“I don’t care,” I seethe through gritted teeth as I remove a one-hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and pass it to him. “Keep the damn change.”

“You got it.”

I say nothing for the rest of the trip, just sit in the back seat and plan my next move. Find Shannon’s ex, Troy. This is all connected to him.

We pull up at the club and I throw another fifty over the front seat as I jump out. I jog up to the entrance and thankfully get past the bouncers without a problem.

The club is dark, with strobe lights everywhere. It’s as pitiful as I remember. I go straight up to the bar and ask for Troy. The bartender looks me up and down, but points to a darkened corner of the club. I thank him and turn away, heading for the corner he indicated. There’s a small round table and I recognize Troy as he sits there, surrounded by girls and two people I never expected to see.

“Stone,” the woman gasps, scrambling to her feet.

“Effie.” I incline my head slightly at her, my eyes never leaving Shannon’s ex-boyfriend.

“Can I help you with something?” Harold Kensington asks gruffly. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“This won’t take a minute,” I promise. “I just need to speak with Troy. Privately.”

“Anything you have to say to me,” Troy slurs, gesturing around with his hands, “you can say in front of my friends.”

I consider his words in silence for a moment then nod. “Okay,” I agree, spurring into action.

I grab him by his shirt and drag him up, pinning him against the wall as I punch him in the face.

“Start talking,” I growl.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he whines, holding his hands up to his bloody nose. “I don’t know anything.”

“Wrong answer.”

Arrested on my wedding day.

I could almost laugh at the irony, if I wasn’t so damn miserable. I’m sitting in a dirty cell in my mother’s wedding dress, arrested for a murder I know Troy committed. They didn’t even let me keep my wheelchair.

I sigh and close my eyes, my shoulders slumping in defeat. It’s almost morning, and I’ve been told I’ll be transferred soon to town, where I’ll face the judge. I can’t deny it. I’m fucking terrified.

What’s going to happen to me? Will they put me in jail for twenty-five years? Execute me? My chest tightens as panic starts to set in, my breathing becomes labored and I feel like I might throw up. Or faint. Or both.

What must Stone be thinking? If he hadn’t regretted marrying me before, he sure does now. I feel tears pricking at the back of my eyelids, but I refuse to let them out. If I start crying now, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to stop.

Stone kissed me, right before I left with the police. At the time, I thought it was love, but now I’m sure my heart was just playing tricks on me. It wasn’t a kiss of love, no matter how much I wish it was. It was a kiss of sadness. One last kiss of regret. I’m going to lose Saddles; that fact hurts my heart more than anything else. The bar that was my daddy’s pride and joy for all of his life is about to be sold off to pay his debts. I should have fought harder, convinced Stone not to file for an annulment. Sure, he never said that, but where is he now? Probably drowning in a bottle somewhere.

I think about Zeke. The poor kid who’s already been through so much in his short life. First his mom, then his dad . . . now me. He was just starting to trust again. Just starting to smile again. I hope he’s okay.

I hear a noise and my head shoots up. One of the young officers who arrested me at my wedding steps into the light and unlocks the cell door. He has a wheelchair, and my heart sinks. It’s time.

The officer helps me into my chair, but doesn’t handcuff me. I’m slightly thankful for that small amount of dignity he’s given me. He pushes me out of the cell and down a long, cold stone corridor before exiting into the main waiting room of the local police station. I can’t bring myself to look up, see all those people I know. They’ll never think of me in the same way again. I’m a pariah, an outcast. A criminal.

“Shannon?” I hear a male voice call, and hope blooms in my heart. Could it be? I’m almost too afraid to look.

But then he’s there, dropping to his knees in front of my wheelchair, grabbing me and holding me tightly, as if he never wants to let me go. I start to cry as I cling to the front of his shirt, and he doesn’t try to stop me. He doesn’t push me away. He just keeps murmuring, over and over. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Let it all out. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“Shannon!” I look up through my tears as Ruth and Zeke run into the police station. I barely have time to brace myself before Zeke throws himself into my arms, tears streaming down his face as we hug each other tight.

“How are you doing, Shan?” Ruth asks, wiping away a few tears of her own.

“She’s going to be fine,” Stone says firmly, his eyes fixed on me. “We’re going to go home, and we’re going to be just fine.”

I hear a commotion at the other end of the station, and we all pause as I see Effie and Kensington in handcuffs. “What the hell?” I gasp. Then I see him. The reason for my nightmares. The man I once called my lover. Except he doesn’t look as powerful as I once remembered him. There’s blood on the front of his shirt, he’s lost a lot of weight, and there are bits of tissue inside his nose. He’s a mess.

“Shannon,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He looks me up and down. “Why are you in a wedding dress?” I don’t get the chance to answer him as he’s taken away.

Effie and Harold are still protesting their innocence about something; I’m still not even sure why they’ve been arrested. I turn my eyes up to Stone, who explains everything:

Rachel was a twenty-five-year-old prostitute, who also had a terrible drug habit. When her pimp had refused to pay her bill, Troy had been instructed to ‘take care of the problem’. A sense of relief floods through me at the knowledge that the truth is finally out. I knew Troy had killed that poor girl in the water, but I’d never been able to prove it.

But Stone isn’t done yet.

Daddy had tried to see me before he died, but Troy told him I was sick. When Daddy told him of his financial troubles, Troy had offered to pay for the refurbishments. My father had accepted his offer, never knowing the money really came from Troy’s boss, Kensington, the secret head of the most prominent drug gang in town. When Daddy had been unable to pay his bill in time, Troy and Effie had gone hunting. They’d set the dogs loose, knowing they’d go after Lady . . . and Daddy.

I listen to his story as tears pour down my face. My poor father. All he’d ever wanted in life was to provide for his family. He didn’t deserve to pay for his mistakes in such a horrible way.

I can almost hear his voice now.

“Don’t cry, buttercup,” he says with a smile as he wipes away my tears. “Clearly, that boy has no idea what a treasure you are.”

I smile through my tears as Daddy wipes at my cheeks with a tissue. I’d really liked Zachariah, but he’d used me to get to Natalie. They always did.

“Oh, Daddy,” I cry. “Won’t I ever find a boy who likes me?”

“Of course you will, buttercup,” he says gruffly. “You’re only fourteen. One day, you’re going to meet a handsome young man, and he’s going to wipe away your tears, and treat you like the princess I know you are.”