 
Return to Me

By Riley Sinclair

Published by Riley Sinclair at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 Riley Sinclair
Chapter One

A single lamp stood guard in the silk and lace bedchamber, its fragile glow fighting a losing battle against the gloom that permeated the room like a living breathing monster. Paige reached out to touch the gilded edge, long fingers curling around smooth metal, seeking any comfort to be had from its cool brass exterior.

The light tipped toward the bed and for a breath catching moment the shadows gathered deeper, pressing ever closer-threatening to choke the life from her. Fresh water pearls clanked together at the ends of their fringed strings, tinkering as she swung the lamp from one end of the room to the other, brandishing the antique like a broadsword in a battle, throwing light into the corners and stamping down the ever present fear that was never far from the usually quiet recesses of her mind.

"Damn Paige- you almost brained me with that thing!"

"Oh! Hailey! You scared me!" Paige beat a hasty retreat, wincing as she watched her friend struggle for composure. "I guess I scared you too." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

"A lunatic almost whacking me in the head with a table lamp? Why would that scare me?" She quipped. "Ah...Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind putting that thing down?"

"Sorry." The lamp made an audible thud as she plunked it back into its rightful place. "I thought you were asleep." She offered the dual explanation/apology with slumped shouldered guilt.

"Sleep? Who can sleep with all that tossing and turning you were doing?"

"I can't sleep." Paige shrugged, smothering a sigh. The last thing she wanted at the moment was a pity party.

"I gathered as much." Hailey cracked. "Are you okay?" She continued, her usual snarky tone changing to one of open concern.

"I'm okay."

"So why all the heavy breathing? Don't tell me," The perky blonde teased, her voice catching a little as she bounced onto the bed. "You were having a hot dream."

"I wish." She smirked, edging closer to the bedside table.

"Pick up that lamp again and I'll be forced to tackle you." Hailey warned, only half in jest.

"I'm making room for you." Paige was offended. "I take it this is your oh so subtle way of kicking me out of my own space?"

"You've got that right, Peaches. Sleeping on the floor by your bed is proving hazardous to my health."

"You do realize this house had eight bedrooms."

"Don't make me move, Paige." She whined. "I'm tired."

"Oh, fine." Paige grumbled, snatching a pillow and blanket from the overstuffed bed. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"You could sleep in one of the other six available beds in this house, you know."

"No. They're creepy."

"Suit yourself, but you'll probably be sore in the morning."

Paige was attuned enough with Hailey to know she was shrugging her shoulders and rolling over, wrapping herself in the blanket like a human pastry. She didn't need light to see these actions; Hailey was nothing if not predictable. In fact, Paige sometimes thought her friend to be dependable in her very undependable nature. She never meant to let anyone down, Paige was certain, but Hailey was the sort of person that some may have unflatteringly termed 'flighty'.

Paige had always thought of the girl as spontaneous and just a little bit wild. She dressed on the edge of fashion, most of the time she swore when she spoke, and her hair and make-up were usually done to the nines in some hot extreme or the other.

She was consistently mistaken for a much older girl. Sometimes Paige wondered why the outgoing, bold golden girl had chosen her as a friend and confidant. Hailey was one of the most popular girls in her school, if rumor could be believed.

Paige wasn't there to see that aspect of her best friends life, since she herself went to an all-girls school on the East coast. But whenever she was home during breaks and holidays, it was impossible not to notice how Hailey was always surrounded by a group of boys and, more often than not, grown men. Both the high school seniors and the college boys and the ones who sported five o'clock shadow and more mature mannerisms and dress made Paige equally discomfited.

To say she knew next to nothing about men, never mind the fragile inner workings that made up relationships between the sexes would have been the understatement of the century. Much to her humiliation, and Hailey's exasperation, Paige had thus far shown little interest in changing her ignorance of matters of the heart. She was, however, well versed in what passed as loving interaction in her own household; her parent's particular brand of apathy had been a hard act to follow and as far as seventeen year old Paige was concerned, she'd just as soon not even try.

With one year left till graduation, her plans were set in stone, at least for the moment. Like most teenage girls, she had charted the course for her future a long time ago. Also typical of youth, her sole reason for existence was to get the hell out of her house and the sooner the better.

Unlike most teenage girls that Paige was acquainted with, she had a very good reason for wanting to put her hometown firmly behind her. Denmari hated her and the feeling went beyond mutual; she sometimes wondered how much emotion one person was capable of bearing before...before what? It was a question Paige considered more often than was probably healthy.

Before what indeed, she drew methodic, invisible circles in the smooth polished wood of her bedroom floor and turned the ugly thoughts over and over in her mind. Until bad things happened, she finally decided, though she wasn't quite sure what that entailed.

She hated her step-father, really and truly despised the man, but for all the anger that churned within her slight frame, she was deathly afraid of the man who held her sole guardianship in his swarthy hands-and more often than not-over her head. In a way, that made her rage burn that much brighter, because she wandered through her days hiding behind a smile that, over the years, had worn too thin to be wholly convincing; most days she felt like a caged animal.

Hailey wouldn't have understood what it was like to live in this cold tower with its glass walls; Paige sighed, turning away from her friend in the too-dark bedroom and trying once more to get comfortable enough to sleep. Sometimes she wished to be more like her outgoing friend; it was hard not to be around someone like Hailey for any true length of time and not be affected in some way, shape, or form by such boundless energy, such effervescence.

But Paige very much feared she just didn't have it in her. She was happiest when she was alone, wandering through nearby forest preserves or listening to music through an old pair of headphones in her room. That and the good grades she always managed to bring home had pretty much doomed any chance she may have had at being popular.

The whole bubbly thing didn't work for her and she wasn't accustomed to taking risks like Hailey. Then there was the indisputable fact that Denmari would have probably killed her by now if she'd dared to get into half the trouble that Hailey always seemed to be knee deep in. Admit it, Paige silently told herself, you're quiet and reserved and just a little on the shy side. She knew it was all true. Hell, everyone knew it was true and that it was unlikely to change anytime soon.

Her mother had been a quiet sort of woman too, Paige reflected, huffing out an icy breath and shifting deeper into her covers. Layna Frey had been a real lady, mostly silent and always reserved but not afraid of her own shadow or prone to sociallyawkward moments the way she herself was, Paige thought dismally, though more than once she had wondered if strength or stupidity had been the driving force behind Layna's marriage to Denmari.

The plain speaking Italian had come into their lives when Paige was a young child, a scant year and a half after a freeway accident had torn the Frey family apart and left Layna the widowed single mother of a confused, heartbroken little girl.

Maybe Denmari had been charming once upon a long, long time ago. Paige had been too young to say for sure but she thought he must have been, since her mother had made the life changing decision to marry the rough edged Sicilian native.

Lord knew they hadn't been hurting for money; her aviator father left his wife and child fairly well off and Layna was the last living member of the Kellerman family-the only child of an investment banker and a couture jewelry designer. From what Paige had been told, Grandma and Grandpa Kellerman had possessed more money than God.

Layna Frey had inherited a fortune before she'd ever tied the knot the first time around. Not surprising was the fact that Denmari had been in charge of everything since her mother's untimely death.

Paige was pretty sure there wasn't much left. Between Denmari's love of Cuban cigars and gold jewelry, Paige was certain he was burning through the Frey fortune at a rapid pace. Not that she cared, not anymore.

She was going to go back to school after Easter Sunday had come and gone and she was going to start her senior year-finally. And then, once she had walked across that stage in her orange and silver cap and gown, she was never going to set foot in the city of Helena, Montana ever again. Why should she? Therewas nothing here for her, except maybe Hailey and Erik.

She frowned for a second before deciding that if they didn't want to go away with her, then she could always visit them. Either way would work just as well. But Paige intended to get the hell out of dodge as soon as she was legally able to do so.

She knew she had a college fund that Denmari hadn't been able to touch all of these years; it would be enough to see her through four years of schooling and maybe even afford her an extra or two, like a used car and cell phone. She would come back home the day she graduated and stay long enough to pack a bag and purchase a bus ticket and Denmari could have the whole damn house and everything in it for all she cared.

She was going to leave and never look back and maybe, in time, she would forget all about Montana and her momma's bruises, and her loss...and fear.She would live without the constant nagging fear and oppression and she would love every second of her new existence. Maybe she would even get married someday. Just one more year until her life began...

***

The incandescent pre-dawn hours of not-quite-night-not-yet morning had been Paige's favorite part of the day for as long as she could recall. When her mother had been alive, the two of them had been in the habit of rising early to greet the day.

Layna would never have expected her six year old daughter to be up before the sun, but that's just what happened; despite initial encouragement to go back to sleep for a little bit, Paige would rub the sleep from her wide brown eyes and help her mom begin breakfast.

Over the next few years, before death had stolen Layna away, Paige had enjoyed long, quiet pearl gray mornings puttering around the house with her mother. Not even Layna's marriage to Denmari had been able to alter the tradition; in a way, Paige supposed that death had also failed to break their routine, since years later she still made it a point to race the sunrise to the finish line.

Most of the time, Paige accomplished nothing more substantial than drinking a glass of juice of sipping a cup of tea, on the front porch if the weather was good, her thin legs swinging back and forth against the faded wood deck while she chipped at the white paint on the porch swing.

Her mother would have chastised her for being destructive, had she still been alive to do so, Paige knew, watching a particularly large chunk of paint fall to the wooden deck floor. Denmari wasn't likely to notice and even if he did, she seriously doubted that he would care enough to mention it to her.

Paige shrugged her bare shoulders and threw back the last of the chilled juice she'd snagged from the kitchen, frowning when the motion caused the spaghetti strap of her tank top to slide off her shoulder and down her arm.

"What are you doing out here? No, wait, what are you doing awake?"

"Oh, hi." Paige turned at the sound of Hailey's voice. "I always get up this early."

"Seriously?" Hailey frowned and made a show of yawning and stretching her arms high above her head before swinging them behind her back and pushing her chest out in a move that would have caused Paige to blush had there been anyone else around to witness the blatant display of flesh.

"Is there any coffee?" She pleaded, grabbing the swing frame and leaning onto it. "Jeez, Paige, you need to have this thing painted."  
Paige shrugged and scooted away from her friend and the flurry of tiny paint chips the blonde had rained down when she had grabbed the swing. "Maybe."

"Maybe there's coffee." Hailey's eyes lit up.

"No, maybe I'll paint this thing someday." Paige quipped, knowing full well that it wouldn't happen. "But there's coffee in the kitchen."

"Oh thank God." Hailey gushed, but made no move to go back into the house.

"Come on," Paige rose to her feet with a wry smile. "I'll make you a pot of coffee."

"You're the best, Paige."

"Right." She snorted, leading the way into the still silent house and thoroughly convinced that she would never be 'the best' at anything.

# Chapter Two

Hailey breezed out the door several hours later with a wink and a wave, her trademark 'see ya later' gesture that never failed to bring Paige's lips into a tiny curve of a smile. She waved back before closing the door and taking a deep breath.

A casual glance at the ancient grandfather clock in the entryway-and an even more covert glance out a dusty curtain-told her it was almost time. Barely resisting the urge to run up the stairs, Paige forced herself to walk and act natural as she made her way to her room. She even paused outside her bedroom door to elongate her slim body into a stretch as Denmari passed behind her in the hall.

"I'll be back." He tossed over his shoulder on his way down the darkened stairwell.

"You're leaving? How long will you be gone?" Paige hoped her voice didn't betray the anxiety that began to burn a trail down her throat.

"Tomorrow." He replied after a brief pause.

"Have fun!" She called out, relief a tangible thing. She wouldn't have to hurry. Well, she amended, taking in the long slant of late afternoon sunlight as it fell across her bed, there would be no need to hurry back-later. Much, much later. Paige grinned and slipped out of her plain t-shirt and old blue jeans. Maybe she would spend the night with Guy. Then again, probably not, she frowned, tossing aside several tops until she came to a cherry colored halter-it was one of her favorites and also incredibly flattering. The thin shiny material left her shoulders bare, clung to the high globes of her breasts, and skimmed the top of her underwear.

"Pants, pants, pants..." She chanted, tapping a fingernail against her lips and frowning into her closet. "Maybea skirt..." No, she discarded the idea a split second later. She may not have been well versed in the way of men, but neither was she completely naive.

"Aha!" She crowed, leaping forward to snag a pair of dark shimmery jeans that, much like the halter, fit her like a second skin. Downstairs, the clock chimed five times, a reminder that she was late, again.

"Dang it!" She cursed, hopping from one foot to the other into a pair of shoes and snapping up her purse. Thirty seconds later she was out the door and running down the dirt and gravel driveway toward the street. She could hear the roar of an engine approaching and felt her heartbeat kick in swift response.

Guy swung into sight and up to the curb a few seconds later, his rogue grin lazy and inviting all wrapped together. Paige climbed onto the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around his lean waist, squeezing him tight in lieu of an actual greeting.

"Ready?"

She nodded, then, remembering he couldn't see her, shouted "Let's go!"

Guy wound the bike through a small maze of city streets at the base of the hill below Paige's country style subdivision before heading out toward the old aqueduct near the edge of town. The night was unusually mild and the wind whipping through her hair felt positively wonderful. Paige grinned and laid her cheek against the smooth leather at Guys back. If Denmari knew she'd been out riding, with Guy, no less...she shivered at the very thought, her smile slipping a notch or two.She didn't think she was allowed to ride motorcycles, but she definitely knew she wasn't allowed to date, a rule she found ridiculous. She was seventeen years old, for heavens' sake!

Normally she didn't break the rules, okay, more like never, not until Guy caught her eye at the movie theater a month back, when she'd first come home on summer break. He'd smiled and she'd ducked into the ladies room and later, even though she had done her best to steadfastly ignore him, he'd sauntered over to her and struck up a conversation. He had been taking her out on his bike every week since then. He'd been kissing her too.

Excitement was still singing in her blood as Guy pulled off the road next to an isolated grassy spot. Shadows were beginning to form in the corners of the world and Paige grinned up at the palest hint of a moon as she climbed off the bike to follow Guy across the small clearing.

"Come here." He told her, turning around suddenly to snatch her into his arms for a kiss. His lips were firm and hungry on her own and he was shaking by the time he released her.

"Hi." She smiled up at him.

"Hi." He tugged at a section of her brown hair, one side of his mouth twitching up at the corner. "I brought you something tonight; something special."

"You did?" She grinned, pulling away from him.

"You wanna see it?"

"No." Paige teased with an eye roll that would have made Hailey proud.

"Oh, well, then-"

"I was kidding!"

"Good, then spread this blanket while I grab your surprise." He told her with a wink before turning and jogging back to the bike to dig into the satchel at the back. It took Paige a moment to recognize the cylindrical object he pulled out of the bike's 'trunk' for what it was-a bottle of booze.

"Uh..."

"What do you think?" He grinned and dropped down beside her to pop the cork.

"Well..." She wet her lips, clearly at a loss.

"Don't tell me you've never had a drink." He chided.

"Guilty." She shrugged, glancing away and back again, in spite of herself. The pungent scent coming from the bottle was both intriguing and unnerving.

"It's wine. Here, take a sip."

"Oh, I don't think so." She shook her head in automatic response, even while she was reaching for the long necked bottle.

"Uh huh, sure." Guy's voice soothed as she took the wine into her hand, tipped it slightly, felt the sweet and sour liquid trickle over her tongue.

"It's good." She announced in surprise.

"Told you so." Guy scooted closer and they drank in a mostly companiable silence, passing the bottle back and forth between the ever decreasing space from their bodies and talking only occasionally.

Before long, silence gave way to heavy conversation, which soon gave way to laughter that grew as the level in the bottle shrank.

"You're my girl, you know that?"

Guy's voice was heavy with feeling, almost as heavy as the arm that wound around Paige's narrow waist. She wasn't sure how to answer that question, or even if he'd asked her a question. She giggled and leaned into his kiss to run her tongue across his lips, an unusually bold move that wrought another shudder from the man she hung on to for dear life.

"Oh, Paige, Paige..." He groaned, cupping her through the silky material of her top.

It felt as though she swelled to fill his rough palm completely, her nipple pebbled beneath the thin top and she gasped in surprise before allowing herself to be swept away by the all new sensation. Guy kept one hand on her back as he squeezed the full weight of her breast and rubbed his palm flat against her turgid nipple.

She felt as if she were swimming when he shifted their position on the blanket to bring their bodies closer together. She moaned out loud at finding Guy half leaning back in a sitting position and herself pulled on top of him. A quick tug of her knees opened her jean clad thighs even wider to him until she was fully straddling the bulge that strained against the front of his own jeans. Paige scooted her bottom back to get a better look, marveling at the thick ridge before Guys trembling hands gripped her hips and desperately shifted her back onto him.

"Wait..." The protest was uttered weakly, an after-thought.

"Honey-" He groaned, flexing beneath her trim body.

"I've never-" She gasped at the pressure of his hand on the back of her head, opened her mouth to his tongue. He seemed to sense what she was trying to tell him and he backed off slightly, although not without effort.

"Shhh, we won't go too far. I promise." He soothed, still moving his hips beneath her.

"Ahhh, okay..." She buried her head into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, feeling a little dizzy at each stroke that set her core aflame. Heat pooled between her legs at the rhythmic pull of his hands over her hips.

"Let me make you feel good." He whispered, taking his hands off her waist long enough to unzip her pants and slip two fingers inside.

Paige was dimly aware of the fact that his hand must be cramped because her pants really were pretty tight, and then she was aware of nothing at all as his fingers slicked over her sensitive nub with a frantic urgency. Her skin felt hot and achy and ready to burst all at once; she was barely aware of digging her fingers into his shoulders and sliding her body over his hard length through the thick denim of their clothes, she only knew that the harder she ground against his ridge and the faster she moved over him, trapped his fingers against her and forced them to rub harder and faster until she cried out in the sweetest satisfaction she'd ever known.

"God, Paige." He whispered a moment later, his breathing hard and fast.

"Ahhh." She sighed, her heartbeat still galloping as awareness returned in slow degrees. Crickets chirped, the zipper of her pants dug into her pubic bone, and if the wet spot on Guys jeans was anything to go by, the ride home was going to be uncomfortable for him too.

They dozed there on the sweet smelling grass, waking to find a bright moon high overhead-the night had fallen in full.

"You okay?" Guy yawned and rose to a standing position.

"Yeah." She nodded, only slightly embarrassed at what had transpired between them. "I'd better be getting home..."

"Yeah, okay." He dug a booted toe into the ground before giving her a small smile and walking her back to the bike.

The ride home was indeed very uncomfortable and Paige did her best not to distract Guy from his driving by squirming in the seat.

Every light was burning at the Frey/Denmari homestead when Guy and Paige pulled up just after midnight.

"Paige?" His tone held the hint of a question.

"Oh no..." She exhaled, defeated even before she stepped off the bike. Denmari stepped off the porch and strode toward her, his face an angry mask as he seemed to take in the scene in a matter of starkly clarifying seconds.

"Get in the house. And you-" He pointed a stiff finger to Guy, "get the hell off of my property." He gripped Paige's arm close to her shoulder and half marched, half dragged her across the yard, up the porch stairs and into the house without turning around to see if he was obeyed. The sound of the motorcycle spitting out loose gravel told him that he had.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He roared, shoving the door open and unceremoniously dumping his step daughter inside.

Paige stumbled, her arms going out to brace her imminent fall, when she felt Denmari's fist twist in the front of her shirt and yank her off of her feet. He shoved his face close to her own and she recoiled.

