Archer sat silently at his desk, Anna behind him as they entered the large room and the goon squad stepped back to allow her to face them.

She'd known Archer all her life. He was a friend; once she'd almost made him her confidant before drawing back out of fear of jeopardizing his standing in the community should Wayne ever learn the other man knew his true nature.

Archer's gaze moved to Crowe coolly before settling on her once again. Giving a heavy sigh he rose slowly to his feet, his gaze compa.s.sionate.

"How are we doing this, Amelia?" he asked her.

He asked her, not Crowe, and his voice as well as his expression let everyone know it was her decision this time.

"Just the two of us, Archer," she informed him.

"Dammit it, Amelia," Crowe growled warningly. "Don't do this..."

"You can watch the monitors, Crowe." Archer hit a key at the computer, bringing the six wall-mounted monitors alive on the wall next to his desk. Next, he turned on the speaker next to them. "Audio included."

"Amelia," Crowe's voice was lower now, darker. "At least let me go in with you."

She shook her head slowly, not daring to look at him as she moved her gaze to her friend.

Anna knew her history with the Carter brothers, and Amelia knew she understood why this had to be done. Still, she'd warned Amelia that Crowe's anger could cause him to strike out at the boys himself.

It was a chance she had to take. Amelia prayed the man that once existed would see what she saw in the brothers' sobriety, and if he didn't, then she would have to deal with it when the time came.

"Let's go then." Archer moved around the desk to the security door on the other side of the room. "John, you have security."

Her brother moved into place behind the desk opposite Archer's where the doors' locks and the cells' security features were controlled.

The snick of the main lock seconds later indicated the door was unlocked.

Pulling it open Archer stepped inside before looking back at her. Amelia moved past him slowly, her hands pushed into the pockets of her jacket as the main door closed and locked behind them.

It took a minute to get into the main detention area. Eight cells, four to each wall were contained in the jail. At the end of the hall the Carter brothers were in one cell together for this meeting.

Amelia moved to the front of the iron bars, staring at the three men somberly as they stared back at her, their expressions heavy and filled with repentance.

The oldest brother, David, sat forward on the cot slowly, his face drawn, his gaze filled with self-disgust and sorrow.

It was the youngest, Dillion, sitting on the floor, his back against the cement wall, who spoke first though.

"I wouldn't hurt you, Amelia." His voice was scratchy and hoa.r.s.e. "I couldn't hurt you. You know that."

"We're real sorry, Amelia," Dwight whispered tearfully as he sat at the other end of the cot from David. "You know, all the years we've been drunk and said things to you, we've never hurt you."

Amelia glanced away from them for long moments, fighting the tears that wanted to fill her eyes and the guilt that had followed her for so many years. But, when she turned back to them, her eyes were dry, her expression firm.

"That day in school," she cleared her throat before going on. "When I called Dwight out for cheating off me, I didn't mean to say it so loudly. I really didn't mean to say anything at all," she told them firmly. "I had just buried my mother the day before. That same night, Wayne locked me in a small, dark cellar in the bas.e.m.e.nt for crying."

She had to breathe for a moment to continue as each man watched her closely, their expressions tightening painfully. "Each time," she continued, "that I ensured the three of you were shielded from whatever harm Wayne meant to you, I was punished by him. What he did to your aunt, he should die for. What he did to everyone he struck against, he should be punished in the same manner for." She straightened her shoulders then, forcing herself to harden, her gaze to meet each of the Carter brothers' in resolution. "But I will never again be punished for what he's done, especially by the three of you. The next time you take that first drink, think about that. Because the next time you attack me, pretend to attack me, or insult me in the ways you have in the past, I will press charges against each and every one of you. Are we clear?"

Dwight and Dillion nodded slowly, a tear easing from their eyes before their heads lowered, regret and years of pain reflected in their eyes.

"Amelia." David drew her attention then, his voice filled with sorrow. "You should have had us jailed years ago. We didn't deserve your mercy then, or now." He seemed to sit taller though, his gaze meeting hers with a determination she had never seen in it before. "What happened outside the bar was inexcusable. It was unforgivable. But, for Dwight and Dillion's sakes, I'm grateful, and I swear to you, it will never happen again." He swallowed tightly then. "For myself, all I can say is that if I ever take another drink, if I ever allow myself to lose my senses in such a way again, then I hope you do press charges. Because we've always known, sober, what a good woman you are. And drunk, we always knew that compa.s.sion in you understood our hurt and anger. But you didn't deserve to be the focus of that. And I'm sorry."

