. When she returned a few minutes later, her face was pale.

"Michelle," she said in a steady voice. "Why don't you take your dessert in the living room and choose a movie for us to watch? Hanna and I will be in in a minute."

Emma waited until Michelle left the room and then sat down in the seat across from me. She pressed her palms against the top of the table and I could see that they were shaking.

"That was Mr. Sullivan," she said.

My heart sank. I knew what was coming, but I didn't interrupt. Emma looked like she needed to say it.

"Brian posted bail thirty minutes ago and he'll be out tonight."

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to offer condolences, curse the judge or try to find a hit man, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Mr. Sullivan said not to worry... the restraining order is still valid, and he'll make sure a patrol car comes through the neighborhood to watch for any suspicious activity."

I glanced down at the half-eaten slice of pizza sitting on the plate. That's exactly the kind of thing they always tell people to appease them. Personally, I just thought they were covering their asses. If Brian did something, at least they could say they had requested a squad car be close by. I reached across the table and put my hand over Emma's. "It'll be okay."

She nodded, but I could see in her eyes that she didn't believe my words any more than I did. Suddenly, I didn't feel like movies and ice cream. I stood up. "I think I'll turn in early." I gave her a tired smile. It was probably as forced as it looked. "You and Michelle should have some mother-daughter time."

Emma opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but then stopped and nodded. "If you change your mind, you're welcome to join us."

"Thank you." My feet felt like they weighed a thousand pounds as I trudged up the stairs.

The hole in my chest was throbbing worse than it had since I'd watched Luke ride away. Why did everything here have to go to hell when he was gone? I kicked off my shoes but didn't bother undressing. I yanked the pillow out from under the top folded edge of the bedspread and curled up on top of it, finding a strange sort of comfort in the familiarity of the hideous floral pattern.

I could use all the comfort I could get. I grabbed for a second pillow. If Luke had been here, he could've held me, just wrapped those strong arms around me and tucked me against his chest. When he was with me, I felt safe, protected. And it wasn't just because of his size or his skills. It was him.

I didn't know how I was going to get through this without him. I felt so alone. I closed my eyes, letting the tears that had been burning slide out from under my lids. This was entirely my fault. I should've just called the police the night Brian attacked Luke and me on the street. Maybe he would've been in jail instead of being out, able to kidnap Michelle. And even if he hadn't been arrested then, he at least would've been on the cops' radar.

If I hadn't been so fucking selfish, none of this would be happening. If I hadn't taken the money, Bruno wouldn't have sent Luke after it and Lacey never would've been taken. If I'd reported any of the previous incidents with Brian, he'd still be locked up. This entire shit-storm was my fault.

I brushed my hands across my cheeks. The pillow was wet and stained with black eye makeup. My entire body was hurting with a deep, longing ache for Luke. I needed his strength, his reassurance. I rolled onto my back and looked at the phone on the bedside table. I picked it up. The desire to hear his voice was so strong that I found myself scrolling through my contacts, stopping at his name, my finger hovering over the number that would connect me to him.

I closed my eyes again and took a slow, deep breath. As I exhaled, I set my phone aside. I couldn't call him.

I let my thoughts drift to our time together. How his lips had felt when they'd parted mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. The way he'd crushed my body against his, like he could make me a part of him. His touch setting my skin on fire. Those deep, blue eyes that made my knees weak and made me wet in a heartbeat. The way it had felt when we'd moved together.

I'd almost managed to fall asleep when the image of Luke riding away on his Harley came into my mind, holding all of my good feelings hostage as my wonderful memories vanished. All of the bad rushed in, whispering that Luke wasn't here to help me and that he was never coming back.

The good thoughts, the warm Luke-infused thoughts, continued to elude me, dashing away as quickly as my mind chased after them. Sleep scurried away with them, leaving me tossing and turning into the early morning hours.

Chapter Eight.

Dani My eyelids were gritty and I rubbed at them as I rolled onto my back. I blinked up at the ceiling. Something was off. Where was I? I pushed myself up onto my elbows, looking around at a room that looked familiar but not quite right. I shook my head, trying to clear the last of the cobwebs away.

I was at Emma's, in the same room I'd called home ever since I had left New York. Why, then, did it feel odd? I looked over at the window and noticed that it was the slant of the sunlight that was throwing me off. I glanced down at the clock and realized, with a shock, that it was past ten o'clock.

For a minute, I thought I was reading it wrong, but there was no mistaking those red letters. I'd slept in for the first time in I didn't know how long. I jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I showered quickly and then dressed, not even bothering to dry my hair. I just pulled it back in a ponytail and hoped it wouldn't be too much of a mess by the end of the day.

I felt a bit sheepish as I came downstairs into the kitchen, especially when I saw that Emma was already hard at work.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Emma grinned at me. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I couldn't fall asleep last night, but I guess at some point my body decided it needed the rest because I just woke up about a half hour ago."

Emma nodded in the direction of the stove. "I heard you in the shower and figured I'd start some eggs for your breakfast."

"You didn't have to do that." I really felt guilty now about sleeping so late. "I should just get to work."

"Stop it," Emma ordered. "You're not allowed to feel bad about getting some sleep. When I was your age, I could sleep until noon."

I walked over to the kitchen counter, just now noticing that Emma was also kneading dough in a giant, metal mixing bowl. "What are you doing?"

"Making cinnamon rolls." Emma beamed. I could tell by the excited tone in her voice that she'd been bursting to tell me something. "You won't believe it. We have our first booking in the bed and breakfast!"

"Really?" Warmth spread through me at her use of the word 'we.' She probably just meant her and Michelle, but I liked to think that maybe she was including me in there, at least a little.

"A couple is coming tomorrow and they're going to stay a whole week."

She was beaming. It felt good to see Emma happy again. It made me smile, too. "That's wonderful."

"I'm making these cinnamon rolls for breakfast," Emma continued. "I'll freeze the dough and then just bake them right before I serve them."

I really hoped her cinnamon rolls were better than some of her other dishes. I liked Emma a lot, but cooking wasn't her forte.

I glanced down at her hands stuck in the bowl full of dough. The counter top around it and everything within a two foot radius was covered with flour, looking as if it had been flung all over the place by a cat trying to fight its way out of a bag. I didn't want to say anything to ruin her optimism about her first guests, so I steered the conversation in another direction.

"How'd you find these guests?"

"I put an ad on a tourist website last night, and would you believe it, this morning, there was the first booking." She slapped the dough, now formed into a smooth ball and, satisfied with the sound it made, put a towel over the top of the bowl. She continued as she cleaned white flour off her hands. "This couple wanted to come to Summerville for their vacation, but everything else was all booked up, so they contacted me."

"That's great, Emma," I said sincerely. I walked over to the stove and pushed the eggs around in their pan. I wasn't exactly the best cook, but I did know that you were supposed to stir scrambled eggs.