"You smell like a brewery-and a whorehouse." He snapped, disgusted. "Who was that loser that you've been out whoring around with, Paige?" He demanded, giving her a shake.

"His name is Guy and he's not-"

"You're damn right he's not. You're never going to see him again."

"Oh yes I will." She protested, remnants of wine propping up her unwise bravado. The back handed slap her he gave her sent her sprawling across the cold tile floor and she found herself yanked up once again, toes dangling precariously off the floor. Her stomach roiled dangerously and the thought of the wrath she'd incur if she became ill was enough to freeze the blood in her veins.

"Either you tell him you're not to see him again, or I will. And if I do it, nobody's ever going to see him. Ever. Again. Do I make myself clear?"

"I-"

"Answer me!"

"Okay!" She cried out, wanting nothing more than to retreat and escape and suddenly her wish was granted as she found herself thrust away from Denmari.

"Go clean yourself up. You disgust me."

***

"I can't go with you tonight."

"Sure you can." He grinned, leaning against the scarred old Oak tree, his face bathed in shadow and mystery. "Did anyone notice you leaving?"

"I don't think so, at least, I'm pretty sure I wasn't followed." She cast a nervous glance behind her, a fresh set of worries washing over her. That was all she needed-to get busted for sneaking out and while she was already in enough trouble, more or less, for that very same thing. But no, she reasoned, fighting to stay calm, if anyone had trailed her she would have been ousted-and hauled back home by now.

"Paige?"

"Sorry." She wrung her hands, reluctant to do what she'd set her mind to only hours before.

"Your chariot waits." He gestured to the large midnight blue motorcycle most people mistook for black in the dark that stood stationary in the gravel a few feet away.

"You...don't understand."

"You're scared you'll get caught?" He shrugged. "So we'll be extra careful this time. I'll have you back by two, Scouts honor." He teased, white teeth flashing in the dark.

"When were you ever a boy scout?" She demanded, feeling laughter bubble within to chase away the tension for a few precious seconds.

"Never." He admitted, pushing away from the rough bark. "But you love me anyway."

"I..." She stalled, taking a step back, feeling a pebble dig roughly into her heel through her thin sandals.

"Paige?"

"I can't do this anymore," She blurted, the words rushing together and leaving her breathless.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong baby?" He stopped within inches of her, tanned hands coming up to frame her pale face.

She closed her eyes, feeling his touch burn through her, the simple contact heating her to the core. Short bursts of pain beat a staccato rhythm deep in her chest and she leaned into him, memorizing everything she could in that instant. How he felt, his masculine scent, the thrum of his heartbeat, the scrape of his leathers against her cheek. The warmth. Tears stung her eyes, the liquid drops clinging to her lashes. It was time.

"This can't go on." She fought to keep her voice steady.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it's over. That we're done."

"Bullshit." He went still, finally absorbing the full impact of her statement.

"I can't be with you right now." She repeated, misery wrapping around her like a heavy cloak.

"Why?" He gripped her shoulders. "Just tell me why."

"I-" Her eyelids fluttered down, her hands coming up to cover his own. "I just can't." She tried.

"Paige please," His lips brushed her mouth, "tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

Why couldn't he accept what she was trying to tell him? Why was he making her do this? "You can't fix this." She groaned, flushed and disoriented under the hot kisses he claimed. It took every last shred of the tenuous willpower she possessed to push him away and put to words the one thing she knew would put an end to it all, would make him hate her.

"I don't love you...there's someone else."

***

The next several days brought about little change in the routine Paige had unwittingly fallen into. Days blended into night and back again in an unending, depressing circle. Hour after hour she waited for a phone call that never came, for a hope that never quite materialized. She was marking time until she could go back to school and she couldn't remember the last time her world had felt so positively gray. Hailey managed to summarize much of her angst in a few short, critical sentences.

"What you need is to get out of this house. God it's like a tomb in here. How can you stand it?" Her friend wrinkled her nose.

"It's been this way for years. Denmari likes it dark-the more this place looks like a dungeon, the happier he is. The house looked so different when mama was alive..." She lifted one slim shoulder. "You get used to it. Eventually."

"Well I don't think I could ever get used to this Victorian mausoleum." Hailey declared, crossing the room to pull her friend to her feet. "Come on, I'm taking you out tonight."

"No, really-"

"Don't argue. You can't sit here moping all night. It's not healthy."

"I am not moping." She argued, wrestling with Hailey for her small clutch purse. "I'm thinking. I'm being reflective and it's perfectly healthy."

"Fine. I'll give you a choice." The small blonde released the purse and took a step back, arms crossed over a chest that made a mockery of her otherwise small stature.

"This ought to be good." Paige muttered, eyes on the white matte ceiling. "Well go on then, lets here it." She insisted when Hailey only glared at her.

"Either you call him or you go out with me tonight."

"That's ridiculous!"

"It's reasonable!"

"Says who?"

"Okay how about this-either you call him or I will."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Paige stared wide eyed at her friend.

"It means that you're acting insane. I don't pretend to understand why you broke it off with him. I thought you loved him." Hailey rolled her eyes, putting emphasis on the word.

"I...did."

"You still do."

"Yeah-and?" Paige sighed, well aware even if Hailey wasn't that loving Guy was useless.

"So it's not too late to tell him that. Whatever problem you two had can be fixed. Just pick up the phone and call him. If you want, I'll talk to him for you."

"I know you would." Paige's tone softened. "But this is my problem to deal with."

"He misses you."

"He barely notices that I'm gone. He's out with a different girl every week."

"You're exaggerating." Hailey scoffed, blowing a wisp of light hair off her forehead.

"Not by much. The point is, he's moved on, and so have I. It's over, finished, done."

"Really, Paige? Just where is it that you've moved on to? Hiding up in your bedroom is not what I would call a fresh start. Especially not in this house. The air is stale as Hell." She paused to shove at the heavy casing above Paige's dresser. "Do these windows even open?"

"Probably not. I'm only up here in the summer. It's too hot to have the windows open, and how did we get stuck on this subject anyway?" She frowned.

"Because you're going to end up just like this poor, useless window, Paige! Rusty from lack of use. As your friend, I refuse to let that happen."

"If you were really my friend, you would leave me alone." Paige groused to a totally unsympathetic Hailey.

"No such luck. Get your dancing shoes on. We're going out."

"Would it do any good to argue?"

"You're seriously asking me that?"

"That's what I was afraid of." Paige heaved a sigh. "I'll go get dressed. But I don't want to go any place where Guy and I used to go."

"Of course not."

"Hailey."

"Okay, okay." She held up both purple tipped hands palm out in defense."We can hit someplace out of town. I'll be waiting in the car. Oh and Paige?"

"Yes?"

"Fix yourself up a little. You look like crap." She called out a second before the door swung shut behind her.

Paige did take pains with her appearance, doing the best she could with the tools available to her. Light foundation and concealer hid most of the dark circles that were, as of late, a permanent fixture beneath her stormy eyes.Mascara, lipstick and a thickly bristled brush finished the job and she turned away from the gilded edge mirror feeling confident that no one would ever guess she had spent most of the summer holed up in her room listening to sad love songs and crying. Next she debated the age old dilemma of what to wear. With no clue as to where Hailey planned on taking her, she decided to play it safe, opting for jeans, low heels, and a black top with lacy straps and a lace edged plunging neckline.

Her red clutch purse and silver hoop earrings completed the look and she bounded down the steps, through the parlor and was out the door before Denmari could ask her any questions.

"Took you long enough."

"Let's go."

"Curfew?" Hailey asked as they coasted down the hill.

"Eleven, same as always." She responded checking her makeup once more in the Mustang's flip down visor.

"That's only four hours from now."

"Then you had better step on it."

"You got it." Hailey grinned, ever the dare-devil, gunned the engine, and laughed as the car shot forward, headlights cutting a path through the dark night.

# Chapter Three

They drove to a hole in the wall place just outside of the city. Hailey expertly navigated her pride and joy through the blacktop and into a narrow space at the back of the poorly lit parking lot. Paige twisted in her seat for a better look at the low white brick building. A neon sign in the window boasted an all you can eat buffet and dancing. "Hailey are you sure about this place?"

"Dinner and dancing?" She shrugged, smoothing her skirt and slinging her purse over one toned, tanned shoulder. "What's not to be sure about?"

"It looks a little rough." She hesitated, climbing from the car but clinging to the door.

"Oh it does not."

"It's next to a truck stop."

"You wanted someplace out of the way and you have to be back home by eleven." Hailey patiently pointed out. "Now are you coming or not?"

Paige took a deep breath, almost considered telling Hailey to take her back home. After a moment though, she released her hold on the door and reluctantly followed her friend through the dark lot and into the brightly lit diner. One hand came up to shield her eyes as they adjusted to the glare of the overhead fluorescents, her pulse speeding up when several burly men in plaid shirts and hats turned to stare.

Actually, ogle was more like it, she sighed, unsurprised. She was used to it. Men, be they young or old, never failed to notice Hailey. It was like that everywhere they went. Men would turn and glance with mild interest at Paige for a split second before discarding her to gape at the blonde, wide eyed, pouty lipped girl at her side.

If Paige were a vain girl, or a jealous one, she might have taken offense at their quick perusal and even faster dismissal of her dark and more toned down beauty. But the truth was, she felt a sense of relief rather than envy. She wasn't comfortable taking center stage and the short once overs made her uncomfortable. She just wasn't the social, sexy creature that Hailey seemed to naturally embody.

She didn't live dangerously, at least not by choice, and although she wasn't exactly a wallflower, Paige knew she would never crave attention the way her friend seemed to. And personally she didn't feel that a group of men decked out in hats with the immortal words 'Keep on Truckin' emblazoned across the bills, was necessarily something to envy.

Paige smothered a giggle as she watched her ultra-tanned friend shamelessly flirt with the rowdy group. Weaving her way through the unusual mix of rough necks and teens, she sought out a booth near the door, slid hastily over the cracked red leather seat and set her purse beside the window before signaling the waitress.

The place was so crowded that it took the harried looking woman in the apron nearly ten minutes to plunk down a soda in front of Paige, but when it finally came, the drink was icy cold and completely satisfying.

She checked her watch after she'd finished her second Coke, shocked to find that forty-five minutes had come and gone and she still hadn't seen Hailey.

Scanning the crowd, she quickly surmised the reason behind the delay and averted her eyes, embarrassed enough to hastily turn away, only to come face to face with a sight that was much, much worse. A mere two tables away, Guy lounged in a booth that looked remarkably similar to the one she herself occupied.

Both sported worn leather and chipped table tops and were so identical they might as well have been the same booth. Only they weren't the same, and the girl draped over Guy's lap wasn't her. Paige felt her heart break all over again as she stared, transfixed, at the sight of the boy she had once given pieces ofherself to and his new date.

How many did this make, her bruised heart demanded. Four? Five? She didn't know but it didn't really matter. Watching him with someone new tore at her, period. How could he sit there and look so...normal. Why wasn't he hurting like she was? But most of all, how could he be kissing someone new while she was steeped in so much misery she feared she would drown in it? Paige doubted she would ever get over him, and he had forgotten all about her, from the word go. How dare he?

Betrayal warred with hurt, and Paige reeled from the uncharacteristic urge to scream. She wanted to yell and rage and throw things at him. She wanted in that moment to hurt him like he had hurt her, except...she had told him she was seeing someone else. The lie tasted every bit as bitter now as it had that night.

The air that swirled around her grew thick, the whir of the dusty ceiling fan above her head was too loud. Oh God she had to get out before she did something stupid like make a scene or worse, broke down in tears, which was I imminent, whether she bolted or stayed put.

She gathered her purse and scrambled clumsily from the booth, making a bee line for the grimy plate glass doors, eager to put the cigarette smoke and honkey tonk music and things she couldn't take seeing, behind her.

"Hey Paige!"

"Oh Lord no." She prayed, frantically swabbing at her eyes with her fingers. Maybe if she didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge him, he would think she was someone else and he would turn around and leave her alone. Oh, how badly she wished she was someone else, anyone else, but Paige Frey, daughter of a criminal, the girl who tried her best to survive; she had suffered alone more times than she cared to count. But she wasn't someone else and when Guy's hand settled on her shoulder and spun her around, she got the hint that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Stop already-didn't you hear me calling you? Hey," He frowned, "Are you crying? Paige?" His eyes were full of questions that she no longer had answers for.  
"No."

"Yes you are." He groaned.

"Just leave me alone, okay?" She pulled her arm from his grasp and dropped her watery gaze to the slick pavement. It had rained while she'd been inside sipping cola and watching the love of her life paw all over someone else. A fresh wave of tears threatened to overflow.

"Please don't do that."

"What do you care?"

"I care." He insisted, wrapping his arms around her, one hand winding around thick strands of dark hair and pressing her head to his t-shirt clad shoulder.

"Then why-" she started, quickly pressing together lips that tasted like salt before she could finish the humiliating query that was probably none of her business in the first place. Not now anyway.

"Hey, you broke it off with me," He gently reminded her, wiping at her cheek with the pad of one thumb.

"I guess I did." She swallowed, stiffening in his hold.

"So what is this about? What are you trying to tell me?" His breath warmed her cheek and she shoved away from him, suddenly alarmed that he meant to kiss her and fearing very much that she would be ill if he did.

"I am not trying to tell you anything. Let me go."

"Paige-"

"Go back to your date." She whispered without looking at him.

"Is that what you want?" A hard edge crept into his tone; Paige felt as though she were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

"Go." She forced herself to answer, her heart pounding as he glared down at her, sweet concern replaced by barely suppressed anger.

"Fine." He was gone before she could utter any second thoughts, any regrets...and she had plenty. Conflicting feelings churned in a sickening, twisting mass and she was desperate to get out, to get far away from this parking lot and this place.

After a brief debate over the wisdom of returning to the restaurant in hopes of locating Hailey, she opted not to bother. For one thing, there was the tricky issue of actually finding the girl. Paige checked her watch-at least thirty minutes had elapsed.

Hailey could be anywhere by now, and, she winced, her friend was liable to be with anyone at this stage in the evening. If she did somehow manage to track her down, convincing her to cut her fun short and leave would still be another matter.

The odds were not good, Paige decided, scanning the lot and sighing in relief when she spotted the payphone tucked close to the side of the building. It was rusted and looked so old she experienced a moment's panic that she'd lift the questionable receiver and find that it was broken. But for the first time in the entire wretched evening, luck was on her side. She hurriedly dug around in her purse, coming up with exact change to feed into the contraption.

Shaking fingers stabbed at the number pad and she kept her thoughts on simple things like soap and hand sanitizer while she waited anxiously for him to pick up. What if he wasn't at home? Whom else could she call if he refused to come and get her? But no, she acknowledged, if he were home, he'd never leave her stranded. The phone rang three times, then four. By the sixth shrill ring, she tasted defeat and was ready to hang up, unsure of what her next move would be and very, very scared.

"Hello?"

"Erik!" She exhaled on a rush.

"Hi...are you okay?"

To her abject mortification, she began to cry in lieu of an answer to his open concern. The warmth in his voice reached through the phone line and effectively opened the floodgates; once she'd gotten started, she couldn't seem to stop the hot flow of tears.

"Okay, okay...it's okay sweetie. Are you at home?"

"N-no."

"Just tell me where you are."

She managed to give him the name of the truck stop before replacing the receiver in the cradle, clinging to his promise to be there within the hour. He made it in twenty minutes. Tires squealed as they fought to find traction on wet pavement and she watched as he brought the truck to a screeching halt in front of her.He was out of the cab and around the heavy duty vehicle in record timing, kneeling before her to lift her tear stained face to meet his eyes. "Are you hurt?" His voice was steady.

"No." She shook her head and gulped.

"Tell me what-" He began, only to be interrupted by the bells jangling over the door.

"What the hell is going on?" Guy demanded, stepping out of the restaurant with both his date and Hailey in tow.

"Paige what is he doing here?" Hailey added, pushing Guy aside and hurrying over to where Erik was slowly helping Paige to her feet.

"Who's she?" The date put in, looking bored.

"It's nothing Tanya." Guy replied before swinging back to face Paige. "What's he doing here?"

She couldn't find the words to answer him, and so she was glad when Erik stepped forward and spoke for her. She was still reeling over being referred to as an 'it' and 'nothing'. The first embers of temper began to smolder deep within. Damn Guy.

"Ah," Erik smirked. "I think I see what's going on here. Paige, tell me if I'm close. Hailey brought you to this dive tonight and promptly left you on your own so that she could latch onto the hairiest man in the joint. And this must be none other than Guy's latest bimbo."

"Hey-"

"Why you-"

"God," Erik steamrolled over Hailey and Guys collective outrage, "No wonder you're upset. Let's go. I'm taking you home." One hand cut the air in a slashing motion when Hailey opened her mouth to argue the decision. "Save it. Come on Paige, let's get the hell out of here." And without another word to the stunned trio behind them, he ushered her into the truck, climbed in beside her and hit the gas. Gravity propelled Paige to the back of the seat and one hand shot forward to clutch at the tan leather armrest.

"Erik, don't think I'm not grateful here, but... are we going to go ninety all the way back to town?"

"No," His foot eased on the accelerator. "That was for their benefit. In case they didn't get that I'm pissed."

"I think you made your point."

"Hey it's a guy thing." He shrugged, maneuvering the slick streets with ease.

"Thanks for that, by the way." She sighed, resting her head against the back of the seat.

"So how was my theory?"

"The one where Guy rips out my heart and stomps on it and Hailey hops onto a trucker?" Paige quipped humorlessly, not bothering to mask the bitterness in her tone.

"Yeah, that one." His lips twitched.

"Pretty much spot on." She admitted, loosening her hold on the armrest and lightly fingering the miniscule sun creases in the thick leather.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm glad you came to get me."

"I'll always come after you sweetheart, you know that. Are you really okay?"

"I think so," She attempted a smile.

"I wanted to talk to you anyway."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Erik's hands tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes remaining straight ahead. "But that can wait. So what did that jerk say to you?"

"I was sitting there watching him with...her." She swallowed refusing to call his latest conquest by name, though certainly the girl, Tanya, couldn't be faulted for dating Guy. "I ran out and he followed, helpfully pointing out that I broke up with him."

"That was nice of him." Erik shook his head.

"And then he threw it in my face that I had someone else." She took a deep breath.

"Where would he get an idea like that? Everyone knows you've been holed up in your room for weeks."

"Everyone knows?" She groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Well..."

"Never mind, I don't want to know."

"Why does he think you've got someone new?" Erik neatly redirected her thoughts.

"I may have led him to believe that." She hedged.

"And how did you 'maybe' do that?"

"I told him I was in love with someone else-that I've been seeing someone else." She elaborated, her eyes swinging to the side when his brow furrowed.

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then why..." He slowed the truck.

"It's such a long story Erik." She sighed and turned to gaze out at the black night beyond the window. "Actually no, it's a short but complicated story. I..." She faltered, needing to tell someone, desperate to finally dislodge the truth and bring it to light. Yet scared to voice what had become her terrifying reality. Erik seemed to sense her reluctance.

"What is it Paige? You can tell me anything."

"I think I would rather talk about what you were about to say earlier."

"Forget it. You first." He steered the truck to the shoulder of the road, shifted into 'park' and unclipped his seat belt before turning to face her.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving us more time to talk. Now out with it Princess. Tell me your short but complicated story." He smiled.

"I can't see you."

"Yes you can."

"Hardly." She retorted nervously. "I can't talk to you if I can't see you."

"You're talking to me right now."