Amelia nodded slowly. "I hope you mean that, David." She looked at his brothers for a second. "And I hope all of you manage to find a way to put the past behind you. That's all any of us can do at this point, until Wayne's caught, or proven dead. Your rage is at him. If you need an outlet for it, focus on him, not on me. Because I will never allow it again."

She didn't give them a chance to say anything more.

"Archer." Turning to the other man she met his gaze and saw the understanding in it. "I won't be pressing charges against them. What happened was a misunderstanding, nothing more."

"I understand," he said softly. "I'll take care of their release. And I'll make sure they understand just how d.a.m.ned lucky they are."

Amelia inhaled slowly, then turned and moved back to the exit. The door unlocked immediately. Stepping through it she waited at the primary exit until Archer joined her, then as the door unlocked, stepped back into his office.

Crowe stood silently, his eyes boiling with fury, with the knowledge that she had all but admitted to the punishments Wayne had inflicted on her, the abuse she had suffered over the years for the many times she'd aided so many in the county.

"Crowe," Archer's voice held a warning. "Don't say anything I may have to lie about under oath. I won't appreciate it."

Crowe's lips thinned.

"Are you ready now?" he asked Amelia.

"I'm ready," she stated, her fingers still curled into fists as she moved past him, aching for his arms around her and immeasurably grateful that they weren't.

The Carter brothers were taken care of, she thought as she left Archer's office, with Crowe, John, and the security agents surrounding her as they led her to the SUV waiting outside. There was only one battle, one secret left to reveal. The most important of them all.

As Amelia entered the house with Crowe and the others, she watched silently as he moved up the stairs, the sound of her bedroom door closing quietly, causing her to flinch.

She had to tell him.

Her parents would be here soon. Too soon. She didn't have much time left.

"Rory?" she whispered to the agent still standing behind her.

"Yeah?" Soft, shadowed with suspicion and wariness on a normal day, his tone now held a sense of dangerous watchfulness.

"What would you do to protect those you love?" she asked.

Rory blew out a hard breath. "Whatever it took."

She nodded slowly and took the first step up the stairs.

"Amelia?" His question had her pausing. "What would you do to protect those you love?"

"Die," she whispered.

"Dying's easy," he warned her. "It's the living that gets hard. And sometimes, that's the only way to save not just those you love, but yourself as well. Can you live again, Amelia?"

Could she live again?

She was about to find out.

CHAPTER 20.

The bedroom door opened slowly, spilling light into the room for brief seconds before Amelia closed the door behind her. Her delicate silhouette appeared tinier and more fragile than ever as the light caught her from the side and spread around her.

Watching as she moved toward him, Crowe was once again reminded of the young woman she had been seven years before and how easily she had touched a part of him he'd believed dead for years.

"When I find Wayne," he told her, his voice guttural, so rough he barely recognized it himself. "Every blow, every moment of fear you felt. For every G.o.dd.a.m.ned second he hurt you, I'll torture him."

She stared back at him, the aching sadness and pain he glimpsed inside her tearing at his guts, ripping his soul apart.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked as she moved before him. What he wouldn't give to be able to decipher the expression on her face now.

"No. Should I be?" she asked.

"If the question has to be asked," she had once said, "then no doubt I should wonder if there's something you're guilty of."

"There's no anger," she sighed then, her voice drawing a frown to his face before her next question had him tensing. "Would you hold me, Crowe?"

Hold her? She had to ask him if he would hold her?

"You don't have to ask, fairy-girl," he a.s.sured her, opening his arms and drawing her to him. "I'd hold you anytime."

Her slight weight settled across his thighs as she tucked herself against his heart. Her head rested against his shoulder as he held her close to him and waited.

He'd been forced to take her to the jail such a short time after John's revelations to her concerning her ex-husband that Crowe hadn't had a chance to discuss them with her. To allow her to rage, to hate, to do whatever she had to do.

That thing with the Carters was over, he'd known that the minute they left Archer's office. But her silence, the heavy burden her shoulders seemed to carry, hadn't eased. It hadn't gone away. The sight of it a.s.sured him that the darkness he could feel moving through her, around her, would have to escape sooner rather than later.

"It was a shock to hear about Stoner," she finally admitted. "For seven years I've had to convince myself you didn't love me, or I couldn't have survived, Crowe. When you did come back into my life then I had to convince myself it was to capture Wayne, because you never told me any differently."

