Laying in Adam's plush bed, Abby sighed and fought her droopy eyelids, but JC's constant low lullaby purring at her side wasn't helping. The gigantic feline decided to forgive her earlier indiscretion and jumped back up on the bed for round two after she hung up with a still squealing Jo Jo.

Abby rolled her eyes in the darkness and absently stroked the cat's soft fur. His over reaction to the news of her being basically kidnapped by the billionaire bad boy was epic and still ringing in her ears. There had been no doubt in her mind Jo Jo would know who she was talking about when she said the name. Keeping up with the socialites of New York and anyone famous was an obsession with him which bordered on the need for a twelve step program.

As it was, Abby knew more about the Kardashians then she knew about American history and really, how sad was that? Not to mention the name of that dreadful family was starting to make her twitch and convulse, but Jo Jo made it his personal mission to educate her despite her attempts to run away.

She laughed softly and rolled over looking out the floor to ceiling windows, disturbing JC who grumpily rearranged himself and started kneading her back. Leave it to Adam Steele to own a cat who could give back massages. Thankfully, he must be declawed, otherwise the enthusiasm in which he was working it back there would have left her in shreds.

Such a beautiful view, she thought yawning. It was easy to imagine yourself being a princess in a room such as this. A princess in a floating castle up in the clouds with a charming prince at her side. Well, she may not have the whole fantasy, but the cat was a nice touch. Abby smiled. Jo Jo told her on the phone this was her fairy Godmother moment and she would be an idiot if she didn't take this opportunity to find her happily ever after.

Closing her heavy eyes, Abby snorted. Some people don't get a happy ending and she was one of those unlucky ones. Every time she came close, there was someone there to destroy it and he was never going to stop. A frown marred her face, as she slid into oblivion.

Abby opened the sliding door, her body tensed as the soft click of the release mechanism gave way. When no alarm sounded, she leaned her forehead against the glass and relaxed, blowing out a breath of relief. He hadn't noticed she'd disabled the alarm that morning.

Easing the door open on its freshly greased track, she slipped into the darkened kitchen. Wiping the sliders with vegetable oil had been a stroke of genius and she'd have to remember to do it periodically to keep it moving so smoothly.

Closing the door, she cringed at the slight snick. She stood as still as a statue, her ears straining for any sign she'd been busted. When only the soft hum of the refrigerator met her ears, she relaxed once more.

Slipping off her shoes and socks, she tiptoed across the cool tile of the kitchen carrying them close to her chest. Her eyes roving every shadow, landed on the line up of empty bottles across the kitchen island. I regiment of dead soldiers standing as a testament of her stepfather's alcoholism.

Surely he must have blacked out after drinking all that, Abby thought as she continued sneaking her way out of the kitchen. Pausing at the entryway to the living room, she peeked in. Fear making her heart skip and stutter in her chest. She would make a lousy cat burglar. Appeased when she saw nothing, she continued on her way through the house until she was standing at the top of the stairs, making sure to avoid the squeaky ones.

She made it. Turning, Abby's whole body sagged against the stair bannister when she saw her stepdad's bedroom door was closed.

"You're late."

Abby yelped and jumped at the sound of his deceptively quiet voice. Fear gripped her hard as she turned. Leaning against her own bedroom door stood her stepfather. His face was masked in the shadows, but the star on his chest caught a glimmer of moonlight drifting in from the round window at the end of the hall.

"I'm...sorry," she stuttered, trying to get a feel of how drunk he might be or how angry.

"Where were you?" He remained in the shadow, his face impossible to read and his voice giving nothing away.

"I was at the library...," she gulped. "I h...have and assignment due tomorrow for history and I needed to use the c...computers."

"Is there something wrong with the computer here?" he asked calmly. Too calmly.

Abby bristled. "You weren't home to ask." He had confiscated her laptop and cell phone long ago and the only computer available in the house was in his den, protected by a passcode only he knew.

"I'm home now." He pushed off from her door and walked towards her.

He was in full police attire. The crisp blue uniform magnifying the menacing power and authority he had over her life since the loss of her mother. His baton slapping his thigh as he walked, brought her attention to the fact he was fully armed. Judging by his breath when he reached her, he was fully armed and drunk.

Abby struggled with the urge to step back. Shakily she straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin up a degree. If she showed fear, he would see it as guilt and she had done nothing wrong. Her grades were suffering these last few months and with them her chances of escape. She would do whatever necessary to gain a scholarship to get out of here, even if that meant facing his wrath.

"I didn't know what time you'd be home, sir." Her voice was stronger than she felt. Please go to bed...please, she mentally begged.

He stood there watching her intently with his glazed and unfocused eyes. "I worry about you, Elizabeth." He reached out a trembling hand and Abby stepped back.

"Abby," she stammered.

"What?" He looked confused and grabbed the railing as he weaved unsteadily on his feet.

"You called me by my mother's name, I'm Abigail."

"I know who you are!" he roared, crashing towards her and knocking her up against the wall as he leaned heavily against her. His chest crushing the air out of hers. He jerked her shoes and socks out of her grasp and threw them across the hall, one of them knocking the vase off the table and sending it crashing to the floor. "You are Elizabeth!" he yelled, spraying a shower of spittle. Suddenly, his face softened and he reached a shaking hand and placed it gently on her cheek, making her wince. "You are my sweet, sweet...Elizabeth."

"NO!" Abby jerked her head out of his touch. "I'm Abby! Abby!" she shouted trying to break through the alcohol possessing his mind.

"Abby is dead, my pet," he mumbled, closing his eyes briefly. "It's time you realized it."

Abby struggled hard, beating his shoulders with her fists to no avail. "No dammitt! I'm Abby!" she wailed, tears breaking free and coursing down her cheeks.