"Oh, fine, well...I lied to Guy because..." She paused, took a deep breath and darted a glance behind her shoulder, half expecting Denmari to pop out from the brush that grew wild on the side of the road and surrounded most of the vehicle. When nothing happened and silence reigned inside the warm interior of the truck, she found her nerve and her voice once again. "I lied to Guy to protect him."

"I don't follow-protect him from what?" Erik leaned in close.

"From Denmari." Her tone was pleading, "He caught me sneaking out with Guy in the middle of the night. Well, no, that's not exactly how it happened. He came home early and I came home late, with Guy."

"I bet that went well."

"Yeah, well. Denmari told me I had to break it off with Guy." She coughed, embarrassed to tell Erik about what she and Guy had done, and about being slapped later in the evening.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me any of this before. I bet that skag Hailey knew all of this weeks ago." He shook his head.

"Very funny. Erik please this is serious. Denmari didn't just tell me to stop seeing Guy. There's more." She whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm listening." He straightened, one arm draped over the wheel.

"He hold me if I didn't end it with Guy, then he would end Guy." She finished.

"Well lots of fathers-stepfathers-say stuff like that." He reasoned.

"No you don't understand." Frustrated, Paige thrust a lock of brown hair behind one ear. "The next morning he said he would make him disappear. That he had done it before and that people have 'accidents' all of the time." She blurted, curling her fingers into invisible quotation marks around the chilling word.

"Oh..."

"And that's not all." She hurriedly continued. "I had one of his business partners investigated. Quietly of course."

"You did what? Where does a seventeen year old girl go to have someone investigated? Is that even legal?"

"You don't want to know and probably not. But you'll never guess what I found out. There's talk of him being in the mob."

"The mob." Erik stated in disbelief.

"Erik I'm serious."

"My God you are, aren't you." He muttered, raking a hand through his short dark hair. "So Denmari..."

"Is probably affiliated too."

"Shit. That puts a new spin on his threat, doesn't it? I see what you mean now."

"I know."

"Have you told anyone else?"

"No. Just you."

"Good. Don't say anything to anyone else."

"You don't think they would do anything to me for talking, do you?" She breathed, unsure of whom 'they' were, beyond Denmari and his business associate but paranoid nonetheless.

"Who knows?" Erik muttered. "But either way I don't like the idea of you in the middle of this."

"Well it would stand to reason that since I've broken it off with Guy, Denmari will go back to mostly ignoring me, with the occasional stern look thrown in, although lately he's been hinting that he doesn't like you and I spending so much time together. I really screwed up when I got caught with Guy." She sighed dismally.

"So that's why you told him you were seeing someone else?"

"Yes, I tried ending it a few nights after my little chat with Denmari but Guy wasn't backing off and kept demanding to know why. He was insisting that whatever was wrong could be worked out." Her eyes squeezed shut at the memory. "It was the best I could do, and now everything's such a mess."

"Ah, Paige, come here." He soothed, reaching across the bench seat to meet her in the middle and keep the shadows at bay. "Everything will be okay, you'll see."

His hand felt so nice in her hair, smoothing and stroking the long tresses until she relaxed enough, let her guard down just enough to believe for a moment that he spoke the truth. She desperately wanted to believe that her life would cease its out of control spin, and sooner rather than later. She closed her eyes and exhaled, letting go for a few seconds.

"What time do you have to be back?" He murmured without moving away from her.

"Probably soon." She finally sighed, forcing herself to ease out of his hold and peer at the faint green glow of the dash clock, squinting at the numbers displayed there.

"It's ten-thirty." He helpfully supplied.

"I've got half an hour." She pouted, the heavy weight of reality settling back into place.

"We had better be on our way then." He sounded as regretful as she felt.

"Hey wait." Paige stilled his hand when he would have fired up the truck. "What were you going to tell me earlier?"

"Oh that." He looked away. "It's not important." Erik told her after a long pause.

"Yes it is and I want to know." She insisted, and when five minutes had passed and she thought he wasn't going to tell her, felt certain she'd go crazy if he didn't say something soon, he looked her straight in the eye and said "I'm gay, Paige."

"You're what?!" Her voice was shrill with shock and disbelief.

"I said I'm gay."

"I heard you." She rolled the window down, gulped at the semi-cool air.

"Okay."

"Okay?" She rounded on him. "You're telling me you're gay-you're just now telling me that you are gay and all you have to say is 'okay'?"

"Paige..."

"No. No. I'm sorry." She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "That's not fair."

"If you can't understand or..." He stammered, clearly at a loss.

"I don't know about understanding," She exhaled through her teeth. "But you are my best friend, Erik. If you're happy, well then, so am I."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So when did you, ah, find out?"

"I wasn't sure until recently." He admitted.

"How?"

"How did I know or how did this happen?" He smirked.

"Both I guess."

"I just knew it, ah, realized it. It's hard to explain."

"Have you had a boyfriend?"

"Paige."

"Well have you?"

"Not yet."

"But you will." It was a statement and she fought to quell the rising disappointment that she couldn't begin to understand.

"Yes I will."

"Does your family know? Or are we keeping it a secret for now?" She bit her lip.

"I'm going to tell them tonight."

"You want me to come with you?"

"No, but thanks doll. It's something I've got to do on my own. Besides, I have fifteen minutes to get you home or I'll be swimming with the fishes."

"That's not funny."

"No, it probably isn't. I want you to be careful okay? I mean it Paige. Don't make waves- and stay away from Denmari as much as you can."

"I'll try." She nodded. "Will you come pick me up tomorrow?"

"I'll be there."

# Chapter Four

Erik returned the next afternoon, as promised. She heard the ring of the doorbell first, followed by her step-fathers deep timbre, which managed to sound cantankerous and rude from an entire floor away, she marveled with a sad shake of her head. She tossed her book onto the floor, bounded from her bed, and rushed across the hallway to take the stairs two at a time in her hurry to get to Erik before Denmari did or said Heaven only knew what. She knew Erik was smart and tough and more than capable of holding his own, but the thought of him having to endure any discomfort for being her friend was more than she could bear; besides, she didn't have all that many friends...

"I thought we talked about this, Paige." Her step-father was saying as she skidded to a stop in the entryway, a disapproving frown gracing his classic features.

"I know, but-"

"I'm gay, Mr. Denmari." Erik kept his shoulders straight back. His voice was firm and he made his declaration without ever breaking eye contact with Giovanni.

Long, tense moments passed and Paige waited for his decree with her heart in her throat. She didn't think she could stand to give up Erik too.

"A fag."

Paige's face heated at her step-fathers crude language. Erik flinched but remained silent. The quick glance he gave Paige silently advised her to do the same.

"Hell, Paige, why didn't you tell me he was a fag?" Denmari shook his head and grabbed his hat and sport coat before telling them to have fun.

Paige and Erik let out their collectively held breath once the door had slammed shut behind Denmari.

"That went better than I expected."

"Erik I'm so sorry he said...that word."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'd better get used to it, right?" He sighed, looking her over with a speculative eye. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. But what about you? How did it go last night?"

"With my parents, you mean?"

Paige nodded.

"Not so great." He plowed a hand through his dark hair and exhaled. "Let's get out of here." He said suddenly.

"Okay. Where to?"

"Alaska?"

"What?" Paige froze, sure she must not have heard him correctly.

"Let's get out of Montana, away from this whole damn place." He marched over to stand in front of her, taking both of her hands in his own and staring down into her stunned face.

"Alaska?" She repeatedly numbly.

"Just for this year. We can get G.E.D's and find jobs or live off the land, whatever. Just until we're both eighteen. How about it?"

"But that's crazy!"

"Please, I need you with me."

"Our lives aren't that bad." The protest sounded weak, even to her own ears; weaker still when Erik raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going either way." He said softly. "But I don't want to do this alone."

"But...we'll have the police called on us."

"So? Who's going to find us in Alaska? Come on, it'll be fun. Please Paige."

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said okay." She squeezed his hands.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd give in this fast."

"When do we leave?" She wanted to know.

"Right now. I'll help you pack."

"I was afraid you'd say that. But, okay, let's do it." She nodded reluctantly, leading the way up to her bedroom and trying desperately to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. One hour and two plane tickets later, they were bound for Alaska.

***

Three weeks later...

He would come back, he'd said he would and so it would be, at least, she hoped so. Icy puffs of breath misted in front of her face, a visible testament to the cold-and her less than ideal predicament. Twilight shadows gathered around her, marking the passing of another day, the start of another blustery night.

Whatever had she been thinking, to follow him out here to this God forsaken no man's land? The answer came to her lightning quick, she hadn't been thinking, plain and simple. There was no other plausible explanation, she admitted, bare hands fumbling with the frozen lock on the cabins' ancient front door.

If she'd had any sense at all she would have stayed at home, problems and all-at least it was warm there, well, warm compared to this place, she amended.

She loved Erik in her own way, she reflected, putting her full weight against the door and tripping into the cabins' dim interior when it gave way under her onslaught, but this was just too much.

Put some shoulder into it, her step-father had constantly chastised her. Put some muscle into it; give it your all, why are you so weak. The long ago words whispered through her mind, remnants of another time, another place...another life. This is what happens when you give something your all,she thought, surveying her dismal surroundings. You fall flat on your face.Then again, she was reasonably sure Denmari hadn't intended for her to put her 'all' into running away from home at the age of seventeen to traipse after a homosexual.

No, he'd probably been referring to applying herself at school, at work, maybe even her design sketches she was forever tooling around with.

The sketches, she groaned, sinking onto the cool flagstone ledge of the silent fireplace. She hadn't worked on her sketches in weeks. First the whole mess with Guy, now running off with Erik...it would seem her well of inspiration had run dry. She choked back a sob, heavy tears swelling in her wide dark eyes, telling herself it was of no use to cry.

A break down wouldn't solve anything. So she would weep and then what? All the bawling in the world wouldn't change the nightmare in which she had become entangled. She told herself all this and more, to no avail. Her lip quivered, her chin wobbled, huge fat tears spilled over to run down her frozen cheeks. Wracking sobs tore from her throat, guttural animal noises she didn't recognize as her own.

She had no clue how long her outpouring of grief lasted, only that when her last tear fell, it was still dark out, the moon high and round and brilliant in the onyx sky. The twill sofa felt rough against her thighs and springs dug into her knees when she leaned forward to rest her chest against the back of the ugly plaid couch, arms crossed over the top as she stared out the wide front room window. The emotional storm that had raged through her only moments ago was gone, leaving her weak and spent and thoroughly exhausted.

***

Paige awoke some time later to find that the front door was open, projecting a silvery, blue-white wedge of light into the dark cabin.

"You're back." She rubbed her eyes and tried to smile.

"Yeah, it's a total white out, out there." He shook himself like a dog before unsnapping his parka and stomping snow off his boots.

"I think we need to talk." She forced herself to remain still, demanded of herself that she look him in the eye.

"So talk." He called out a nanosecond before turning away and heading to the bathroom, the rest of his words lost in the running water that splashed into the sink.

"It would help if you sat down." She raised her voice to be heard over the sloshing of the bathroom faucet.

"Sorry doll, it's freezing out there. Is there any coffee?"

"Yes, but it's not made-" She broke off; he was already moving toward the kitchen, making a bee line for the coffee pot that graced the chipped and faded Formica countertop.

"That's okay, I'll make it." He fixed the coffee, then took a mug down from the shelf and filled it full with the steaming dark brew before turning to face her, one hip leaning casually against the sink. "What's up?"

"Well, I've been thinking." She stammered, unsure of how to proceed now that she finally had his full attention.

"This doesn't sound good." He remarked, his expression neutral. She wasn't fooled by his practiced nonchalance. The almost imperceptible tightening of his fingers around the mug didn't escape her notice, but then, not much about him did.

She wished she could say the same about him but the sad truth was she'd felt all but invisible to him since they'd arrived in Alaska. Her head dropped forward and she drew a deep breath as though preparing herself to face a firing squad.

"I'm leaving." She exhaled, her gaze falling away from his stunned expression. She felt like the worst kind of coward for deserting him. It seemed like that was all she was good for, running out on those closest to her and the knowledge weighed heavy on her heart. She suddenly lost any and all desire for coffee, despite the fact that this was Alaska and a hot drink was always a welcome respite from the bitter cold that seemed to seep into everything. She wished there was a cure for the chill that, as of late, permeated the deepest corners of her heart.

"You're....leaving." He repeated slowly, his own drink forgotten on the aging countertop. "To the store?"

"No." She steeled herself against the horrible feelings that welled up inside her aching chest.

"For a walk then?"

"For good. I'm leaving Alaska."

"The hell with Alaska." He blustered, "You're leaving me, is that it?"

"Yes." She nodded, the acrid taste of fear filling her mouth. It wasn't that she was physically afraid of Erik. She just hated confrontation. Her gaze darted away from him and her pulse quickened in anticipation of the argument she felt was sure to come.

"Why?" He seemed to make an effort to curb his temper.

"I'm not happy here." She pressed her lips together, unwilling to say anything more, hoping against all odds that she wouldn't have to and for long moments, she didn't. He continued to stare at her as if she were a total stranger, someone he no longer knew. She supposed that might be very close to the truth-and mutual. She was beginning to feel like she didn't know who he was anymore either.

"You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," His lips curled, "You look real sorry, standing there like a damn statue." He bristled. "What the hell happened to you? Where is this coming from?"

"You don't understand." She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I'm not...cut out for this."

"You're not cut out for what?" He frowned.

"This!" Paige exploded, coyness momentarily ditched faster than yesterday's news. "The cold, the isolation, the loneliness-all of this. I can't do this anymore."

"It's been three weeks." He argued.

"Three weeks of loneliness and doubt and fear." She retorted, lashes sweeping down to cover brown eyes where the uncertainty warred once again.

"You've been lonely most of your life, and you'd be even more scared back home with Denmari than you can possibly be here in the wilderness with me." His hands clenched at his sides.

Paige said nothing, simply gasped at his uncharacteristically callous statement.

"Hell. Honey, I'm sorry. That was insensitive wasn't it?" Erik raked a hand through his hair and smiled ruefully at his companion. "I didn't mean that."

"It's okay." Her response was automatic, borne from years of acquiescence.

"No, Paige, it most certainly is not okay. God, you're such a doormat." He shook his head, stomping over to where she stood, boots thumping heavily on hard wood. "Come here, sweetie, I'm sorry."

"We need to go back." She insisted through the layers of cotton t-shirt that were pressed against her nose and mouth.

"I don't know, maybe you're right. I hate to admit defeat, but..." He pushed her back to look down into her face. "I can't stand to see you unhappy."

"It's not defeat, not necessarily. We'll both be eighteen in less than a year. Surely we can make it till then, right?"

"If you'd asked me a month ago I probably would have said no, but now..." He shook his head and tightened his arms around her.

"It's harder than we thought." Paige was realistically glum.

"You might say that." Erik sighed. "I wasn't late last night because I was working. The truth is I got lost and nearly got mauled by a giant bear. It was a narrow escape, Paige, let me tell you. Do you know how hard it is to run through snow drifts in below zero temperatures? It's not as easy as it looks."

"Then it must be next to impossible because it doesn't look all that easy to me. And it is cold here." She agreed. "But, if it helps, you don't look any the worse for wear."

"Damn right it is-and thanks, even though I know you're lying."

"You know, there's not much to do here. That's another thing to consider."

"There is that. Of course if I were a straight man, I'm sure we could find plenty to do during the long, cold nights."

"But you're not." She sighed, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Sorry about that, cookie." He grinned with real affection.

"Don't worry, you know I love you for who you are. Always have, always will."

"Yeah you have." He said softly. "Too bad my own family can't do the same.""I understand."

"They don't."

"Maybe they do, they're just having a hard time coming to terms with the idea. Maybe they just need more time."

"And maybe they've paid so little attention to their only son that they don't know who I am. Like Denmari."

"Yeah," She nodded, her lip curling at the mention of her step-father. "But Giovanni Denmari isn't my real father. I guess it's just different."

"He treats you like crap."

"Yeah." Another sigh.

"You don't deserve it."

"Neither do you."

"So what happens now?"

"We go back home and finish school and we walk away. Walk, not run." She emphasized. "We follow our dreams and we never look back."

"You make it sound easy."

"True. It probably won't be, but it's got to be better than freezing to death out here and getting attacked by wild animals every time we leave the cabin. And eventually we're going to run out of money, Erik. I just don't see how..."

"This can work." He finished, ruffling her dark hair. "You're making sense. Out of the two of us, you're the only who has been over the last month. I can't believe I dragged you out here."

"You didn't hold a gun to my head." She reminded him. "I wanted to leave too, but I'm starting to think that this isn't the way. And freedom is so close at hand, really. It doesn't always feel like it, but it is." Paige said, mildly surprised to find that she honestly felt like she spoke the truth. Only a few weeks ago, independence had been a million light years away... She sent up a quick prayer asking God to forgive her for her momentary lack of faith, before returning her attention to the man before her.

"That's easy for you to say." Erik was saying. "You're supposed to leave in two weeks for school. I, on the other hand, will be stuck in Helena."

"Maybe you could come with me?"

"And do what? Dress in drag?" He cracked, gesturing to his tall broad form and masculine features.

"I meant, smartass, that you could go to the boys' school across town. It's Catholic, but..."

"I'll think about it."

"That's a no, right?"

"More or less. Sorry."

"Well I'm not planning on going to a Catholic college..." She smiled, reaching around him to pour herself a fresh mug of coffee.

"Then count me in, babe. So-we go back and tough it out for the rest of the year?"

"That's the plan." She winced when the burning hot liquid scorched her tongue and blazed a trail down her throat.

"Then it's settled. We leave tomorrow. But tonight, tonight is ours. What's something you've always wanted to do?" His blue eyes sparkled as he held her gaze.

"You mean in the middle of the night, in the freezing cold, in the middle of Alaska?"

"Yeah." He grinned, his reckless by nature charm infectious.

"Gee, that's a hard one. We played in the snow the first night we came here. We even made snow angels. I just don't know what could possibly be left to do."

"We could moon bathe."

"We'll get pneumonia."

"Then what about skinny-sledding?"

"Eeew." She grimaced. "And ouch. Bad idea Erik."

"Midnight laser tag in the snow?"

"Hmmm. Well it sounds better than skinny sledding." Paige grinned, running for the bedroom they shared and the small pen light tipped laser pointers Erik had kept in his knapsack since the seventh grade. She unzipped the bag, reached into the inside pocket and pulled out the pens, tossing one to him on her way out the door.

"Race you!"

# Chapter Five

Four years later...

Autumn in Montana is a sight to behold. Rich foliage weaves a magical spell of green, gold, orange, and red so deep it looks like rubies have been sprinkled along the lush tree line. This show of color and beauty was probably the singular most thing that Paige had missed about her home state.

Sometimes the longing had become an unbelievably acute ache deep in her chest, during the years she'd spent at the university. She could still vividly recall the hours she'd spent listening to the discordant sounds of traffic and people and life that seemed to go on in a continuous loop far below her fourth floor window; the culture shock had made her wistful at times for the solitude of the wild country home she'd left behind.

But the one thing she had never been was lonely. Erik had seen to that. When she had transferred to Chicago for her last year of school, Erik had followed, and later, when he had decided New York was the perfect place for his advertising agency, she had conveniently snagged a job in the Big Apple, this time following him half way across the country.

By the time Paige received the call about her stepfather's untimely, or slow in coming-depending how you looked at it-death, the pattern of lead and follow between the two had become so firmly ingrained that it seemed perfectly natural for her oldest and dearest friend to pack a bag and book the adjoining seat on the redeye flight she caught a mere sixteen hours later. She hadn't wanted to go, initially. Denmari had done little more than wreck her and her mother's lives and the money could go to the state of Montana for all she cared. It had been Erik, in a rare bout of sensibility, who had calmly reminded her that Denmari's estate was her family heritage, passed down from her grandmother to her mother and now, finally, to Paige herself.

