I hadn’t talked to my mother since the day I’d woken up in the hospital and she’d been sitting in my room, waiting for me. The scene was still so vivid in my mind.

The first words out of her mouth had been, “What did you do?”

She’d refused to believe that I hadn’t goaded Jay into almost killing me. When I told her that I’d finally had the courage to ask him for a divorce, she’d raised her hand to slap me, but my face was covered by bandages.

“All you had to do was make the boy happy, Yve,” she’d said. “And you couldn’t even manage to do that.”

“But, Mama, he—”

“I don’t care what he does, you’re his wife. You’re screwing up the best thing that ever happened to you. And if this ruins my relationship with his daddy, I swear to the Lord above, you’re dead to me.”

Tears had streaked down my face, soaking the bandages. My voice had shaken when I’d ordered her to get out, because she was already dead to me.

After Jay had left me broken in our house, he’d gone out that night and picked up Valentina at a bar. I could almost picture him putting on the Southern-boy charm I knew he still possessed. She’d been on the rebound, looking for a one-night stand, and he’d pocketed his wedding band. According to her, when she’d gotten into his car, he’d gone into a rage, screaming at her and calling her my name. And then he’d driven like crazy so she thought they’d crash. When he’d finally pulled off on a long, deserted road, he’d dragged her into the backseat, raped her, then tossed her and her purse out of the car. She’d called for help and ended up in a hospital room just down the hall from me.

I hated that my actions had affected Valentina, but she’d forgiven me. That didn’t mean I’d forgiven myself, though.

“Yve, are you listening to me?”

I snapped out of my trip down the memory lane from hell, and met Ginny’s eyes. “What?”

Fear came off Ginny in waves. “You’ve got to leave town, dear. I’m afraid he’s going to come after you. My offer is still good. All you need to do is pick a city. You can leave tonight. I’ll arrange to have your belongings packed and shipped. He’ll never find you.”

I laid a hand on her shoulder. “What do you know?”

“Nothing, and it scares the living hell out of me. I don’t trust him, and I don’t trust my son.”

I squared my shoulders and tried not to upset her with my words. “I’m not leaving. This is my home. This is my city just as much as it’s his. I didn’t let him run me out of it before, and I won’t let him now.” Ice coated the steel reinforcing my spine as I added, “Whatever he’s gonna do, he’s gonna do. I won’t change my life just because I can’t predict what that might be.” Even as I said the words, the possibilities and risks flipped through my brain, along with the potential for this to be a downright stupid decision.

“Yve,” she said. “Please. Do it for me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to do this for me. This is my life. I’m done letting him rule it.”

She shook her head. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Then so be it.”

Ginny nodded, and her arthritic hand shook as it lifted to my face. “You’re a good girl, Yve. I don’t want anything else bad to happen to you. I just wish you’d let me protect you.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming to let me know, but I’m going to have to protect myself.”

She pulled me in for a hug. “Be safe, my dear.”

“And if you learn anything at all, please tell me.”

She stepped back and released me. “You have my word. Good-bye, Yve.”

I watched as she made her way back to her BMW. Once she’d driven off, I turned back to my apartment and stared up at it with dread. My keys still hung in the lock, and I really, really didn’t want to go in there and see whatever might have been moved or missing.

Sometimes being self-sufficient just plain sucked. In that moment, I wished I had someone I could lean on. What would that even be like?

If I’d had a father, would this be a time that he’d come and check under the metaphorical bed for monsters? If I’d ever figured out how to date and have a normal relationship, maybe I would’ve had someone I could call to go in first and check things out.

But no. I just had me. And Yve counted on Yve.

Sure, I had friends. I could call Elle and she’d send Lord. Or I could call my former employee and good friend, Charlie, and she’d send her fiancé, Simon. Even Con would come if I called him. But they all had their own lives, their own issues. They didn’t need little old me pulling a Chicken Little when I didn’t even know if Jay had been in my place. Was it likely? Sure as shit, yes. Who else would have done it?

My stomach cramped as I stared up at my apartment door.

I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it.

I sat down on the bench and dropped my head into my hands. Maybe a little cry would do me good. No one would ever have to know.

CLANDESTINE MEETINGS WITH POLITICIANS WERE even worse than regular meetings with politicians. Because clandestine meetings were all cloak and dagger and required a secret password at the door of some club that men like me—men who weren’t born with the keys to this city—didn’t otherwise know existed.

The doorman shut the heavy leather padded door behind me and I stepped inside the dimly lit club. A blonde on ice-pick stilettos nodded to me.

“Welcome, Mr. Titan. Right this way, sir.”

Apparently while I hadn’t known about this club, they’d known about me. I followed her, my gaze dropping to her ass out of habit, but not with interest. Absently I noted the short black skirt and seam up the back of her stockings, but nothing in me was moved by her top-notch body. No, I seemed to have developed a fixation on a sassy, curvy woman who would rather run from me than spend a moment in my company. All claws and teeth—and sexy as hell. It was undeniable proof that I was a masochist.

The blonde slowed in front of a closed door but didn’t reach for the handle. “They’re inside, sir.”

Cloak and dagger, indeed.

I pulled it open and found four Louisiana state senators seated inside, puffing on cigars and looking like the Southern politicians they were.