“That was a hard few weeks for you,” he murmured and she lifted her head again.

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated. “I know about Doug. How he left.”

“Who told you?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Barlow. Damn his meddling.”

“I asked first. For what it’s worth, he feels horrible. When I heard the story, so did I.” She looked down, saying nothing and he felt compelled to fill the silence. “Olivia, your ex was an ass. But even though I know he hurt you, I’m glad he left. I’m glad I met you. I know you don’t believe me, but I’d been waiting for you. Maybe my whole life.”

She finally looked up, her eyes filled with hurt. “Then why did you say her name?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll never know. I do know that I only drank too much twice in my life. Once eighteen years ago, and then, that night with you. Maybe I was scared. I met you and I knew. I knew you were special. Maybe too special. It was like you could see inside me, and I didn’t want anyone that close.”

“Because they’d find out what you didn’t want anyone to know.”

He nodded. “Olivia, Dana was never more than a fantasy. She made things happen, she stood for the same people I’d been working to help for years. She was a crusader. But I never had anything else in common with her. We never stayed up all night talking about everything under the sun. I certainly never told her about Megan. I don’t know why I said her name that night. I can only tell you that after I met you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

She held his eyes in the darkness. “And if she were to suddenly become free?”

And come back, like her fiancé’s old love had. “I wouldn’t go. Because I’m not free. I wasn’t from the moment I met you.” He traced his fingertips over her cheek, her lips. “You might not believe that now. But if you give me time, heart, trust… you will.”

Her lips curved, so slightly he might have missed it had he not been so focused on her face. “Helluva line, David.”

“No line. You’ll see. I’ll show you.” He cradled her head in his palm and pulled her back to his chest. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Wednesday, September 22, 6:25 a.m.

He pulled into his parking place behind the Deli, annoyed. Austin hadn’t texted back and Kenny’s cell phone account had been frozen. He entered through the kitchen to find his staff already at work preparing breakfast sandwiches. He grunted a greeting and they grunted right back, just as they did every morning. Important to keep a routine in case anyone became suspicious.

He’d left his hat behind. He still couldn’t get over that stupidity.

He switched on the television behind the counter and stood watching the news. Last night’s fire was big news. Four dead. Several injured, including a firefighter. Then came the bomb scare at the school and the death of Detective Kane.

He made a mental note to cut back on his pastrami order.

The next segment was Captain Abbott delivering a message to Austin, complete with interpreter, begging Austin to contact them. My priority is finding Austin before the cops do. Using one of his disposable cells, he entered Austin’s number.

It’s Kenny. New account. Cops took old fon. Where r u? I have place you can hide.

He hit SEND, then started another. Cops?ed me all night. Know about u. I didn’t tell, swear. They lie. Don’t trust them. And he hit SEND again.

He closed his phone, slipped it in his pocket. He wouldn’t panic. If the cops knew about him, they’d have been here waiting in full SWAT gear. He clipped his mike tuner to his belt, put the bud in his ear and hoped Austin checked his messages soon.

Wednesday, September 22, 7:00 a.m.

Olivia must have slept because a trilling cell phone alarm woke her up. She lay spooned against David, not opening her eyes as he reached over her to silence the alarm. He ran his hand up her arm, cupping her neck and massaging the base of her skull with his thumb. “We have to get up.”

The events of the night replayed in her mind and a wave of raw grief washed over her. “I don’t want to,” she whispered. “This hurts.”

“He was a good man. A good cop. You loved him. It’s going to hurt.”

Her eyes burned. Stubbornly she held them closed. “Can we pretend it’s not morning for five more minutes? Please?”

“Sure.” His voice was husky but sweet and suddenly not what she needed.

He’d put distance between their bodies and she knew why. She pressed back against him, feeling him hard and ready.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I can’t help it, though. Not when I wake up with you.”

Last night she’d maneuvered around her own grief. Now she needed him to make the day go away, for just a few minutes more.

“David, if last night hadn’t happened, how would you have woken me up?”

She heard the sudden intake of his breath. “I’d be inside you.” And then he was, hard and full, stretching her, making her gasp. “Like that.” He splayed one big hand across her abdomen to pull her closer, pushing deeper.

“And then?” she whispered.

“And then I’d ride you hard.” And he did, making her moan, writhe. Beg for more. His pace was fast and furious and when his thumb found her most sensitive place she went up like a rocket, light bursting against her closed eyelids. He followed with a groan, his body going rigid, his hands gripping her hips as he ground himself into her.

They lay shuddering together, panting like sprinters. Later she might worry over how he’d gotten so good, but for now she was grateful he’d pushed the day away a few more minutes.

Her breathing returned to normal, bringing with it the knowledge she could put the day off no longer. They both had jobs to do. She opened her eyes, their two cell phones on the nightstand the first thing she saw.

And something clicked.

“He takes their cell phones,” she murmured and felt David stiffen in surprise.

He leaned up on his elbow and stared down at her. “Excuse me?”

She looked up at him urgently. “This guy takes their cell phones. Tomlinson, Val, and now Kenny. He’s taken all of their phones.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet.” She pulled him down for a hard kiss. “I have to go.” She rolled to sit on the edge of the bed, then stopped, another truth asserting itself. She looked over her shoulder, saw he’d realized it, too. “We, um, forgot something this time.”

His gray eyes were intense, even though his cheeks had reddened beneath his morning stubble. “You’re safe with me, Olivia.”

Her own cheeks heated. It was an awkward conversation, to say the least. “Me too. They checked me six ways to Tuesday when I donated my kidney to Mia, and there hasn’t been anyone since. But… I’m not on the Pill. I should have been more careful.”

Still lying on his side, he ran his palm lightly down her arm, intertwining his fingers with hers. “I waited for you for a long time. I’m not walking away.”

She swallowed. “It’s just… I grew up without a father. I should have been careful.”

“I understand that,” he said steadily. “But I’m not walking away.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “Now go, get in the shower or we’ll both be late for work.”

Wednesday, September 22, 7:30 a.m.

Austin Dent opened his eyes. The sun was up. He’d slept a little. Worried a lot.

His mom would be worried sick, even though she’d been the first and only text he’d sent when he got away. I’m ok. Borrowed your car. Didn’t do anything wrong. Sorry.

His heart still thundered when he remembered watching the police car pull into his driveway. Run. Cell in hand, he’d grabbed a hoodie from a chair and escaped through his bedroom window. He’d run through the woods, not looking back until he’d come to a neighbor’s house. The neighbor had left a bicycle outside and he’d taken it, riding as fast as he could to the truck-stop diner where his mother slung hash all night. Her car was there. Luckily, his keys and wallet had been in his pockets when he’d run.