"Think of your mother. Do this for her. Do it for yourself."

And loathe as she was to return to the city of Helena and that turbulent chapter of her life, no matter her love of the land and the quiet, there was no denying that what Erik said made good sense. And after a much needed reflection, Paige realized that had her inheritance been only money, she would have gladly let it go unclaimed, given it away, stuffed it in a piñata-anything to avoid going back home. But as it was, much more than dollars and cents were at stake. Her family-her true family, not the mockery it had become since Denmari had entered their lives-was on the line. She imagined her gentle, sweet mother doing pirouettes in her grave at the thought of her only daughter leaving her family estate to neglect and eventual ruin.

Once the decision was made, there was no going back, and besides, Paige reasoned, Erik probably wouldn't let her back out even if she'd been inclined to do so. Which she wasn't. No, she made up her mind in a relatively short amount of time to return to Helena, settle the accounts tied to the estate, and methodically wipe every trace of Denmari from the house. His scent, his belongings, all of it would be gone before she returned to New York or her name wasn't Paige Frey.

***

A few days later, she found herself alone in the living room of her childhood home, silence echoing around her. She was back. In Montana. Her mind whirled at the implication of being back in her hometown before reality kicked in and she reminded herself that her step-father was never going to cause her distress again. 'Denmari' as he used to insist on being called, was gone; dead and buried- his legacy of terror officially at an end. She had watched him being lowered into the ground only hours ago. So why didn't she feel like it was over?Maybe it's this house; she considered the unsettling possibility for the first time in weeks.

Cool air filtered in through the window, the breeze crisp and cleansing. If only that was all it would take to cleanse the black marks that seemed to mar her soul down deep. In the quiet stillness of the night, every creak and groan the old house emitted sounded like a shot in the dark.

Paige steeled herself against the paranoia that seeped around the edges of her consciousness and made some semblance of an effort not to jump at every little noise. That was the old Paige. The one who jumped at the slightest hint of danger, the one who kept her head down and tried her damn level best not to make waves. That spineless woman had died along with the man who had haunted her nightmares and crushed her dreams for most of her life.

"Father." The word felt cold and alien on her lips. Uncomfortable. Giovanni Denmari had been a lot of things to a lot of people, but he hadn't ever been a father to Paige. Tormenter was closer to the truth. And she felt him still, here in this house that hadn't been her haven since she was six years old. He was firmly embedded in every nook and cranny of the three thousand square foot monster.

Everywhere she looked a piece of him remained. Those were his books gracing the mahogany shelves in the library, his heavy crockery dishes that had long since replaced her mother's fine china and silver cutlery. The masculine paneling in the study was his, as was the stale odor of cigar smoke that clung to the room with such tenacity that she was certain it would never be removed from the carpet and draperies and walls. His clothing still hung in the closet, for Christ's sake. She threw back the shot of potent amber liquid in one smoothly practiced movement.

Another trademark of the 'new' Paige, for the old one had shied away from liquor and pretty much anything else deemed unbecoming for a lady. Don't smoke don't drink don't swear, don't talk back, don't think, don't feel, don't decide because such thoughts were wasted on a female, don't...try.

"Fuck you." She toasted the ghost of terrors past with a cynical twist of her lips. The old Paige felt the slightest twinge of guilt at such a hostile statement, heartfelt as it was. The nuns at school would have been horrified to see the girl they had all regarded as their most promising student blossom into a young woman who drank hard liquor, smoked cigarettes, and spewed hateful sentiments about a dead man. Her own father, no less.

No, she reminded herself. Step-father. Her father had been dead for years. Giovanni Denmari was a cruel bastard who had used and abused her mother for eleven years and raised her orphaned daughter out of charity-if you could call shipping a young girl off to a Catholic boarding school 'raising', though she knew she shouldn't complain about that particular parenting slight.

Catholic school had at least provided her with a safe and semi stable, if rigid, environment. The nuns had been the ones to encourage her to apply to the state University. They had even written letters of recommendation and thanks to advanced placement testing Paige had graduated with a BA in Technology in fewer than three of the four years that was the average allotted time length for the program. So, nun bashing was definitely out, she reasoned with a ghost of a smile.

The moon was high in the sky, the air cool and crisp and clean, the kind of night that held magic in the air. October had always been her favorite time of year; she loved everything about the season, the temperature that was cold without being all out frigid, the festivities, and the fresh breezes that breathed life into everything it touched.

She loved shoving the windows wide open and feeling that first gust of wind in her hair, airing out the large rooms in the house, spaces on the verge of being stagnant from all of the summers where air conditioning was a necessity. The wind in her face never failed to clear her head and so she frequently took long walks in the afternoon and evening hours; the later the better, as far as Paige was concerned.

But a walk wasn't on her agenda at that particular moment, she thought, turning a slow circle in the den, stopping when her wild gaze came to rest on the ugliest carved wooden bird she had ever seen; Denmari's doing, no doubt. It matched perfectly with the other dead-animal depictions that lined the walls like taxidermy shelving. No more, she vowed, marching over to the ugly bird. It came off the wall easily enough and Paige grunted in satisfaction as she held its' heavy weight in her hands. It was exceptionally ugly. And tacky. And it had been his. Paige knew at once that it had to go and she took immense pleasure in striding through the house to wrench open the back door. The bird made a satisfying crash after she sent it hurtling through the air. It didn't escape her notice that the thing landed in the old red brick lined burn pit.

"Good idea."

Lips curving into a smile, she went back into the house, tromped into the hallway and took the stairs two at a time until she was standing, breath coming in short erratic bursts of adrenaline, in front of the closed door that had been Giovanni Denmari's bedroom suite.

Paige shrugged off the eerie sensation of being watched by a thousand unseen eyes and resolutely threw open the door to the musty room, flipped the light switch and crossed the plush white carpet to the closet, refusing to veer from her course.

The closet door was flung open with the same lack of ceremony the bedroom door had received; shirts and pants and sport jackets were ripped from their padded hangers and tossed in an uncaring heap in the middle of the double bed that still sported his sheets and matching quilt.

Paige wrapped the pile of clothing in the bed linens that still bore his scent and wrestled the whole bundle down the wide staircase, dragged it behind her through the house, out the back door and into the burn pit it went.

An hour later, a tangle of broken dishes, linens, drapes, deer head, and a wide assortment of odds and ends filled the pit. Paige gave the top layer a good healthy dose of gasoline, lit a match, and jumped back as flames sprang to life in the still night air. She would have liked to have lit a cigarette off of it, like actors did in the movies, but she didn't dare get much closer to the inferno she had created. The burn pit was large and deep, but she wasn't entirely sure that it had been safe to pile it so high, she thought, eyeing the crackling mess with caution and taking yet another step back. Oh well, she finally shrugged, there weren't any neighbors close enough to be affected if things got out of control, and the house was insured, though the thought of losing all of her mama's things made her stomach clench. So she waited on the outskirts of the yard, watching shadows and branches twist and weave in the orange glow cast by the fire that was still going strong. When the pile had burned down far enough to be level with the brick wall of the pit, Paige took the garden hose off the circular rack that was mounted to the side of the house, turned on the spigot and sprayed the fire until even the enormous cloud of white smoke had dissipated into the black night.

She didn't bother to wind the hose up and properly put it away, like Denmari had always insisted on; instead she simply turned off the water, tossed it into the grass and took off across the yard for a walk through the garden, uncaring of the late hour and the dark.

She was always mindful of her surroundings, no matter what the hour. After all, she was a modern woman; she read the newspapers and was well aware of the kind of violence that could befall a woman, especially a woman alone on the street.

Usually she kept to the grounds that surrounded the estate if the moon was up by the time she made her way out the wide front door of the house. And why not? The property was undeniably beautiful. It would never be a lush paradise, being as mostly pine and sturdy flowers and vegetation graced the stone walkways that meandered through more than fifteen acres of land. She used to think of the space as her own mountain getaway, even though they weren't technically 'next to' any mountains.

Her fingers trailed along the maze-like hedges that made up the garden and every so often she stopped to sniff at the white bell shaped blooms that popped out here and there. When her mother had been alive, she had tended the garden by herself, devoting long hard hours to the design and care and upkeep of the vast space. The place had been a collaboration between Layna Frey and her first husband Christopher, Paige's real father. It still amazed her, even after all these years, that such a huge, gorgeous place was not only the dream but the product of two people and two people alone.

In recent years, she reflected with only a trace of regret, professional gardeners tended to the trees and bushes and shrubs and flowers. As much as Paige would have loved to carry on her mother's fine tradition, she had the polar opposite of a 'green thumb'.

No, her thumb was black as coal and she was sure that any plants left in her care wouldn't have ever lived to tell the tale. There was no denying it-things tended to shrivel and wilt and die around her. Had she been left to tend her mother's beautiful garden, the entire mass of green life that surrounded her would have probably committed plant suicide within a month.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

"God!" Paige whirled to face Erik, one hand still clutching her galloping heart. "You scared me; did you have to sneak up on me like that?"

"Who's sneaking?" He asked with an amused tilt to his head.

"I guess maybe I wasn't paying attention." She shrugged, not really all that concerned with her momentary lapse in vigilance.

"I'd say that's understandable," He replied, falling into step beside her. "Are you headed back to the house?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I have to be up and moving pretty early tomorrow. A little extra sleep wouldn't hurt."

"A shower wouldn't hurt either." Erik wrinkled his nose. "I can smell you from here."

"I stink?"

"I'm trying to decide what smells worse, you or the burn pit."

"Oh, you saw that, huh?"

"It was hard to miss, even without the lingering aroma of charcoal and cheap cologne."

"I cleaned out the house." She told him in belated explanation.

"I gathered as much." Erik nodded sagely. "So. Remind me again, what time do you we leave in the morning?"

"We're due at the lawyers' office at seven-thirty." She sighed.

"I'm surprised he's open so early; he must keep your kind of hours." Erik teased.

"Laugh away, but I just want to get this over and done with so we can go back home."

"Don't worry; we'll be back in New York before you know it."

Erik's reassurance, heart-felt though she knew it was, did little to ease her anxiety over the impending day. She was grateful that Erik had volunteered to accompany to her the will reading, though. It wasn't that she couldn't have done it by herself, just that she didn't prefer to go this one alone.

Paige said goodnight to Erik before ducking into the small bathroom that was tucked away beneath the stairs on the first floor. She would have used the considerably larger bathroom that connected to her upstairs bedroom, but a quick perusal earlier in the day had revealed a clean but unused space without towels, soap, or wash rags. The three-quarter bath below the stairs, on the other hand, was well stocked with all the necessities and so she showered there before going up to bed.

It took only thirty minutes of tossing and turning to convince Paige that she was in need of a little help and she trudged irritably down the stairs in search of something hot to drink. Once she'd downed a mug of the chamomile tea her mother had often made to help her bring about sleep, her eyelids felt pleasantly heavy. Her sleep still proved restless, though, and more than once she woke with the sheets twisted into ropes around her legs, her head filled with images that had become her all too familiar fantasy over the years. She came awake suddenly from a dream in which strong hands had been probing gently between her thighs as she had writhed and begged for more. In this dream, Erik's blue eyes had been locked on hers with an intensity that robbed her of breath and speech.

Paige heaved a frustrated sigh and rolled over, taking the covers with her and shoving a pillow between her knees to ease the ache that had settled between her legs. It was true what they said-all of the good ones were either married or gay.

# Chapter Six

The morning after her rampage against all things Denmari, Paige woke to a cool clear mountain air type of morning, the sort that never failed to get her blood pumping in anticipation for the day ahead. It was barely nine o'clock and, having met with the lawyers in what had to be the fastest will reading in the history of wills and testaments-she got everything-Paige was faced with an entire day with nothing to do.

She could clean the house, as the place was beyond large and there always seemed to be more scrubbing and polishing just waiting to be tackled. Or maybe a quiet walk along the lake was in order-always a favorite way to pass a brisk morning, or a sleepy afternoon.

Then again, she considered, propping one modestly heeled foot on the deck railing and cradling a hot cup of hazelnut flavored coffee, maybe it was time to pay a visit to some old friends. Not that she had many old friends to drop in on, she conceded. Between her step father, going away to school, and her own once-nervous tendencies, the only friends from her old life that she really had were Guy-out of the question-and Hailey. Yes, Paige decided on a spurt of impulse, she would pay a visit to her old friend Hailey. Today. Now.

***

"You broke his heart, you know."

"I-" Paige sputtered, seriously wishing she hadn't been so bold as to get into the car a half hour ago and vehemently cursing the fact that Hailey still lived in the house in which she'd grown up in, a little blue and white cape cod on the Southern tip of Helena. Why hadn't she had the good sense to stay home that morning? Better yet, opt for a walk around the lake, clean something, hell, sit and stare at the four walls of her own living room-anything but drop in unannounced on a woman who, if her flashing eyes and stiff posture were any indication, would just as soon see her in a ditch as on her front porch.

That she was still, for some reason, majorly offended on Guys behalf, years later, was both obvious and puzzling to Paige as she faced down her very angry best friend who added insult to verbal injury by looking even better than Paige remembered. Life just wasn't fair.

"What? Was he not good enough for you? You should have seen how he cried." Hailey bit out, snapping a shell shocked Paige straight out of her silent rumination.

"He cried?" She gasped, stricken despite her best effort to remain aloof. What it must have taken to make someone like him cry, the depth of emotion...she was stunned. The thought of him shedding tears over her tore at her in ways she couldn't begin to explain. I never meant to hurt him, she cried to herself. Although in truth, yes she had meant to hurt him, in a way.

Her mind flashed back to that night in the dark, under the Oak tree, almost six years ago. She had been compelled to protect him at all costs and in order to do that, she had broken his heart. At the time, and in the years that had since passed, Paige had rationalized it and worked it around in her mind to the point where he hadn't cared enough about her to be devastated.

In her mind, she had hurt his pride, wounded his ego, and maybe caused a fleeting hint of sadness. He had moved on a long time ago. She knew it to be true.

Before she had fled to Alaska with Erik, it seemed that he was everywhere she went-with a girl hanging on his arm each time. Usually several girls. Her heart had cracked and splintered and bled each time she'd had to watch him smile down at something his date said, or lean in close to whisper in her ear.She had longed to say something, anything, to make the hurt stop, her own more than his.

And after her last confrontation with him...well, it had been plainly obvious that it was too late. Their time had passed. Still, she'd never known, never considered that he had wept over the loss of her. Even now, it hard to image that anyone had ever cared that much.

"He cried, he drank, and he picked fights with anyone who so much as dared to look at him for months. Then again, if you had bothered to stick around, you wouldn't need me to tell you this." Disdain was clear in her former friend's stance and narrowed violet eyes.

"I didn't stick around." Paige replied coolly. "And it wasn't a matter of want or choice. If you were any kind of friend, that thought would have occurred to you long before now."

"Oh please, you dropped me in a flash, just like him. And now you have the nerve to come back here, like nothing has changed. Well, it has. We're not kids anymore, Paige. You can't just pick up where you left off."

"Hailey," Paige rubbed her temple with a sigh. "Come on, let's not do this. I'm back in town for a while; I came here today to see how you've been. Can't we be civil to each other for five damn minutes? Is that too much to ask?"

"I'm sorry Paige but I have nothing to say to you. You hurt a lot of people around here you know."

"I guess I did." She murmured, silently wondering at the 'lot of people' comment, shifted her chocolate leather purse with the square silver buckles and turned to make her exit. "It was good seeing you Hailey. I won't bother you again." Her soft spoken statement was met with stony silence from the girl turned woman who had shared her childhood years.

Paige walked away with her head held high and her dignity, for the most part, intact. She faltered only once on her walk down the pebbled sidewalk to her midnight blue z28. Pushing all thoughts of friendships lost and love left crying in the dark, firmly from her mind, she turned the key in the ignition and drove away without looking back. Screw strolling around the lake; what she really needed was a good solid hour of retail therapy.

***

Erik was casually turning burgers on the grill when she returned. Normally the sizzle and hiss of barbeque would be enough to catapult her from dark mood to ravenous light, but not today. She had spent the entire fifteen minute drive from Hailey's house to her own mulling over their less than pleasant encounter.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." Erik drawled, replacing the shiny black metal lid on the grill and turning to give Paige a cursory once over. "Is that for me?"

"I stopped for coffee. Heavy cream, heavy sugar, just the way you like it."

"Thanks. What's in yours?"

"Mocha something of other." She waved her hand in a vague gesture, although she thought there may have been Carmel as well.

"I like chocolate."

"Well then here, you take it." She shrugged, extending the thick cardboard cup.

"Really?" His eyes lit up.

"Yeah, switch me."

"You're a doll." He winked, handing over his own brightly colored cup. "How was it?"

"The coffee or seeing Hailey?" She sighed, though she already knew the answer.

"Hailey."

"Oh, that." Paige ran a magenta red fingernail along the edge of the brick that lined the side of the patio. "Let's just say some people around here have long memories." She raised her eyes to Erik's, seeking shelter from the storm that still raged inside.

"That good, huh?"

He cried, he drank, and he picked fights with anyone who so much as dared to look at him for months. Then again, if you had bothered to stick around, you wouldn't need me to tell you this.

"Better."

"Sorry Paige." He said, hunkering down beside her on the cool tile.

"She doesn't want anything to do with me. I understand, it's just...I don't know what I expected, really. Doesn't matter."

"I'm glad you understand because I sure as hell don't. What's wrong with that witch? She knew what your life was like back then, how you were forced to grow up."

"I can't change it, Erik. If she feels like I've wronged her, then so be it. And maybe I did, but you know what? I'm getting pretty damn sick and tired of forever defending myself for decisions I made while I was backed into a corner."

"That's the spirit." Erik nodded his approval. "So, did she get fat?" He asked idly.

"Erik!"

"Well did she?" He turned toward her, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"No." Paige sighed, deflated.

"Shoot."

"But her butt is still bigger than mine." She winked, the comment getting an uproarious laugh from her friend.

"Good for you sweetie."

"Yeah." She grinned before turning serious again. "She said something else, Erik. About Guy. Did he really fall apart after I left?"

"You mean after he tried to beat me up for stealing you away from him?" He snorted. "I never saw him again after that. Why?"

"Hailey said he was pretty torn up is all."

"If he was I never heard about it."

"Why don't you ask me yourself?"

Paige and Erik both jumped, startled at the sound of his voice.

"Guy?"

"Hello Paige."

"Is he wearing a police uniform? Why is he wearing a police uniform?" Erik murmured from the corner of his mouth, climbing to his feet and pulling a shocked Paige up with him.

"I don't know..."

"Are you surprised to see me?" Guy regarded her through hooded eyes, shifting his legs. Paige's attention immediately went to the gun belt slung low on his hips. When her eyes swung back up to his face, there was no mistaking the amusement she found glittering in those blue depths.

"That depends," Erik took the liberty of answering for her. "Are you the stripper gram?"

"Erik!"

"No, I'm not." Guy shook his head in disgust.

"That's too bad." Erik drawled, wincing when Paige brought the heel of her shoe down on the top of his foot.

"Ah..." Paige wet her lips. "It's nice to see you."

"This isn't a social call. If I could have a word with you in private?"

"Keep dreaming."

"Erik, please. I'm fine. Guy, let's go around front. We can talk there." She motioned over Erik's protest.