No, he hadn't, he admitted. He'd made mistakes he should have never made where she was concerned. Hadn't said things he should have said. Had said things he d.a.m.ned well shouldn't have.

"Do you remember when I came to you after you tried to leave to meet Cami that night, after she and Rafer were together?" he asked her.

She'd dropped the note at her former friend's feet, asking her to meet with her as they had met with her during their teenage years. For a while Wayne and Mark Flannigan had decided Amelia was a bad influence on Cami, in some way. They had kept the girls separated for more than two years during their early teens.

Her head lay against his chest, fingers splaying as though to absorb his heat.

"I knew who you were the moment you covered my mouth with your hand that night," she whispered. "It was like having my midnight fantasies suddenly come to life."

"When I realized you were still risking yourself for us after Wayne had learned what happened that summer, I nearly had a stroke," he admitted, running his hand over the ultrafine material of her blouse sleeve. "Nothing was worth the risks you were taking for us," he went on roughly. "Nothing. Because if I lost you, Amelia, then my family would lose me as well. You were always my first priority. The knowledge of that put talons of guilt into my soul at times, but I couldn't change it. Protecting you was important, if not more so, than protecting the last of the family I possessed."

Tipping his head to stare down at her, he found himself trapped in the gleam of her gaze even as darkness shielded the color.

"Wayne forced me to marry Stoner." She admitted what he already knew. "Had I not married him, Wayne would have had Cami arrested as well as you and me. He said it was the only way he could be certain I stayed away from you. But I think it was because he believed you would come for me."

He touched her head, stroked her hair. Touching her brought him pleasure. Just touch, it didn't matter where. The feel of her skin, the silk of her hair, the warmth of her against him. He couldn't find the words-he couldn't describe what she made him feel.

"Why didn't you tell me that summer that Wayne was beating you?" Would she answer him this time or find another way to distract him?

"There was nothing you could have done, Crowe," she said, surprising him. The answer was given with gentle acceptance and a knowledge that the past could never be changed. "I couldn't leave with you at the time because you were constantly moving, according to Clyde. Besides, even if I could have left with you, you would have had to return, according to your parents' will. And the Slasher was waiting." She looked up at him then. "I understand why you went after Stoner. It wasn't something I could have understood then. No matter who it was. The teenagers he attempted to rape-he deserved to die for that. They're children. You don't hurt children. But it can't be about me. Killing someone for hurting another person who has the option of walking away is still murder. Killing Wayne at that time, just because he hit me, would have stained everything we felt for each other with blood."

But he would have done it.

Had he known for a fact Wayne was abusing her as severely as he now realized, it would have pushed him over the edge.

Cupping her face with his hand and tilting it up so he could stare into her incredible eyes, he let his thumb brush over her lips before flipping on the radio.

Cupping her cheek once again, Crowe allowed all his furious, hungry possessiveness to rise to the surface as his head lowered, his lips a mere breath from her ear.

"You are mine! Mine by G.o.d, and no one but no one will hurt, abuse, or dare to f.u.c.king harm what's mine, ever again."

Fury, hunger, possessiveness.

Territorial.

Her thoughts of earlier suddenly flared in her mind.

The primal staking of claim couldn't have been more obvious if he'd branded her.

"Yesterday, tomorrow, and by G.o.d forever. You. Are. Mine."

He nipped the lobe of her ear as her entire body flushed with a sudden, sensual heat and melting s.e.xual submission she had no idea how to combat.

She didn't want to combat it.

"We need to talk," she whimpered as his lips brushed against hers, rubbing over them with heated friction.

"The night I came to you, after you left Cami that note, it was like coming out of the cold, Amelia. Suddenly I was too warm, too sensitive. Everything was rushing back to life and I had no idea how to handle it."

Her lips parted and a shocked breath rushed past them. And he took complete advantage of it.

Covering her lips fully with his, he let his tongue lick past her lips, taking quick, erotic tastes of her as her arms curled around his neck and she began taking, just as she had been giving.

Shifting on his lap, holding his kiss as she struggled against his restraining grip, she gave a satisfied little murmur as she broke contact, slowly straightening to her feet.

The dim glimmer of light from the radio case was just enough glow for Crowe to see that escape wasn't her objective.

Slender, graceful hands moved to the closure of her jeans, easing the little metal b.u.t.tons free as Crowe quickly went to work on the b.u.t.tons of his shirt. He was shrugging the material from his shoulders and tossing it to the floor as she wiggled from the snug jeans.