Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 12:50 a.m.

Luckily Leo’s place was not too far from his house. Luckily it was well after midnight and there were few cars on the highway or Daniel would have been tempted to use his lights for personal reasons for the first time ever.

She’d said nothing the entire way home and every minute of silence took the heat higher and higher until Daniel thought he’d lose it like a teenager before he ever got her clothes off. By the time he pulled into his driveway, he was shaking. But if there was any justice in the world, so was she. He grabbed her satchel and hauled her to his front door, his hand trembling as he tried to get the key in the lock. He missed twice before she hissed, “For God’s sake, hurry, Daniel.”

He got the door opened and yanked her inside. Her arms were around his neck and her mouth was kissing him before he got the front door shut. Blindly he closed it, locked it, threw the deadbolt. “Wait. The alarm. I have to set it.”

She withdrew and he turned to the alarm panel. When he looked back, his mouth went dry. Those nimble fingers of hers had made short work of the buttons on her blouse and she was pulling it from her slacks with impatient jerks. Her eyes narrowed.

“Hurry” was all she said.

The single word was like a cracked whip. Roughly he backed her against the door, taking her mouth with desperate ferocity as he pulled her jacket and blouse off her shoulders. Her fingers were quicker and she had his shirt unbuttoned before he could manage the hooks on her bra. Finally he twisted and ripped and her breasts were free and he filled his hands with them, plucking at her nipples, already pebbled hard.

“Alex.” He tried to step back but she was pushing her slacks and panties over her hips and kicking them away, all while her mouth ate at his. “Come to bed.”

“No, do it here.” She stood before him, nude and perfect. “Do it like you wanted to back there.” Then she gave him no choice when she threw her arms around his neck and launched herself high, twining her legs around his waist. “Do it now.”

His pulse rocketed through the top of his head and he yanked at his belt. His knuckles caressing her hot, incredibly wet warmth as he pulled and twisted, making her moan. He dropped his pants, pushed her against the door, and thrust as hard as he could. Finally all that wet warmth was surrounding him, pulling him deeper, driving him insane.

She cried out, but there was no pain in her eyes, only heat and need and want and he knew he needed to see those eyes glaze over in mindless satisfaction.

“Keep your eyes open,” he muttered and she nodded once, hard. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and his dug into her hips and held on as he pounded into her, giving free rein to the beast that roared inside his head. He pounded until he couldn’t remember anything about the day, until all the fear was gone from her eyes, leaving only dazed passion. Her body arched and she cried out again as she came, gripping him, dragging him with her.

He plunged a final time, and the pleasure was like a brick to his head. He slumped against her, pressing her into the door. His lungs pumped as he gasped for air, certain that if he died right then and there, he could want no more. Then he pulled back to see her face, and knew he had to have her again. And again. She was panting, but her mouth curved. And she looked… proud. Incredibly satisfied, but proud, just the same.

“That was really, really good,” she said.

He laughed, then wheezed in another breath. “I think three reallys would about kill me, but I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

“I’m living life on the edge lately. I say we go for it.”

Thursday, February 1, 1:30 a.m.

Someone was crying again. Bailey could hear the plaintive wail through the walls. A door opened down the hall, followed by a hollow thud, then silence. It happened about two or three times every night.

Then her door flew open, bouncing back against the concrete wall. He came in and grabbed her by the blouse that was now tattered and rank. “You lied to me, Bailey.”

“Wh-?” She cried out when the back of his hand connected with her cheek.

“You lied to me. Alex’s key is not in her house.” He shook her, hard. “Where is it?”

Bailey stared at him, unable to speak. She’d told Alex to hide the key. She had no idea where it could be. “I… don’t know.”

“Then let’s see if we can make your brain work a little better.” He yanked, dragging her from the room, and she tried to make her mind shut down. Tried to keep herself from saying anything more. Tried to keep herself from praying to die.

Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 2:10 a.m.

Alex’s body was sore in all the right places. She rolled her head on the pillow to look at him, the only movement she could muster. Daniel lay on his back as, openmouthed, he struggled to fill his lungs.

“I hope you don’t need CPR,” she muttered, “because I don’t think I can move.”

His laugh was half groan. “I think I’ll live.” He rolled to his side and pulled her against him, so that they lay spooned together. “But I needed it,” he added quietly.

“So did I,” she whispered. “Thank you, Daniel.”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, reached to turn off the light, and pulled the blanket over them. She’d started to drift off when he sighed. “Alex, I need to talk to you.”

She’d figured this was coming. “Okay.”

“Tonight you said your mother told Crighton that you’d seen him with Tom’s blanket.”

Alex swallowed. “Tom was my dad. He died when I was five.”

“Meredith told me. What was so special about the blanket?”

“It was my dad’s camping blanket. We didn’t have a lot of money, but camping was cheap and he liked being outside. Sometimes we’d all pile in the car and go to the lake and fish and swim… Then at night he’d make a fire and he’d wrap me and Alicia up in that old blanket and hold us on his lap while he told us stories. My mom kept all of his stuff out in Craig’s garage in case Alicia and I wanted it someday. I remember Craig didn’t like that very much. He was very possessive of my mother.”

“So what did you see, honey?”

“I don’t know, but I know there’s something. I keep remembering thunder and lightning. Mary said she was a little surprised when I insisted starting the day after Alicia died. We just need to go back another day. That’s all.”

“No, that’s not all.” His arm tightened around her waist. “You’re going to be mad, and I don’t blame you. Just remember, I was trying to do the right thing at the time.”

Frowning, Alex rolled to look up at him. “What?”

He stayed on his side, his expression grim. “This hasn’t been in any of the press releases and we’ve been able to keep it quiet. But two of the three bodies we found in ditches had a hair wrapped around the big toe. The hairs are at least ten years old.” His chest expanded, then fell. “And they match your DNA exactly.”

Alex was stunned. “My DNA? How do you know? I’ve never given you a sample.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes, you did. Remember Tuesday when you were leaving to go with Ed to Bailey’s house and I kissed you and pulled your hair?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “You did it on purpose. Why? Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I was trying-”

“Not to hurt me,” she finished. “Daniel…” She shook her head, wanting to be annoyed, but he looked so miserable that she couldn’t find it in her. “It’s okay.”

He opened his eyes. “It is?”

“Yeah. You were trying to do the right thing. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay.” He pulled her back against him. “Let’s go to sleep.”

She snuggled back into him. Then the full import of his words struck her, and despite the heat radiating from his body, she felt cold. “He has her hair,” she whispered.

“I know, baby.”