Her thoughts swirled round and round in a whirling blur as she led the way around the side of the massive house, to the wide redwood front porch. It was as though she had conjured him by simply picturing his face.

But what in God's name was he doing in a police uniform, unless....she shook her head. No way. Guy? A cop? The image didn't fit, and yet here he was, walking purposefully next to her, not behind her, in the cool afternoon sun. And although it was mid-October she noted it was still way too early for aHalloween costume.

So he was a cop; she accepted the only logical conclusion with mild shock. And he was here, on her front porch, gun and badge prominently displayed, sunlight reflecting off the shiny Silver Star pinned to his chest. Ten years hadn't faded his razor edge beauty, she reflected, drinking in the sight of him. If anything, he looked even better than he had as a youth. There was no question that Guy filled out his navy blue uniform nicely; his hair was also darker and his voice, lord, his voice.

"Paige." He brought her sharply back to the present.

"Yes?" She returned his measured stare with a well-practiced one of her own, one she had perfected over time spent in the faced paced heart of New York City. "Won't you sit down? Can I get you a drink?"

"I'll stand. As I said before, this isn't a social call, Ms.-" he raised one dark brow.

"It's still Frey." She ran her tongue along her bottom lip, the first seeds of apprehension taking root. If he wasn't here socially...she wracked her brain, trying without success to remember if she'd done anything illegal since her return to Montana.

She didn't think so, unless one of the neighbors had complained about the racket she had made a few nights ago, although she didn't think any of them were close enough to be bothered by any noise she and Erik made. Really, they were quiet for the most part anyhow. Had she been speeding this afternoon while she had run errands in town? Paige frowned, struggling to recall, giving up after a sliver of a moment.

"Okay," She huffed, shoving her hands into her pockets and rocking back and forth on her stacked heel sandals. "I give up," She admitted, daring to meet his eyes. "What'd I do?"

If he was shocked by her blunt approach he didn't show it, rather he met her level gaze head on and rested one hand high on the porch column. "We received a call from Hailey Robertson this afternoon and at her request, filed a police report."

"Police report?" Paige squeaked. "My God has something happened to Hailey?"

"The report was for harassment." His frown deepened.

"Har-harassment?" Her eyes went wide.

"Did you visit Ms. Robertson's residence at three o'clock this afternoon?"

"Her name is Hailey." Paige felt compelled to point out the obvious. "You went to school with her for twelve years. And my name is Paige." And you used to love me.

"Did you visit 415 Lancaster Street this afternoon Ms. Frey?" He doggedly rephrased his question, apparently choosing to ignore her last statement.

"Yes I did."

"Can you tell me the reason for the visit?" It wasn't a question.

"I was selling girl scout cookies." She needled him, watched his head cock to one side and wondered if he would take her bait. Was almost disappointed when he didn't.

"Well. Ms. Robertson alleges that you harassed her in her home during the visit in question. Maybe you shouldn't sell your cookies in that neighborhood anymore."

"Or what?" Lord, had that really come out of her mouth? She knew that thumbing her nose at a police officer was never a smart idea, knew that she was in a no win situation at the moment, but couldn't seem to help egging him on. His cool attitude and aloof demeanor irritated the hell out of her and she had the perverse desire to find the chink in his armor and crack it wide open.

"If you bother her again we will be forced to bring you in for questioning."

"I'll be arrested."

"Yes."

"Paige what's going on here?" Erik rounded the corner and planted his feet at the base of the porch, arms crossed over his chest.

"Howdy-doody here is threatening to arrest me." She hitched her thumb in Guys general direction, taking satisfaction in the way his eyes widened, then narrowed. Bingo.

"So let him." Erik shrugged. "I'll just bail you out. Maybe we'll even sue the Helena PD."

"You've been warned." Guy turned on his heel.

"Nice to see you again too." She called after his retreating form.

"What was that about? Did he really say he would arrest you?"

"More or less. If I harass Hailey again."

"Why that bitch." Erik swore, leaving Paige to ponder if he was referring to Hailey or Guy."He's really a cop then."

"I guess it sure looks that way." She sighed. "Can you believe it?"

"Not really."

"Thanks for coming out here when you did. It was starting to get ugly."

"Yeah I thought you could use some help. What a waste."

"Hmmm?" She queried absently.

"That fine ass and such a foul temper. And they let him carry a gun." Erik tsked.

"You're incorrigible you know that?" Paige hooted with laughter. "Is the food ready yet? I'm starving." She was mildly surprised to realize it was the truth.Despite the stress and emotional upheaval that had succeeded in battering her throughout most of the day, she was hungry. Ravenous, in fact, and the heady scent of meat roasting on charcoal reached all the way to the front yard.

"Come on, Killer, let's go eat, and after that we can swim."

"Are you kidding?" She shoved him ahead of her. "It's too cold for swimming. For crying out loud, Erik, it's October. In Montana."

"So? We did it in Alaska."

"It was August when we were in Alaska and that was a hot spring, not a back yard pool."

"Details. Besides the pool is heated." He scoffed, handing her a paper plate, which promptly slid from her fingers to land on the deck with a soft thud.

"Oops, thin plate. And the heater barely works. If it's even on."

"Here take mine. I'll get another one." He deftly slid a second plate under the thick burger, ketchup only, the way she always ate them, and fished out a second bun for himself from the plastic bag next to the grill.

"Mmmm. So good; hard to believe I'm eating right now but I can't help myself, you're a grilling machine. The grill King." She pronounced, sinking to the cool stone of the patio and shifting her plate to her left hand in order to dip her fingers into the water. "Okay this pool is seriously cold. You can forget that swim."

"You're done with the burger already?"

"Almost. I told you I was hungry."

"Glad to see you've got your appetite back. That's one thing I've always admired about you Paige. You bounce. Was it hard seeing them again?" He slipped an arm around her and scooted closer until they were seated hip to shoulder.

"Hailey? A little, to tell you the truth. I really used to like her. I remember all the fun we had together as kids and in a way I miss it. But who really stays friends, close friends, with kids they ran around with in grade school?"

"Besides us?"

"Besides us."

"And don't forget junior and high school."

"That too but by sixth grade I was already enrolled at Saint Teresa's, remember?"

"We still had weekends and holidays." He reminded her.

"Yeah." She leaned into him with a sigh. "I'm surprised you were never closer with her." Erik had been just as much a fixture in her life as Hailey.

"Let's just say you were the glue that bonded Hailey and I together. When you weren't around..." He shrugged.

"You never liked her all that much."

"I didn't trust her."

"I did. Until today." She muttered, methodically chipping away at the cherry red polish that adorned her toes. "What a bitch. Why would she lie like that? And filing a fake police report?" Paige shook her head, disgusted. "Isn't there a law against that?"

"Yes but it's hard to prove, most of the time. Then again, they can't prove you harassed her either."

"Well I didn't."

"I know that. You wouldn't lie about it if you had argued with her."

"When she gave me the cold shoulder, I took the hint and left."

"Are you going to call her?"

"Hell no. What for?"

"What about him? Paige?" He prompted when she remained silent.

"I don't know," She responded honestly. "I don't know anything about him anymore." She sighed. "He could be married, or have children, or both."

"Well we know he's not gay. You're welcome, by the way." He added at her startled glance.

"He could still be a married man now." She continued after a moment. "Or seeing someone. Anyhow, it doesn't matter. Or did you fail to notice the death stare he leveled on me the whole time he was here? Trust me, Erik; he was here on business and business alone. If he could have gotten someone else to take the call, he would have. Guy doesn't want me now."

"Do you want him?" Erik's tone was measured, his inquisitive eyes missing nothing.

"I don't want someone who isn't willing to give me the time of day unless he's arresting me." She exhaled.

"Good for you, honey."

"I still think about him."

"I know." He sighed.

"I wish things had turned out differently..."

"But they didn't."

"No," She swallowed, "they didn't."

# Chapter Seven

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

"Don't be such a wuss."

"That's easy for you to say. You're a mutant."

"It's just water. We go on the count of three."

"Wait-"

"One-"

"Erik-"

"Two-"

Icy water hit her with a resounding splash as they plunged into the deep end. Erik came up grinning, Paige came up screaming.

"What the Hell happened to three?"

"It was implied." He laughed, "Gee Paige; you've got water up your nose. And you really should have used water proof mascara this morning."

"I hate you." She coughed and sputtered, gasping with the effort it took to tread water.

"Dive a couple of times," He instructed, "Then you won't feel the cold quite so much. In fact," He continued, splashing past her, "the water will feel warmer than the air."

"Yeah that's called hypothermia." She muttered, but swam hard to the four foot shallows anyway, curling her body into a flawless underwater dive as she went. She loved to swim, although the frigid water was a blunt shock to her system, invading every cell and tissue to bring her startlingly, vividly to life.

She forced herself to go deeper, streamlining through the underwater world until she reached the bottom and pressing her body flush against the flat coral blue tile, imagining the bottom dropping out beneath her. She pictured herself falling, falling, falling into a vivid underwater paradise of brightly colored fish and rainbow sprays of light swirling around her.

The tap on her leg combined with the burning sensation in her lungs served to pull her from the beautiful fantasy world daydream. The solid gray shape bumped her again, higher on her thigh this time. Water flooded her suddenly open mouth and she saw black spots an instant before she felt the pain. And then she was being pulled up fast and hard, roughly propelled through water that was clouded and bubbly and tinged with red.

"Holy shit!" Erik gasped, flinging her over the side of the pool before hauling himself onto the deck to kneel beside her, turning her roughly onto her side and whacking the middle of her back as she vomited up a healthy dose of chlorinated pool water. "That's it Paige, breathe, breathe, that's the way."

"Erik." She gasped, fire burning through her entire body.

"I've got to call for help. Don't move."

"Don't-leave me here." She groaned, but he was already gone. She struggled to breathe, tried in vain to pull her shaking body away from the edge of the pool, away from that...thing, and then panicked when she couldn't draw air fast enough, when her muscles refused to cooperate.

"That's right.307 Mockingbird Lane, white house with brick trim, mile long drive way, right. Yes." She heard him speak into the phone, heard the whoosh of the sliding glass doors and his footsteps pattering on the tile. "Shark attack. You heard me. Just get here." He growled into the handset before tossing it aside.

"Honey lean forward," His arms came around her and the next thing she knew a thick white blanket was wrapped around her. "Can you sit up on your own?"

"I-I think so." Her teeth chattered. "It hurts." She flinched, staring at the top of his head as he bent low in front of her and wrapped a white towel around her injured leg. "Is it gone?" She asked numbly.

He looked at her quizzically.

"My leg." She croaked, violent shivering making both her movements and her voice jerky.

"Oh," He tried to smile. "No, it's not gone. He just took a little test nibble, from the look of it."

"A...test...nibble?"

"Well you might need a couple of stitches." He admitted, applying pressure to her wound.

"Oh my God."

"No, no," He rushed on, "Tiny stitches, Paige. Teeny tiny stitches. It's not that bad."

"Why is...there a...a...shark-in the pool?"

"Don't try to talk; an ambulance is on its way. You're going to be fine." He glanced at the pool behind them.

"Erik?" Her eyes darted fearfully to the deceptively calm surface of the water. Evening had given way to night; moonlight glittered along the surface that winked back at her. Tranquil waters that hid a monster; she gulped the night air, nausea threatening to overcome her.

"Paige? Paige?" Erik's voice grew dim in the background, fading away altogether as the darkness engulfed her.

***

Consciousness returned to her by slow, groggy degrees and her first coherent thought was a profound sense of gratitude when she realized she was in a hospital bed and not bleeding poolside at the homestead. Her second thought gave consideration to which she would rather deal with, if given a choice, the shark or Guy, who had apparently taken up residence in the corner of the room sometime during the night. He was standing there, his back to the wide double window, watching her through eyes that revealed pretty much nothing. The shark was looking better by the minute.

"Trouble seems to follow you lately."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Her chin came up a notch.

"Where's your bodyguard"?" Guy asked, lowering himself into the chair beside her hospital bed and peering over the edge of a shiny chrome bar to inspect the thick gauze that encased her left calve.

"I don't know. I just woke up." She told him, plucking at her white linen blanket and gazing curiously at her wounded leg. The pain had receded to mere mild discomfort and her leg was indeed whole and intact, as promised by Erik.

"You slept through all that?" He indicated the bandage with one eyebrow lifted.

"I wish, but I guess I dozed after my stitches were finished. Erik must be in the cafeteria or at the nurses' station filling out paperwork. He wouldn't have left the hospital." Of that much she was certain.

"You're lucky he was with you last night. Damn lucky." He sighed.

"Did you come all this way to point out the obvious?" She said nastily. The mild discomfort was beginning to work itself into a dull throb and she was in no mood to deal with Guy's sarcasm or his holier-than-thou attitude this morning. In fact, she wasn't even glad to see him. There was no doubt in her mind that he was here in an official capacity; after all, he was decked out in his uniform and badge. For some reason, the fact greatly annoyed her.

"Do you wear that gun everywhere?" She snapped, turning her scathing glare loose on him.

"Yes."

"Too bad I don't have a gun." She muttered.

"Is that a threat?" His lips twitched.

"Take it any way you want." She retorted. "Officer."

"Does it surprise you? That I'm a cop?" He asked, his expression thawing by several degrees. Paige was temporarily mesmerized by the sudden change and she took a moment to gather her thoughts before meeting his eyes and answering truthfully.

"Yes a little."

"Only a little?" He smiled.

"Okay," She admitted. "A lot. If you want the truth, then here it is. I was downright shocked."

"I could tell." He nodded. "I'm sorry our first meeting was official business. It's...good to see you Paige."

Huh? She frowned, regarding him skeptically. He was sorry? After practically cramming his 'official business' down her throat the previous day, he was 'sorry'? "Why I'm surprised Guy." She teased. "You remembered my name today."

"Yes," He answered slowly, "I remembered it yesterday too. You're Paige. Did you hit your head last night?" He looked genuinely concerned.

"You mean I'm not Ms. Frey anymore?" She countered, disregarding his head wound question.

"Ah," He looked down, "Now I get it. Let's put it this way-you gave me quite the shock yesterday too. I didn't know you were back. Bottom line is, I'm sorry if I acted like a jerk Paige. You didn't deserve it."

"Uh huh." She nodded without taking her eyes off of him. "That depends upon who you ask, don't you think?" Her tone was deceptively light.

"Hailey tends to get emotional." He shrugged.

"So I've noticed."

"I'm sorry about Denmari." Guy quickly redirected the conversation into safer waters. "I heard he passed away last month."

"Don't be. I'm not."

"Oh, well..Ah..." He coughed, suddenly interested in the diamond pattern of the wallpaper above her bed.

"Thank you for you condolences." Paige sighed, knowing the polite acknowledgement was what 'normal' people were supposed to say in such a situation. "I know you must be very busy today. So we can go ahead with the report now; I'm fine to answer questions, although I'm not sure how much help I'll be. I don't have much information that you all probably haven't already surmised on your own."

"I'm not here to take your statement." He quickly recovered his composure.

"You're not?" Her mind went black, not daring to hope, not anymore.

"No. I came out here to see how you're feeling."

"Uh. My leg hurts." She uttered, sitting up straight against the mountain of pillows someone, probably Erik, had tucked behind her back at some point during the night or early morning.

"I'll bet." Gentle fingers probed her bandage, making her gasp. "That hurts?  
He raised worried eyes to her white face.

"Yes, a little." She told him.

"It's swelling."

"What?!" She jerked away from him, eyes wide.

"Your leg." He frowned, reclaiming his seat. "There's a little swelling but not too much I don't think. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Bad enough." She lifted one shoulder and reached for the ice water on the bedside table, pressed it to her forehead and hoping he would take the hint.

She didn't need anyone fussing and fretting over her, and she damn sure didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her, especially not Guy. The whining and crying could wait until Erik returned, she resolutely decided. For reasons that remained a mystery to her, she would have cried in front of Guy only if a limb were hanging off.

Maybe it was because she had done enough crying over him. Hell, she had done her fair share of crying in front of him too, not to mention on him. No, she reaffirmed with her head held high, she would not let him see how much discomfort she was in. She had her pride, after all. Late as it may have been in coming.

"You got lucky." He repeated, "So has anyone said when they plan on letting you out of here?"

"Nope, you're the first person I've spoken to since I've been laid up here, but the doctor will probably sign the discharge order later today. I can't see any reason why they would want to keep me here. All in all I seem to be pretty well fixed up and not much the worse for wear. Then again who knows? Doctors are habitually either slow or late. It takes three hours just to get checked out of a hospital."

"Erik's taking you home?"

"Oh look at that you know his name today too."

"Paige..."

"Yes, he is." She chose not to heckle him for the moment. "So you're not taking my statement?"

"No, they should be sending someone out this morning to do that."

"Really? Why can't you do it?" She regretted the words almost as soon as they had left her mouth. She didn't really want him to take down her statement. But since he was already right here...

"Conflict of interest."

"You told your boss that we...that we..."

"Used to have a personal relationship?" He helpfully supplied. "Yes."

"But you took the call yesterday." She pointed out.

"True but this is an open investigation."

"It is?"

"Someone tried to kill you." He looked as though he were on the verge of asking yet again if she'd hit her head.

"It was just a stupid prank." She argued, her skin becoming too hot, too tight.

"I don't know about you, but I don't find a shark in a pool the least bit amusing."

"Well obviously I don't find it amusing either." Exasperated, Paige gestured to her injured leg. "It was probably the most terrifying experience I've ever had." She paused to consider this. "It's definitely in the top ten, at least. I've never heard of a shark, an actual shark, swimming in someone's backyard pool. When I felt the nudging I thought it was Erik, trying to tell me it was time to come up for air."

"Wait, back up. You mean to tell me neither you nor Erik saw the animal before or as you jumped in?"

"No, the pool has a retractable hard cover; we hit the switch that brings it back and opens up the pool while we were eating, and dove in straight after our meal. And if we had seen the thing before we leaped in, don't you think we would have, I don't know, not jumped?"

"I meant did you see it an instant before getting into the pool." Ignoring her sarcasm, he delivered the explanation with a calm that Paige found downright enviable. She didn't think she would ever manage to exude his particular brand of quiet confidence. She was either calm, or confident. To her knowledge, she had never managed to pull of both simultaneously.

"Anyway, I was lying flat against the bottom of the pool," She forged ahead, "but something felt...off." She frowned, taking herself back to the underwater nightmare. "I opened my eyes and twisted around, like I said, I was expecting to see Erik beside me, only it wasn't him, it was the-" She shuddered, "shark. I saw it from the side and his mouth was by my leg."

"What happened next?" He prompted when she fell silent.

"I'm not proud of this but I screamed. Underwater. Not the most intelligent move to make, I know."

"Seems like a pretty natural reaction to me. I can imagine the shock at not only finding a Tiger shark in your swimming pool, but coming face to face with it."

"Yeah, no kidding, that's something you don't hear about every day."

"Try never."

"Seriously?"

"Well, I'm sure it's happened before, somewhere...but not that I've ever heard of."

"Huh." She mulled that over.

"Let's put it this way, Erik gave the county dispatcher the shock of the century when he called for an ambulance and reported a shark attack at a private residence." He shook his head. "No, that doesn't happen every day. The entire department-and most of the city of Helena-is talking about it; the only people who aren't talking haven't heard about it yet."

"I don't do interviews." She teased.

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure this thing will die down in a reasonable amount of time. And of course the department won't comment on an ongoing investigation."

"Thanks." For all her jesting, she really didn't relish the thought of reporters camping out on her front lawn. "So-it was a Tiger shark?" She asked, remembering his earlier comment.

"A young one. A baby, from the look of it. That's probably why it didn't try to follow you to the surface, and that's definitely why you didn't sustain a more serious injury." His gaze dropped once more the swath of gauzy bandage that encased her leg.

"Yeah," She murmured, flexing her leg and then wincing when she felt her skin tug at the sutures she couldn't see. "I think the worst of it was shock and swallowing so much water."

"The fact that it was dying helped a lot."

"Why was it dying? Was it sick?" Not that she really cared. As far as she was concerned, it deserved anything it got after taking a bite out of her, test nibble or not.

"Tiger sharks-any shark really-can't survive in the chlorinated water. The cold temperature of the pool was also working against it." He explained. "They can survive in fresh water for several months, but a frigid chemically treated pool just won't do."

"Oh," She smiled. "That makes sense."

"You've had medication this morning?"

"They must have given me a little something. Is it that obvious?" To her way of thinking, they hadn't given her nearly enough for the pain, but it wasn't getting much worse, so she once again shoved the discomfort from her mind, focusing instead on the man who was seated beside her. Her ex-lover, her sort of friend...her childhood bad boy turned upstanding citizen. A cop.

"No," He lied. "I can't tell that you've had any medicine at all."

"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Well in my defense, I know next to nothing about marine life. So it's dead then? The shark?"

"It's dead." Guy confirmed. "Now the question is how did it end up in your backyard in the first place?"

"I told you it was probably a prank." She wished he would quit harping on it, that he would just let it go. At the very least, she would have preferred he discussed that aspect of her night from hell with someone else but her-anyone else but her. The why and how of the incident was both disturbing and unnerving and she didn't feel ready to examine any of it too closely just yet.

"Gum in your shoes is a prank; hang up calls are a prank," he gave her a withering look, "Hell, itching powder in your underwear is a prank. A shark in your pool is not a prank. That's in a category all its own. Someone wanted to hurt you, Paige."

"Okay, you're probably right." She sighed. It was a possibility that she'd spent all night fervently trying to deny, though she was certain Erik had suspected much the same theory as Guy. Parts of the night were still a horrific blur, but she knew she'd never forget the murderous look her friends face as he'd growled instructions to the dispatcher at the other end of the phone line. He had looked as though he'd like to hurt someone, or smash something-a rare occurrence with happy go lucky Erik, even though he was frequently intense by nature.

No, there was no getting around the chilling truth of the matter. Someone had wanted to deliberately hurt her; at the very least scare her.

Worse was the knowledge that 'someone' was still out there. Waiting and maybe even watching her every move. She wasn't stupid. Fighting the strong pull of denial, yes, but not ignorant of reality and how human nature functioned. You didn't go to so much trouble over a random act of violence. No, whoever had transplanted the shark to her pool had gone to an awful lot of trouble. That they would be back was a certainty of which she had no doubt.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you?" He pulled his chair closer to the side of the bed, propping both arms on the adjustable chrome railing.

"Not really, no."

"Not really? Or no?" His sharp cops eyes focused on her with such intensity she had to look away.

"No." She clarified. "But you have to consider that I may not have been the target here."

"You think whoever did this was trying to get at Erik?"

"Maybe. I don't know." She ran her fingers through hair that was badly tangled and in desperate need of a shampoo. "But it could be, don't you think? After all, night swimming is something he would do, not me."

"Yet you were in that pool last night."

"Only because he all but shoved me in." She laughed before covering her mouth, eyes big as saucers. "That's not-I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry." Guy held up one hand. "Erik is not a suspect."

"Oh thank God." She breathed, one hand still pressed to her face.

"How long have you been back home, Paige?"

"A few weeks. I came in a week before the funeral. Erik flew out with me. Why?"

"Had either of you used the pool before last night?"

"No."

"Not at all? Not even once before last night? You're sure about that?" He leaned forward .

"Absolutely. Guy what are you getting at?"

"It's nothing to worry about." He eased the light blanket higher against her chest.

"Oh no you don't!" She warned, forcefully shoving the blanket back down."This is my life-and my best friend's life-that we're discussing here. I want to know what you're thinking."

He regarded her for long moments before he said "You've changed since the last time I saw you."

"That was six years ago. Of course I've changed; that goes without saying, doesn't it? Now tell me what you were getting at a minute ago and don't you dare try and distract me."

"God no," He grinned, "I wouldn't want to do that, now would I?"

"Not if you know what's good for you." The threat hung in the air between them, although what kind of an adversary she made stuck in a hospital bed, with a bum leg no less, she couldn't say. Judging by the way Guy was laughing she guessed that at the moment she didn't look all that intimidating.

"I asked if you've used the pool in order to establish a timeline and a routine." He explained.

"Ah. So it's hard saying how long the shark had been in there, and you think we were being watched?"

"I'm certain of it, that you were being watched, but what I meant was, would anyone have reasonably expected either of you to use the pool between now and say, six or seven months down the road."

"Oh." She frowned, smoothing the wrinkles from the hospital gown that hung from her shoulders. "It's possible but not very likely. Most people wouldn't, and I'd like to think that Erik and I look pretty normal to outsiders. At least I think we do. Well," She amended, "I do, at least."

"Right, so without reason to assume otherwise, our perp probably intended for you to find the animal next spring. When it was much, much bigger."

"Oh Lord," She gasped, trying hard not to picture a full grown Tiger shark gliding through her in ground pool, and failing miserably. The imagine was nothing short of horrifying. "Thank God it could never have survived that long."

"Not even close." He agreed. "But I'm betting that was the original intent."

"So someone didn't just want to hurt one or both of us, did they?" She whispered.

"What's going on in here?"

Paige's eyes dilated and Guy jumped when he burst into the small room, eyes blazing. "Is he bothering you?" Erik demanded.

"That's none of your business." Guy responded coldly.

"The fuck it isn't." Erik shot back, green eyes flashing.

"Please," Paige eyed the two of them warily, "Sit. Both of you."

"I was about to leave."

"Damn right you were." Erik snapped.

"I'll call you tonight Paige."

"Yeah, okay." She nodded, her gaze still bouncing between both men.

"What did hot pants want with you?" Erik snorted, plunking two cups of coffee onto the bedside table, cursing when the hot liquid sloshed over the rims.

Paige flopped back in the bed, her head hitting the pillows with more force than was necessary. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She sighed. "Erik, I think we've got trouble."

# Chapter Eight

"Are you sure you have to go?" Her hands twisted in the hem of the curve hugging purple cotton tank top, horrified at the thought of being trapped, alone, in the house, more so that she was on the verge of actually whining about it. She was a grown woman, for heaven's sake, and more than capable of surviving a weekend alone.

There was also Erik to consider; she had no right to lay a guilt trip, however unintentional, on him. Besides, if Erik had been the target of the pool attack then he was better off, safer, in New York. And if she herself had been the intended recipient...well, she would deal with that nerve wracking problem if and when she was forced to. There was no sense worrying needlessly about something that may well have been an isolated incident.

"Duty calls." Erik snapped the lock into place on his patent leather suitcase. "You're welcome to come with, you know." The offer was sincere as he turned to face her. "Maybe that's a better idea, Paige. I don't like the thought of you here all alone."

"There's no time for me to get a seat." She pointed out the obvious. "Besides, you're supposed to leave in half an hour. And I'll only get in the way."

"You're sure?"

"Positively. I'll be fine." She forced a smile.

"You're scared."

"Am not. Well, maybe a little. But look, I'm getting around so much better."Paige executed a semi-flawless pirouette for her friends benefit. "Good as new. And as for...the other, well, we aren't sure anything will happen, are we? After all, it's been over three weeks and nothing untoward has occurred."

"It has been a quiet month." He conceded, looking marginally more comfortable with the idea of leaving her behind, even for a short trip.

"See there? I'll be fine. Now," She stepped up to straighten his tie. "You go take care of that ad agency you've worked so hard to build."

"I'll see you on Wednesday, Princess." His tone was teasing.

"Princess my ass." She muttered, watching his long coat flap in the wind twenty minutes later as he jogged down the front stairs. "That's it then," She spoke to the empty room. "I'm on my own. Yep, just me and cable TV for three whole days." Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

"I can do this." Except she wasn't wholly convinced of that despite her bolstering words of self-encouragement. The night closed in around her, the dark oozing through each window, each door, casting shadows on the wall. She hated the night, this wretched time when the fears that haunted her mind came out to play. Light. I need light, she decided, hurrying from room to room, flipping switches until the entire lower level of the two story house was lit up like high noon in the old West.

She eyes the darkened stairwell that beckoned like a crypt in the corner of the artificially bright living room. Did she dare? No, she decided a moment later, there was absolutely no reason for her to go upstairs. Unless she wanted to go to bed before sunrise, she groaned, the taste of defeat strong and bitter. "Okay," She took a deep breath, "Okay I can sleep down here. In the den. Who needs a bedroom? For that matter-who needs a bed?" Yeah, she told herself, the couch would be way more comfortable. And it wasn't defeat, she consoled her wounded pride. There was absolutely no shame in being afraid of the dark. Besides, she wasn't really afraid, rather, she didn't prefer the dark, she mentally insisted, one hand coming up to rest on the thick newel post. She could go upstairs anytime she wanted to. Right now, if she had a mind to. She was not afraid. Her quickening pulse said otherwise.

"No," She squared her shoulders. "I will go up these damn stairs." The old Paige was terrified of the night. The old Paige hated to be left alone. The old Paige would have turned tail and fled to the den for the duration of the evening, not daring to come out until dawns gentle light filtered through the black lace curtains.

She probably would have barricaded the door for good measure. "They're just stairs." One deep breath later, she consoled herself with the knowledge that there was a light switch waiting for her at the top of the landing and began the long ascent to the second floor. Each creak of board was a nerve wracking chill, an icy tendril of fear that played at the back of her neck. She resisted the urge to spin around, though she was sorely tempted to do just that.

The middle of a dark flight of stairs was not the place to make a sudden movement, Paige reminded herself. Three more steps to go, then two, and one. Finally, she made it to the landing, let out the breath she had been holding and allowed her hand to shoot out and flip the switch at her right. Glorious semi-fluorescent light flooded the hallway, easing her tension tenfold. No hidden monsters lurked in the shadows, no unseen hands reached out to grab her.

"I did it." She murmured, striding down the thickly carpeted hall and gaining confidence with each padded step. "Whew." She breezed into her bedroom, stopping only long enough to retrieve a thick comforter and the handset to the cordless phone before trekking downstairs to hole up in the den for the remainder of the night. "Baby steps." She yawned an hour later, eyeing the chair she'd shoved under the doorknob. "Tomorrow I won't bar the door."

***

The house was silent and dark by the time she made her way back home from an afternoon shopping trip two days after Erik had left for New York. Earlier in the day, a trip to Helena's outdoor walking mall and dinner at a quiet little Italian restaurant with a book and a glass of tea and plenty of noise for company had seemed the perfect way to keep her mind off of Erik being gone for another night. But now, squinting into the dark, she was beginning to wish she'd stayed home, cooked ravioli from a can and blared the television.

The headlights were doing an overall terrible job of cutting through the dense fog that coated the area in a thick blanket, and she was grateful she had grown up in this house. If she hadn't, the upward climb and twisting and turning driveway that led to her front door would have been downright treacherous. As it was, she switched off the radio and focused carefully on the dark path that wound through the woods for nearly a full mile, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted the porch lights at the front of the house. Both were on, as she had left them, but otherwise the house looked silent as a tomb. She shivered at the thought of going into a dark, empty house at such a late hour and had the insane urge to simply turn the car around, make her way back down the lane and return to the heart of the city. She could find a hotel for the remainder of the night. One look out the window that had already become all but obliterated by mist and ice quelled that notion. Driving around in weather like this when she didn't have to was beyond dumb.

Sleeping in the car was another idea that was quickly considered and even more quickly discarded. It was freezing out and Erik would never let her hear the end of it when he finally came home if he were to find her huddled in the driver's seat of her car, attempting a good night's rest. Reminding herself that she was a grown woman, she squared her shoulders and pushed her way firmly from the car, regarding the house with much trepidation before trudging up the walkway to stand before the ornately carved, solid wood front door. Damn, but she wished she'd thought to leave an inside light on this morning. There was nothing worse than coming home to a dark house on a very black night. There was barely even a moon to cast any illumination onto the property. A smugglers moon, she recalled the old saying, trying not to tremble.

When, after several minutes, the bitter cold became too much, she pushed the key into the lock and turned it, heard the click that told her the door was now unlocked, and very slowly pushed her way inside. The ancient grandfather clock in the parlor boomed the hour, nearly scaring ten years off of Paige's life in the process and she slumped against the door frame, gave an awkward giggle and stripped out of her coat and boots, letting them fall in a heap on the floor mat.

"Now to turn on the lights..." She was half way across the entryway when she felt a pair of rough hands grab her shoulders. She spun around, a scream lodging itself in her throat and coming out as a squeak instead of the deafening roar she'd been going for. Damn, her mind whirled, he hadn't made a sound, just reached out and grabbed her quick as a striking snake. And she was sure it was a man who held her in his ever tightening grasp. She went for his face, but before her hand made contact, it was manacled by iron-hard fingers, twisted behind her and painfully shoved up between her shoulder blades.

The more she twisted and struggled and bucked against him, the more iron his grip became; when one arm snaked around her waist and anchored her back against him, Paige felt true panic-she was completely, utterly helpless against the faceless, nameless stranger who'd invaded her home. She had always wondered how she would react in such a situation.

Don't panic, she remembered from her college self-defense courses, stay calm and...And what? Her mind went blank. Damn. Don't struggle-the words seemed to whisper through her mind, and suddenly she recalled the instructor's rape prevention training. Don't struggle, don't do anything to further provoke your attacker. Use your strength against him when the opportunity presents itself. She took three deep breaths, telling herself over and over again to stay calm, to wait for the opportunity to fight or flee or both, reminding herself that the goal was to stay alive, above all else. This she repeated like a mantra, because truly, her instinct was to fight and rage against the man who held her captive. A brash move that, at this particular moment at least, was sure to land her in more trouble.

"Shhh...."

The sound was whispered close enough to her ear to send chills down her spine, as though her attacker could sense her rising agitation. She gasped at the feel of teeth closing lightly over her ear lobe, followed closely by a caressing tongue and smooth hard lips that closed over the sensitive flesh. He whispered to her as though he meant to calm a loved one, slid his fingers under her shirt and splayed them against her rib cage as though he were seducing a lover. Her sharp intake of breath did little to calm her and to her horror, even brought them a fractional inch closer together. His hands were bare, she discovered, fighting to control the strong emotions that churned deep within. Oh lord his hands were bare...fingerprints. He would leave fingerprints in her house. Dear God he meant to kill her!

"Paige." He whispered in her ear once more, the tip of his tongue following the muted word. She froze. That voice. She knew that voice....

"Guy?" She whispered tentatively.

He hesitated and then made a sound that she thought could have been "Mmmm" before he dipped his head to her shoulder.

"Guy!" She all but shouted, indignant now. "You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing?" She tried to turn around, only to have his hold tighten even more and suddenly she understood.

"Oh....so that's the game we're playing." She grinned. "Okay. No lights." She agreed when he released her a moment later. She was almost ready to forgive him for terrifying her when he slid the blindfold around her head and settled it firmly over her eyes.

"Uh...Guy..." She murmured, unsure but willing to play along for the moment. If he got any kinkier than the blindfold though....

He touched a finger that tasted faintly of salt to her lips and pulled her shirt over her head, pausing when he discovered that she wore no bra underneath the heavy top. Strong hands trembled when they reached for the snap on her jeans and the sound of the metal closure popping free seemed to echo through the room. She stood still as though rooted in place, still reeling from the heady shock of being here like this with him. He seemed to steady himself somewhat as he took a step closer to her, although he seemed unsure of what to do next, where to touch and so his hands trailed everywhere, one finger reaching out to blaze a path around her breast, keeping his touch whisper light, circling closer to its crest with every passing second until she thought she would die if he didn't touch her more, everywhere-now.

Paige swayed a little on her feet and gasped when with his other hand, he worked her zipper down a little more and slipped an eager hand into the front of her jeans. Cool fingers flirted with the ruffled edge of her panties for what seemed to her to be far too long before finally breaching the barrier to cup her, skin to skin, separating her with ease. Her hands came up instinctively to clutch at the thin fabric of his T shirt, every sound, every touch was magnified tenfold by her lack of sight. Anticipation left her breathless and clinging to the rising heat as he continued his slow torture, one finger gliding back and forth, wringing liquid heat with every bold stroke.

She was barely conscious of winding her arms around his neck; her sole focus was dead center and about two feet down, on the long finger that was pushing deep inside her now and driving her to the edge of sane and rational thought. His lips and tongue played at the corner of her mouth, enticing her to open for him in every way possible and Paige fought the achingly sweet sensation that was steadily building, forced the frantic motion of her hips to slow down, a near impossible feat, but she didn't want the magic to end, not yet.

Right then she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in this sensual fog that he seemed to effortlessly weave, a dark quiet place where they were the only two people left on Earth. Head tilted, she pressed herself closer and opened to his tongue, groaning into his mouth when the move caused the palm of his hand to press tighter to her overheated flesh, crying out when his thumb moved over her in a series of slick rapid strokes that incited a frenzy of movement.

"Nooo..." The protest was dragged from her when he withdrew his hand a split second later. One lean arm stayed firmly anchored at her waist and for this she was profoundly grateful. She was pretty sure she would have ended up on the floor as he deftly maneuvered the course denim of her jeans down legs that had gone liquid along with the rest of her. One hand came up to touch the thick material that covered her eyes, and she heard him make a tsking sound that was at once teasing and stern. What would he do if she dared to remove the blindfold? Did he have a set of handcuffs stashed somewhere? After the briefest moment of speculation, she decided not to risk it, though strangely enough the idea served to cause a fresh wave of heat to sweep through her already raging nerve endings.

The house was cool and drafty since she had not bothered to turn the heat on before leaving earlier in the day, and the bite in the air was felt all the more by the way she was exposed, bare to the skin save for what was surely the skimpiest pair of panties that she possessed within her wardrobe. Tiny frissons of heat ricocheted through her when hands that were rough and intensely hot skimmed over the swells of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, curving over slim hips as though caressing a finely made hourglass. His heat contrasted sharply with the cold and the sensation was tantalizingly bittersweet.

A strangled moan escaped, unbidden, when she felt the whisper light touch brush down the center of the lace that barely covered her most private region from top to bottom before two strong fingers buried themselves between her thighs to rub back and forth, slow and steady and strong and relentless until she knew he must have felt explicit evidence of her desire on the digits that were determined to continue on in their sweet torture.

Adrenaline surged and Paige pitched forward to catch herself on his hard shoulders, alternating between pressing her thighs tightly together and biting her lower lip, wondering now when he would end this torment, hoping it would be soon. Each stroke wound her tighter and she didn't know how much more she could take. And then he leaned forward to taste her. She felt his mouth, hot and devouring as he divided his attention between raining biting kisses on her thighs and swirling the tip of his tongue on the tight bud of her desire before covering her completely with his mouth, using hands and teeth and tongue to bring her once more to the edge, his maddening habit of stopping just short of release making her cry out in abject frustration. She had become a wild thing under his ministrations, seeing nothing, hearing nothing save for the blood that rushed through her veins and her own desperate need.

She felt something akin to sobbing, grateful relief when he finally slid up her body in a graceful, catlike movement and gripped her in a move that screamed of blatant possession; a second later, Paige was literally caught between a rock and a hard place-the rock being the wall that her back was suddenly forced against, the hard place his arousal pressing into her, moving up and down, making the lace of her panties rub against her most sensitive areas and very nearly causing her to lose it right then and there. She whimpered when he teased her further, slapping his swollen shaft against her before possessing her.

He didn't bother to remove the thin scrap of lace, but simply moved it aside, lifted her with one arm beneath her bottom and drove into her with a force that wrung a hoarse, primal sound from her; she could hold out no longer, the orgasm taking over then, to roll on and on, mingling with his own a second later, until they were both gasping for precious air and half-heartedly clinging to one another.

He stroked the damp hair from her face, kissed her forehead, and slowly released her when he seemed confident that she wouldn't fall to the floor in a boneless heap. Paige was spent and completely sated, steeped as she was in the hazy glow of aftermath and exhaustion, and rather than move away from him, she remained close, enjoying the skin to skin contact, resting her head on his shoulder and leaning heavily into his solid warmth until she felt his lips curve against her temple. He picked her up then, folded her close to his bare chest and made his way up the staircase, carrying her high against him all the way to her bedroom.

She sighed true and deep, more content than she could remember being in a very long time, maybe more so than she had ever been in her entire life. The knowledge that she was still wearing his blindfold nagged at her, but not enough to warrant her moving even the few inches required to remove the garment. She felt him pause by the bedroom door and then the turn of a knob sounded, the creak of wood, and then they were in, moving until she knew they must be at her queen size bed. The sheets were blessedly cool as he lay her down and covered her with a thickly quilted bedspread.

"Stay." She managed to utter, turning on her side and seeking the sleep her body demanded. A moment later his solid weight was next to her, her back fitting nicely against his chest, one hand coming up to rest on the heavy arm that anchored her to him. She felt him remove the blindfold just before she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

# Chapter Nine

Paige woke feeling better than she could remember feeling in a long time. Years, probably, she reflected, indulging in a languid full body stretch. Shafts of early morning sunlight filtered through the thin sheer curtains that hung at her windows in place of the dusty old brocade drapery that had probably been original to the house, much like the old lead paint that had been long since remedied.

She was alone in the bedroom, alone in the house too, probably. Silence reigned in the halls and the only sounds she could make out were the whirring of the ceiling fan overhead and the faint song of the birds outside her window as they went about their daily business. 'Business' was something Paige knew she ought to be attending to, but the lure of a quiet space and two pillows propped beneath her head was simply too powerful a force to resist.

Two pillows. She felt a smile play at the corners of her lips. She had always preferred two pillows over one when she slept, one pillow tucked ever so slightly below the other. She was surprised that Guy had remembered her saying so; especially after so many years. They had never actually done any sleeping together, which made the act all the more remarkable. He had taken the time to tuck the top sheet around her, as well, before covering her with a blanket. Another personal preference, albeit one she couldn't remember ever mentioning to Guy. She let her eyes close, pulled the covers a little closer, and replayed the night in her blissfully contented mind. Her face heated at the memory of what he had done to her-what they had done together. It was everything she could've asked for and more. He was she could have-and had-hoped for. True, she still couldn't wrap her head around his chosen occupation. A cop, she marveled. Who would have ever figured Guy, the original bad boy, would grow up and pursue a career in law enforcement. Certainly not her and she'd have bet an entire weeks pay that the city of Helena had been equally shocked by his one-eighty. The boy who had once taken a bat to an entire neighborhoods trash cans and mailboxes was not only serving and protecting the same community he'd once terrorized, but he was driving a cop car that he hadn't had to steal. That particular memory brought a grin to Paige's lips. Yes, times had certainly changed, and in more ways than one, for it looked as though she and Guy had just reconnected in a big way. She wished he would have stayed with her the entire night, woken up beside her. There was so much she wanted to say to him now. Then again, Erik was due back this morning; Guy probably hadn't wanted to risk a scene that surely would have proven ugly and awkward, if not outright violent.

Paige cringed, her afterglow effectively shattered. Erik would be livid when he found out what she had done. He'd never liked Guy, or trusted him, for that matter. Things weren't any different now. If anything, the situation had only worsened over the years. Erik was more inclined to excuse what he viewed as 'Paige's moment of temporary idiocy', given that she had been a teenage girl when she'd last dated Guy. But he wouldn't be so forgiving in his assessment of her choice now. Well, she vowed, swinging slim legs over the edge of the bed and rising from its comfort, Guy had changed-a lot-and obviously for the better. Erik was just going to have to learn to accept that fact. And if he couldn't, well, that was just too bad, because it really wasn't up to him.

She took the time for an unhurried shower, gleefully wringing every last drop from the modern, updated water heater and shrieking when the spray turned cold. Lotion was another luxury she allowed herself this fine morning. In New York, not much of anything was slow and languid, at least not in the morning. Paige was enjoying the change of pace immensely, falling little by little into slower, less urgent habits that had lay dormant over the past several years. God, but she'd nearly forgotten what it was like not to have to scurry and rush at the crack of dawn. Here, she was on vacation, albeit a working one. Here, there were no masses gathered in the streets, no trains to catch. In Montana she drove a car and wasn't forced to adhere to deadlines and schedules and planning. In New York, she was forever mapping not only her days, but her routines, calculating the time and factoring in allowances for the traffic, be it foot or taxi or subway.

The silence was another pleasant fact of her old stomping ground and one which she intended to enjoy to her hearts content. There was still noise, of course. Everyplace had its own soundtrack. But she much preferred the country flavor of wind and weather and nature to cacophony of voices that were a constant backdrop in larger cities.

The people, she mused, applying chocolate brown liner to her eyes with a practiced hand, were the one thing she truly did miss about New York, even if she sometimes wished they were a little quieter as they went about their day. The multitude of people, the sheer number, made her feel safe. Erik had thought her crazy when she'd confessed that little bit to him a few months after they had first moved to the city. He walked around with a perpetual case of heartburn over the possibility that Paige could get mugged at any given time, even though no one they knew had actually ever been mugged. There's a first time for everything, Erik-Mr. Adventure himself-go figure-was ever fond of repeating to her, and Paige supposed that was true enough. Still, she found large groups of people to be reassuring, at least in big cities. Here in her home town, everyone knew her and so crowds made her feel more like a bug under a microscope, an object on display when she much preferred anonymity.

Paige wrapped an oversized towel around her and secured it under her arm before heading down the stairs in search of a sign of life. A quick perusal of the house revealed that the situation was as she suspected-she was alone in the house.

"Huh." Her normally smooth brow creased as she stood in the center of the living room with her hands on her hips. Heading back upstairs, she made quick work of dressing in yoga pants and a lime green tank top with white ribbing at the top and bottom, throwing on some lip gloss and snatching her cell phone from her discarded purse before bouncing back into the front room.

She perched on one of the high back chairs that graced the room and punched in Guys' number, listening as the line rang once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" A sleepy voice came through on the line.

"Hailey?" I'll kill him.

"Who is this?" Her old friend sounded more alert in an instant.

"It's Paige. Where's Guy?" She demanded.

"He's sleeping. Why?" Hailey snapped.

"Well," She began in a thoroughly irate tone, only to pause as Erik walked through the front door with a cup of take-out coffee in each hand.

"I-" She began again, as a terrible thought began to take shape in her mind.

"Paige." Erik murmured, standing stock still in the entryway. His eyes met hers.

"Hailey. Has Guy left the house since last night?" She asked without breaking eye contact with Erik.

"Not that it's any business of yours, but Guy spent the night right here in his own bed last night. Why?" She sounded more curious than angry now.

"Thanks, bye." Paige murmured, snapping the phone closed and swallowing against the sudden dryness in her throat.

"Paige..." Erik set down the cardboard drink holder and held a hand out to her, pleading for an understanding that he wasn't entirely sure he deserved.

"It was you, wasn't it?" She whispered.

"Last night?"

"Yes."

"Yes." He confirmed with a nod, still watching her carefully.

"Why?" She uttered the one word that delved straight to the crux of the matter, the only question that really mattered right then.

"Because I love you-"

"Oh don't give me that!" She exploded, throwing her arms up in frustration. "Don't you dare do this to me."

"I do, I always have."

"Erik you can't just...just do this to me. You lied to me." She murmured, struggling to absorb what she could plainly see. "You're not gay."

"No, I'm not gay."

"Were you? I mean, have you ever been..."

"No." He said after several long, tense moments.

"I see." She exhaled before turning on her heel and stomping past him toward the kitchen.

"No, you don't."

"Hmm. Well it looks pretty obvious to me, Erik. You've been lying to me for years about your sexual orientation. And last night you-you-seduced me, and let me think I was making love to another man. And now-" She paused, taking a breath and feeling like she was on the verge of hyperventilating. "What the hell, Erik." She swore vehemently, years of memory playing through her mind in a big, humiliating slideshow. The things she had said and done in front of this man...Paige cringed before turning her back on him.

"Don't turn away from me. I'm in love with you." He insisted. "I know you don't want to hear that, but I am and I was all those years ago, the night I told you I was gay. I was going to tell you how I felt about you, and then you dropped that bombshell about Denmari's mob associations and I knew I had to do something or end up forced away from you. So I pretended to be gay, yes, but I did it to protect you, mostly."

"You did it for yourself." She scoffed, raking him with a lethal gaze.

"Fine," He sighed after several long, tense moments, "I can't talk to you when you're like this anyway. I'll be back tonight and then we are going to talk-about everything."

"No," She told him without bothering to turn around, her stance remaining rigid. "I'll call you if and when I decide that we should talk. Now get out."

"No, we're going to talk. Tonight." His voice was quiet but firm.

"What part of leave don't you get?" She yelled, placing both hands on his chest and shoving for all she was worth. In a move that she wouldn't have thought herself capable of, she managed to catch Erik off-guard. He shoulder hit the wall and Paige's eyes widened briefly in surprise as he righted himself with a vehement curse.

"Stop it!" He exploded. "You can't just shut me out of your life as easily as you just shoved me into that wall-which is something I highly suggest you don't try again. Ever." The warning was deceptively soft spoken. Like a panther, he looked dark and lean and lethal.

"Take your warnings and shove them up your ass." She spun around and extended one arm toward the door. "And while you're at it shove the rest of yourself out the door. What don't you get about me not wanting to talk to you? In fact, I don't want anything from you at all." Which may or may not have been the truth; she was honest enough with herself to grudgingly acknowledge the fact that she was still too angry to admit to Erik.

Then again, screw it-who set him to judge her character? It wasn't as if she owed him her undying honesty. Not after the years long wool he had pulled over her eyes. "Get out," She repeated the terse order one final time and prayed he gave up being argumentative and just followed the command, for now at least.

She would deal with later when it came. For now, she avoided looking him in the eye. The intensity she found in their blue depths was disconcerting.

"Damn it, Paige." He swore, shaking his head and marching to the door, flinging it open with what Paige could only assume was pent up rage and frustration.

Cold, clean night air washed into the kitchen and she greedily drank it in, welcoming the frigid winter offering. "Goodbye Erik." She managed, pressing her back to the wall by the shiny chrome sink and daring a final glance at his retreating form.

"I told you I'll be back tonight."

"I don't want you back here."

"Funny but you didn't find my presence so repulsive last night." His boots crunched over frost that had accumulated on the threshold to form a thin crusty layer. He was leaving.

"Because I thought you were Guy!"

The instant the heated words left her lips, Paige knew she had gone too far. What on Earth had possessed her to say such a thing? She knew a moments dread when he stopped just past the doorframe, in the act of closing the door behind himself, and slowly turned. His eyes honed in on her pale face, narrowing when the full impact of her admission registered. A muscle ticked dangerously in his jaw, and Paige recognized her own harsh statement for what it was-the final blow to his already wounded pride.

Not that she necessarily felt obligated to feel overly concerned with his masculine ego. Still...the hastily blurted statement had cut him deep, that much she could see. And she hadn't meant her scathing comment the way he'd obviously received it. She hadn't meant...

"Erik I'm sorry." She wet her lips. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I don't know about you," He ground out, slamming the door and stalking over to where Paige stood clutching the sink. "But I for one am sick to death of hearing about that son of a bitch! You want him? Fine. He can have you. I am done. Do you hear me Paige? I'm done."

She jumped when his hand slammed onto the counter a foot away from her. He's all you've ever given a damn about anyway, though for the life of me I've never understood why."

"Now wait just a minute," She broke in, chagrined despite the wary way she was now watching Erik.

"No, you wait! I've got something else to say to you, beyond the obvious need to point out that you're in love with an ass that couldn't care less about you. He forgot about you in high school and he's forgotten about you now-this time with the help of your old best friend."

"How kind of you to point that out." Her lips thinned.

"And another thing," He pressed on, moving to stand directly in front of her, his mouth inches from her own. "Before you paint me to be the bad guy who lied to you all of these years, know this-I've turned my entire life upside down and inside out for you Paige. My family thinks I'm gay, for Christ's sake. Do you even know what that's been like for me? The entire city of Helena thinks I'm gay." He bellowed.

"And just how in the hell is that my fault?" She shouted right back, anger taking the place of apprehension.

"You know what? It's not your fault at all. It's mine, for being dumb enough to want to protect you. And for being foolish enough to love you in the first place." He finished on a bitter note.

"I never asked you to love me." Her voice shook.

"No, you didn't, did you?" He regarded her in silence. "You've never been able to see past Guy, have you? And you've never stopped trying to punish the world for what Denmari did to you."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She scoffed, tossing his earlier words back at him with an angry shake of her head.

"Oh, yes I do." He whispered vehemently. "Did you know that after you left that summer, I was called 'queer' and 'faggot' for months?"

Paige pressed her lips together but remained silent in the face of his tirade. Words hard as stone fell around her, some more uncomfortable than others. Combined with his uncharacteristic anger, it was enough to serve the dual purpose of diffusing her own rage and throwing her decidedly off balance. She had seen him angry before, but never in their long acquaintance had she been on the receiving end of his cold rage.

"Do you know how many times my car-and my parents' house-was vandalized after I 'came out'? Did you ever bother to ask? Did you ever give a damn about anyone else other than yourself?" He demanded when still she remained silent. "Forget it," He muttered without missing a beat, "I'm out of here."

Paige winced as the door slammed violently behind the man who had been the only constant in her world for as long as she could remember. All that was left to do was breathe; breathe and grit her teeth against the pain and the tears and the sickening sense that something had just been irrevocably, totally, and completely broken.

# Chapter Ten

Paige spent the night tossing and turning-and sometimes crying-in the den. She briefly considered dragging her pillow and blanket up the stairs to her room, but by the time she finally rolled off the coach to make good on the plan, the sun was practically up. She sighed at the delicate pink rays that streaked across the mirrored finish on the wood floor. There would be no point in going to bed now.

It was Thursday, the day Erik's parents were supposed to come for dinner. Well, it was pretty clear those plans were in the toilet now. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and rubbed gently as she made coffee, leaning one hip against the counter while she waited for the brewer to hiss and spit out the last few drops of the precious liquid.

When the phone rang a few minutes later, she sprinted into the hallway to grab the cordless desk phone.

"Hello?"

"Paige, it's Guy."

"Oh."

"I'm happy to hear from you, too."

"Sorry," She apologized without further explanation. "What's up?"

"The department will probably be in touch later today or tomorrow, but I wanted to give you a heads up-we've got a suspect in custody."

"Oh?"

"We think he's the one who planted the shark in your pool."

"Oh! Are you sure?" She gripped the phone tighter.

"He hasn't given us a full confession exactly, but he's admitted to being an old enemy of Denmari's and made reference to the shark as a hypothetical situation. We're fairly certain we've got our perp."

"I see." She sighed, nerves tightening in her stomach at the thought of random mobsters coming after her for no apparent reason. "Hey wait," Her eyes lit for a split second as an idea struck. "Now I get it-swim with the fishes."

"What?"

"The shark. Maybe it was supposed to be more of a symbolic threat. You know, the old mob saying-"

"Swim with the fishes." Guy agreed. "Well that puts a new spin on things, doesn't it?"

"But it doesn't really make things better."

"Then this should make you feel safer. You shouldn't have any more trouble. He was surprised to hear of Denmari's passing."

"So he's not after me?" Her spirits lifted.

"Nope, at least he says he's not."

"Oh, good."

"Yeah, it's great news." He agreed. "Well, I've got to get going, but..."

"Okay, well thanks for letting me know, Guy."

"Yeah. Take care, okay?"

"You too, bye." She murmured, disconnecting without making any mention of Hailey or the brief conversation she'd had with her the previous day. Maybe Hailey hadn't even mentioned it to him. Not that it mattered either way.

She chugged the remainder of her coffee and headed into the kitchen to start cleaning. Later, she promised herself, she would start packing and making preparations to return to New York, though the idea didn't hold the same appeal that it did before.

So she held off on the packing, instead she spent the morning and much of the afternoon on the second floor of the house, windows open and the radio blaring as she went from room to room, giving each her personal attention until they all shined.

A radio announcer started talking about five o'clock traffic and Paige remembered that it was almost time to eat dinner. She wasn't very hungry, but the chili she'd started hours earlier would be done by now and she needed to at least head downstairs and turn off the stove.

The doorbell sounded when she was only halfway down the stairs and she caught a glimpse of a familiar tall form through the frosted glass. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. What was he doing here? She hurried to the door.

"Erik what-oh," She paused, looking behind him. "Hi Gene, hi Erin." She nodded politely before opening the door to admit Erik and his parents.

"Come in, make yourself comfortable." She smiled at his parents and gestured toward the dining room before grabbing Erik's arm and pulling him down the hall and into the study.

"I can't believe you had the nerve to show up here for dinner-and bring your parents with, no less!"

"I had no choice." His eyes dared her to argue.

"No choice? Are you kidding me?"

"I haven't told them yet."

"So? You could have said I was sick. Or busy-anything. I don't believe your nerve." She chastised.

"You can believe what you want to, I really don't give a damn, Paige." His hand cut a harsh swatch through the air that fairly crackled between them. He remained facing her, his vivid gaze never leaving her face.

"Good," She sneered, "Because I quit giving a damn about you a long time ago."

"Liar." He challenged.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He said roughly.

"Fine." She bit out when he didn't speak again. "But I'll be damned if I understand why I have to act as though I like you."

"Don't argue." He nudged her in the direction of the kitchen. "Just go. Let's get this over with."

"Very well then," She extended her hand, "After you." His damnable self-assurance was making her nervous. She would not relax her guard until she saw him and his parents safely out of her house, with a locked door between her and them.

"Gene, Erin, what a surprise." Paige's voice fell flat as she followed Erik's broad form into the formal dining room.

"Sit down." Erik nudged her shoulder roughly.

She bit back a retort; instead taking her seat with as much grace as she could muster. Reminding herself that it wasn't Erik's parents fault that he was such a rotten asshole helped somewhat.

"Is this a bad time?" Erik's mother frowned, her brow furrowing in her smooth, slightly lined face. Her sky blue eyes, Erik's eyes, radiated concern and Paige felt her anger begin to thaw.

"No, of course not," She assured the attractive couple in a smooth tone. "It's been such a busy day that I'm running a little behind. If you'll give me five minutes, I'll have the table set. I hope chili is okay."

"Chili will be fine, dear." Erin waved away the remnants of Paige's concern and reclaimed the high back next to her husband at the dark mahogany dining table, politely refraining from giving note to Paige's pale, drawn look, or to the faint shadows under her eyes.

"I'll help you." Erik was moving beside her in an instant, ignoring the dirty look she threw at him and walking too close behind her all the way to the oversize kitchen.

She would have argued with him, told him she didn't need help-and probably thrown in a snide remark or two, but she didn't want to alarm her unexpected dinner guests. Erik's parents were basically good people, though his father could be a little on the stern side, and she genuinely liked them both. Once they cleared the kitchen doorway, though, all bets were off. She rounded on him, all the pent up frustration and anger shooting to the surface, and tossed his arm off of her elbow.

"I didn't ask for your help and I don't need it." She hissed.

"Tough shit."

"I mean it, Erik, I don't need this aggravation. Go back to the dining room and entertain your parents while I whip up dinner for four." His parents were luckier than they knew that she had opted to make a pot of chili on this particular evening. Anything in a pot had to be able to feed an army, didn't it? Was there even such a thing as a small pot of chili? Paige didn't think so.

"I told you before, I want to get this evening over with, and the sooner the better. Just let me help you with the damn food."

"Finally something we agree on." She muttered, moving to the stove and carefully lifting the stainless steel lid from the matching pot. She angled slightly away for a moment, holding the lid stiffly at an angle as plumes of steam rose off the chili and dispersed into the air, carrying with it the scent of heaven. "Here." She thrust a stack of bowls at him.

"Smells good." Erik nodded his approval and did his part to help by holding the large soup bowls out for her to fill.

"My chili is always good." Her chin came up a notch, and she purposely avoided glancing in Erik's direction as she filled a tray with the now full dishes.

"I didn't say that it wasn't."

"Did I say you did?"

"Look," He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. But can we at least pretend that everything is normal?"

And that was probably the core of the issue, she reflected, eyeing him over kitchen island; he was good at pretending. Too good. "Fine."

"Good. Thank you."

Yeah."

"So, what else?" He asked, turning back to the food.

"Crackers, salt, and pepper go on that tray over there." She sighed, pointing to one of several shelves that lined the wall near the hanging racks.

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Nope. You carry the condiments, I'll get the food."

"No, switch me." He argued. "I'll take the food and you carry the crackers."

"Why? I've already got the food." She tossed over her shoulder without pausing.

"Paige, get back here. That's heavy."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." She huffed, entering the dining room full steam ahead. Her expression eased somewhat when she noticed the way Erik's parents drew back a little.

"Is everything okay?" Erin bit her lip and craned her neck to view her son standing behind a very pissed off looking Paige.

"Fine." Paige bared her teeth in a smile.

"Great." Erik gave Paige a wide berth and slammed the tray full of crackers and spices onto the table, causing a few stray wafers to flip off out of the stainless bowl and skitter across the high polished table.

"Well, really, Erik." His father complained, both hands coming up to grip the table in front of him.

"Dinner is served." Paige announced with a scowl, plunking her own tray down and brushing at the mess of crumbs Erik had made before turning to pass out the individual bowls to her guests. "This table is gorgeous, but anything with this much sheen to it makes the littlest mess appear that much worse, don't you think?" She rattled on in a last ditch attempt at being a good hostess.

"Are you absolutely certain this is a good time?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Paige took her own seat and smiled across the table at Erik's mother, barely noticing the way the woman's eyes widened as Paige scooted her chair in closer to the table, wood scraping ominously on wood.

"It's just that, we are getting the feeling that you and my son are not getting along so well this evening. If there's something you both want to talk about..." She trailed off, looking back and forth between her son and the girl whom she'd known for almost twenty years.

"Now, Erin, I'm sure the kids don't want the two of us intruding on their personal business." Gene hurried to fill the silence before either his son or Paige could speak, desperate as usual to avoid an emotional scene.

He could have rested assured; because Paige had no intention of being so rude as to discuss her and Erik's personal conflicts and shortcomings over the dinner table with his parents, no less. Erik, on the other hand, obviously felt no such scruples. A feral light came into his eyes as he met Paige's stare across the table. Her own eyes narrowed in a silent warning that went ignored and unheeded when, a moment later, when Erik opened his mouth to speak.

"Thank you, mother, but I don't think you can help with this particular problem."

"Oh, well..." The older woman stammered, her spoon pausing halfway to her mouth, "I hate to see the two of you fighting. You've been such good friends all of these years."

Paige's eyes slid away at that statement.

"Yes, well, if you must know the truth, Paige and I have recently decided to part ways. So there you have it," Erik shrugged and downed a spoonful of chili with apparent relish, "This dinner will probably be the last time we see each other. More iced tea?" He inquired with a polite but strained smile.

"Oh..."

"Well." Gene cleared his throat.

"Erik, I really don't think your parents are interested in hearing about our problems." Paige said, coming to the older couple's rescue, much to Gene's visible relief. "And even if they are," She continued with a glance toward Erin, "I highly doubt that this is the time or the place to air our dirty laundry."

"This is damn fine chili, Paige." Gene cleared his throat before making a show of taking a bite and nodding his head. "You're a wonderful cook."

"Yes, Paige is good at a great many number of things. A regular jack of all trades." Erik's snidely spoken remark drew all eyes his way once again.

"Erik." Gene said in warning.

The table fell silent once again, much to Paige's relief, and probably Erin's as well, she thought with a covert glance at the woman. Erik's mother was a sweet, kind hearted woman but she had been one hundred percent correct in her earlier assessment. She really didn't want to know the ugly, gory details of the war that raged on between Erik and herself.

Paige smothered a sigh and lifted her water glass to her lips with a hand that shook only a little. Deep down, though she didn't readily admit it now, she still loathed conflict. Some people loved a good fight, but she wasn't one of them. Never had been and never would be, she reflected, wincing at the abnormally loud clink her glass made when she set it back down on the table a moment later.

Her gaze slid briefly to Erik's half hunched over form, his head bowed over his food. That didn't mean she would run from it anymore, she thought, eyes narrowing. Erik had wronged her in a big way and if he thought she was being unreasonable in her anger, well, that was just too damn bad.

She was still reeling from his betrayal...among other things. The way she figured it, she could probably make a mile long list of the things that had her reeling as of late. Topping the list would be Erik's bombshell that he had lied about being gay. Their night of debauchery would be a close second, if not an all-out tie for the number one spot.

She kept remembering things she wished she could physically blot from her mind, like how his chest had felt hot and hard and taut against her lips. Her eyes left his form for another brief moment as the memory of how she had clung to him, took center stage in her mind. To her abject humiliation, that night played through her mind like an x rated slide show, each erotic image racier than the one before it. The way she had felt his shirt molded to his body, the heat that had ensued once he took it off...the blindfold...She drew a deep breath and told herself to stop.

Rehashing the details of their lovemaking would serve no real purpose, but it seemed she could do nothing about it. It was impossible not to remember how he felt inside her, how deliciously bad she'd felt when he had lifted her against the wall in this house, as if he were so out of his mind with wanting her, he couldn't wait to take her to a bedroom-only his surefootedness kept them from toppling to the floor in a heap because from that moment on she had been out of her mind and along for the ride.

It was jarring to reconcile the most incredible night of her life with the betrayal Erik had slammed her with less than twenty-four hours later. Paige's mouth formed a startled oval when she realized Erik was no longer hunched over the table, but staring right back at her. Worse, she could tell by the alertness, the watchfulness in his expression that he had a good idea of the direction her thoughts had taken.

"Excuse us."

The words were forced from a jaw that looked to be clenched tight enough to cut granite, but Paige refused to feel intimidated. "Yes, excuse us, please." She repeated the terse instruction to his shocked parents and stomped out of the dining hall hot on Erik's heels. "It'll be a cold day in hell when you scare me, so don't even try it."

"You're scary enough for the both of us." He snorted, leading the way into the study at the far end of the house and slamming the door behind them.

"Go to hell." She fired back, whirling to move past him in order to open the door and slam it herself. That would show him, she fumed. No one pushed Paige Frey around-no one. Erik of all people should have been well versed in that fact by now.

"Oh grow up." His eyes raked over her in a single scathing glance.

"It's my damned door; I'll slam it whenever I feel like it."

"I can't believe you. You're unreal, you know that? I ask you to do one simple thing and you act like a spoiled child. Would it have killed you to keep my parents out of this?"

"Oh?" The hand that wasn't gripping the doorknob fluttered to her chest. "Help me out here, Mr. Honesty-"

"Don't start with me-"

"No, really, tell me, Erik, just tell me what right you have to criticize. So they've seen me in a bad mood, oooh big deal." Paige flung her arms out dramatically. "You let them think you're a homosexual for five years. I don't think you ought to throw stones."

A gasp from the other side of the door had them both spinning around, Paige shocked and Erik grim.

"Oh, now you've done it." She clucked.

"Just open it." He sighed, though he reached around her unmoving form a second later, opening the door and bravely facing both of his parents.

"You heard that, huh." Erik sighed. It was impossible to miss the gray pallor of hismother's face. Gene was the first one to break the silence.

"You're not gay?" He shouted with a barely restrained exuberance that had Paige biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"No."

"Son, what on Earth is going on here? Did you...ah, change back?" Gene's enthusiasm dimmed only slightly in the face of confusion.

"Change back?" Erik frowned. "I don't think that's possible." He considered.

"Well, hell, boy you would know better than me."

"Yeah, Erik." Paige was unable to resist the urge to goad him.

"I think you've done enough." He said, turning to favor her with a scowl.

"I haven't done anything. You, on the other hand, have a guilty conscience."

"Well if you-"

"He's saying he's never been a homosexual." Erin broke in softly.

"But-" Gene's brows snapped together.

"Mom's right, Dad. I'm not gay and I never have been."

"Not even a little?" Gene scratched his head and regarded his son with alternating relief and bewilderment.

"How can you be 'a little gay'?" Erik huffed, plowing a hand through his hair. "Where are you getting this stuff?"

"I just don't understand." Gene grumbled.

"I lied. To you and Mom, to Paige, and everyone else. That's what happened. I've never been with a man. I've never thought about being with a man. And in case you're both wondering why Paige is so damn angry at me, it's because last night I made love to her and let her think she was sleeping with another man."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Paige exploded, mortified at his bold outburst.

"So, there you have it everyone," He continued ruthlessly. "I'm sorry I'm such a bastard, okay?"

"Erik," Paige ran to catch up to him. "Wait." She stopped him at the doorway with a hand on his arm. The look in his eyes reminded her of a wounded, caged animal and the pain she saw there clenched on her heart like a fist. "Hey..." She whispered, looking up at him and really seeing him for what felt like the first time in a long while."Don't go, okay?"

He remained silent but allowed her to turn him back to the room, back to his stunned family.

Paige wet her lips and took a deep breath. "Gene, Erin, I'm sorry you had to find out about...well," She briefly caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "All of this, I guess, this way. But please don't think badly of your son. He's not crazy, or even a liar." She was conscious of Erik standing beside her, of his intense gaze suddenly fixed on her. "I know that he lied, but...but he did it for me. My step-father was not a nice man-you probably knew that already," She said, nervously, at Erin's sympathetic nod. "A lot of people knew it, but what wasn't such common knowledge back then is that he was a member of the Italian mafia. He tried to isolate me and Erik wouldn't let him. So, instead of putting his own life in danger, or leaving me alone, he pretended to be gay in order to escape my step-father-and his 'associates'-notice. No one cared if a homosexual boy was always hanging around me. I understand that now. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to do, but life's forced us to make some hard choices and...he did that for me." She paused and turned to Erik with a brilliant sheen of moisture blurring her vision. "Erik I'm sorry. For not wanting to forgive you...for not truly seeing you until it was almost too late. I-" Her voice broke and the next thing she knew he had taken the half a step to bring them together. With his arms wrapped around her and the warmth of his throat at her lips, she whispered the words that had been on the tip of her tongue for years. "I love you."

"Say it again." He demanded, pulling back to look down into her eyes.

"I love you, Erik. You've been with me all along, right in front of me all this time..."

"I wanted to tell you so many times..."

"Do you remember the night you told me, before we went to Alaska-you had come to my rescue yet again," She glanced up at him with shining eyes, "I thought you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend."

"I was going to, and then..."

"I know," She pressed one finger to his lips. "And I know it doesn't matter anymore but I wanted to tell you, you have to know...I would have said yes. That was the night that I started to realize how just how much you mean to me."

"Paige, it's not too late for us." His voice was hoarse with emotion, "It never would have been. I think I would have waited two lifetimes for you. I love you so much..." He whispered against her mouth. "Baby you're it for me."

"And you for me." She whispered back. And for the first time in years, they were finally home.

The End

Coming Soon from Riley Sinclair

Carolina Blue

# Prologue

She forgot her underwear again; that's right Brittany eat your heart out, there's a new diva in town. Could she be called a habitual panty offender? Sure, absolutely and on any other day she would have chalked it up to feeling sexy, embracing the bygone era of the sixties, having a hot date, or just a plain old forgetful nature. Today, however, was not a normal day. Sure it looked like your average Tuesday autumn morning, but the sweet rays of sunshine that her four inch heels were chasing across the pavement were woefully deceptive because on this particular Tuesday Kandi was headed to her very first court appearance-sans panties.

Only Kandi knew the heat that she was sure had already stained her cheeks a vivid scarlet had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with impending public humiliation. Unless of course, she were to accidentally drop her purse and bend over and then everyone on Bleeker Street would know exactly why she was blushing like the school girl she was not.

She passed the time chastising herself all the way down the widely crowded street, trying to ignore the looks from passerby, people who were dressed for success in their best blazers and suits and ties. This was mostly because becoming indignant would have required standing up straight, in all of her five foot four inch semi- nude glory and that was a bad, bad idea at the moment.

It was impossible not to wonder about the judge she was about to face. The name on the papers delivered by the county sheriff read 'Lovall'-Judge Toni Lovall. Kandi made a face as she did an awkward step-hop up the polished concrete stairs of the courthouse, all the while praying that no one was directly below her on the staircase. Toni sounded like a woman's name, and that basically meant she was in for it. Kandi could see it now-'her honor' was probably some Judge Judy look alike with the temperament of a rattlesnake. Was it too late to run? Probably, Kandi admitted in defeat when she spotted the cop seated at the front desk in the middle of the lobby.

"Courtroom number four?" She asked with as much dignity as she could summon.

"Down the hall." He pointed to the fork in the layout to his left.

Kandi cringed when his facial expression went from indifferent to incredulous. He probably thought she had been busted on charges of prostitution, she thought a little desperately. I'm not like that! She wanted to scream. Except...maybe that wasn't technically true, a small quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered. So she hung her head and trudged down the hallway, each click of her heels taking her closer to courtroom number four and echoing her own impending doom. Right then, she wished for a lot of things-her mother, time...for what? To do things differently? To change her ways? Kandi paused in front of the heavy door with the number '4' stenciled in faded gold across the glass.

She was dreaming impossible dreams again. Her mother was dead, her father was God only knew where, and it was too late for a change of heart. She was who she was-Kandi Mason, former socialite, current fallen angel of the Mason family and a bad girl all the way. She was also screwed-Toni Lovall didn't look a thing like Judge Judy-she looked worse.

# Chapter One

The car wouldn't start. Again. Kendra sighed, resting her forehead on the hot steering wheel and wished she had the energy to scream. This made twice in three months that her ancient Buick refused to start. Through the frustration, she felt a small measure of gratitude. At least she was in her own driveway this time instead of being stranded on the Dan Ryan Expressway; she didn't think her fragile nerves could have taken the harrowing experience twice in one lifetime.

"Monica? It's Kendra. Listen, I'm-"

"Where are you? Your shift started twenty-two minutes ago."

Kendra gripped the cell phone tighter and raised her eyes to the Heavens, asking for a miracle. Monica Ceros was not a woman to tolerate tardiness from her staff. Kendra wasn't surprised in the least that Monica was counting the minutes; Monica was probably recording her latest transgression down to the second.

"I am so sorry, but my car won't start. If you'll just give me a little time, maybe I can find a ride."

"Kendra, you know that I like you."

Since when? Kendra stared at the phone.

"Still, this is your fifth time being late, not to mention the mistakes you've been making as of late."

"Is delivering a bowl of soup to the wrong table really so bad?" She cajoled, trying to make light of the situation.

"It is when the customer happens to be allergic to shell fish." Monica was not amused.

"I'm fired, aren't I?"

"You can pick up your final check on Thursday."

***

The phone rang an hour later, jarring Kendra from her dismal thoughts. She sprinted for the phone before it could disturb Angel.

"Yes, hello?" She was breathless.

"Kendra Argil?"

"Yes. What can I do for you?" She warily asked.

"My name is Todd Litton. I'm a private attorney in Dillon, South Carolina."

"Who's suing me now?" She sighed, dropping into a scarred kitchen chair. The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat.

"No, you misunderstand me, Miss. Argil. I represent Alana Mason's estate."

"Aunt Alana? Estate...then she's-dead?"

"Yes, I'm extremely sorry to break the news to you in this way; I assumed you were aware of her passing."

"No, I didn't know. When did she...pass? What happened?"

"Your Aunt Alana had a heart attack on Tuesday of last week."

"Eight days ago. Her funeral was over the weekend, then?" Kendra felt her own heart sink.

"The funeral was held at Sheffield's on Saturday." Todd confirmed.

"I see. Well thank you for calling."

"That's not all, Kendra." He rushed before she could hang up. "Your aunt left you part of her estate."

"Excuse me?" She hadn't spoken to her aunt in...she tried to do a fast calculation and came up frowning, half ashamed to admit that her math was a little fuzzy on the subject. Six years? Seven? A very long time anyway.

"The house in Lake View, one boat, and a sizeable amount of liquid assets all pass to you. You should receive a certified letter shortly but I wanted to get you on the phone as well. When can you make it in to my office to sign some papers and go over a few things? Unless you would rather handle everything by notary and fax?"

"She left everything to me?" Kendra exhaled, thoroughly in shock.

"Not everything, but the bulk of her estate passes to you, yes." The man on the other end of the phone reiterated.

Kendra swallowed reflexively, winding and unwinding her fingers around the telephone cord and trying to wrap her mind around one person possessing so much, despite having no clue as to the dollar amount the old woman had bequeathed to her. A house and a boat on top of whatever cash had been left; Kendra's numb brain processed that information, the knowledge that there had been even more only adding to her dazed state. "I'm in Chicago, so I'll need a week at least." She finally told her aunts lawyer, trying forcibly to pull herself together.

"Good then. How does next Friday work for you?"

"Sure. What time do you want to meet?"

"Anytime would be fine. Call me when you get into town and we can meet at your convenience."

Kendra took down the numbers the attorney dictated and disconnected the call. Aunt Alana was dead. She was going back to South Carolina. She was rich.

A cursory glance around the small space she rented confirmed the one fact that she was well aware of-there wasn't much to pack. Really all she had to do was toss Angel in the car and go. But she hadn't been lying when she'd told Mr. Litton that next Friday was about the first time they could meet-she had exactly seventy-two cents in her checking account until Monica issued her final paycheck.

"If I had a car, we could leave in the morning or even tonight, if we wanted to." Kendra sighed. "Make that, if I had a car that actually works." She amended, shooting Angel a wry glance. The fat orange cat was curled up in his usual corner, between the fireplace that didn't work any better than the Buick and the small secondhand television that Kendra was pretty sure used to be color. She was surprised to see the animal's eyes wide open and focused on her; she must have disturbed her after all.

"Well did you hear that Angel? Elena is gone. And...and we're rich." She repeated again. The words still felt cold and alien in her mouth. "I should have visited her more..."

Angel's left ear pricked at the guiltily whispered admission.

"Yeah," Kendra sighed, rising to her feet. "That's life, right?"