"Hush now," he slurred, pulling her closer into an immobilizing embrace. He roughly stroked her hair and continued to mumble unintelligible words.

Abby screamed.

"Trixie! Wake up, baby!" Adam's deep voice broke through the nightmare, his hands roughly shaking her awake.

She gasped and tried to struggle out of his hold, peddling her legs backwards, but getting nowhere. Leftover panic clawed at her throat as she feverishly tried to figure out where she was.

"Shhh...you're okay. You're safe, nobody is going to hurt you. I swear it." Adam spoke low and calmly to her. His voice a lifeline slowly pulling her back to reality as his touch gentled her combative scramble.

Unfortunately, the gentleness was also her undoing. It pushed her over the precipice of the edge and she broke, collapsing on a hard sob as hot tears burned her eyes, rolling uncontrollably down her face. Her body trembled from the ferocity of her ragged weeping.

"Hey," he coaxed quietly as the bed dipped from his weight. "It's okay. I've got you, baby. I've got you." He enfolded her into his strong arms and rocked her gently back and forth.

Abby stiffened briefly, not wanting him to see her meltdown, but the temptation was far too great for her tired soul and she buckled against him, wrapping her arms around his firm waist. Burying her nose into his neck, she breathed him in, his scent filling her up as his hair teased her nose.

He felt so solid beneath her cheek, so wonderfully capable and powerful when she felt as if she was falling apart. As if he could hold all that threatened her at bay and crush it in the palm of his hand. She cried out her pain, sobbed her fear and allowed all her anger to leach out onto his great shoulders. He took everything she gave him and he never wavered, keeping her close all the way through to the bitter end.

Hiccupping loudly, she broke free of Adam's embrace, but he only allowed her to pull back a little and she smiled at his reluctance. She didn't want him to let go either, not yet anyway. She feared if he did, she would fade away into nothingness. She wiped at her eyes, trying to mop up some of the mess, when she felt something soft against her face.

Adam smiled down, his amber eyes glowing tender in the side light as he cleaned up her tears with one of his ever handy handkerchiefs.

"Are you alright?" he quietly asked, dabbing her face dry.

Not trusting her voice in fear the damn might break again, Abby simply nodded as she memorized every inch of his face. The way he looked right at this moment. Particularly, the way he was looking at her with reverence when she deserved disgust for blubbering all over him. She winced at the big blotch of wetness marking the shoulder of his perfect dark, crisp shirt.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, grabbing the hanky from his hand and trying to blot at the spot.

He grabbed her hand, stopping the futile attempts and pulled the cloth out of her hand. Slowly, never taking his gaze from hers, he dropped a warm kiss on her palm. The heat of his breath, making her shiver, before he took it and folded their fingers together and placed them in his lap.

"Don't be." He gave her a boyish crooked grin which made her heart thrash wildly.

"I'm sure you have better things to do than to get slobbered on by some hysterical female," she said quietly, ducking her hot face behind the shroud of her hair.

"It's fine, Trixie." Adam titled her chin up with the tip of his finger. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Her eyes popped open wide. "No!" she blurted causing him to frown at her briskness. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat. "No, it's nothing. Strange bed, strange room..." She shrugged her shoulders, trying to blow it off as no big deal.

"What was it about?"

She ignored the commanding tone of his voice and faked a little laugh. "Just the boogieman kind of dream," she said flippantly, desperate to make him believe.

His chest expanded as he inhaled, running his hand over his head several times, before he let out a deep exhale and nodded.

"Fine, have it your way," he muttered, standing up. "Lay back down, it's a few hours before daylight." He picked up the blanket and waited until she followed orders before covering her up. "Can I get you anything, some water perhaps?"

Again, not trusting her voice, she nodded.

He stalked across the room to the slightly opened door of the bathroom. Good Lord, those slacks must have been masterfully tailored, she thought drooling a little as she watched his magnificent butt.

She lowered her eyes before her face became sunburned from the heat of her blush. When she looked up again, he was standing before her holding out a cup.

"Everything okay?" he asked, raising a questioning brow.

"Yes...thank you," she stuttered, grabbing the cold drink and taking a long drink to cool the fire inside.

As she drank, she noticed a chair sitting at the end of the bed with a blanket carelessly tossed to the side.

"Is that where you were sleeping?"

Adam flushed, dropping his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes. The doctor thought it would be wise to keep an eye on you overnight..."he trailed off, a flicker of embarrassment passing over his face.

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say, so she finished off the rest of the water. It explained how he had heard her nightmare. Embarrassment of her own made the last of the water hard to swallow.

"Lay back down. It will be morning soon and you need your rest." He took the cup out of her hand, plumped up her pillows and proceeded to tuck her in.

Morning. That word reminded her soon she would be leaving him and for the first time this evening, the thought didn't please her. As anxious as she'd been to get away, now she regretted it. She couldn't stay...of course...she sighed, but now that their time was drawing to a close, she couldn't help but feel saddened by it.

Abby watched him switch off the bedside light and he turned to leave. Without thinking, she reached out and caught his hand.

"Lay with me?" she asked, her voice breaking a little. It was an absurd request, but she didn't want him to leave. For tonight, she needed him. Needed his strength.

He stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Gulping, Abby lost some of her bravery, but the desperation to be near him if only for a little while, gave her words strength.

"Lay down with me...just until I fall asleep, please." She gave his hand a little squeeze.

"What about your boyfriend?"

Abby almost stumbled by asking "what boyfriend?" before she caught herself. "It's above the covers," she said quietly. "I...just really need this...please." She hated the pleading unsteadiness of her voice, but the thought of sitting here in the dark for another couple of hours by herself when she knew this was the last time she would ever see him, was more unbearable.

For a few minutes, she thought he was going to deny her. Eventually, he gave a quick nod of his head and sat on the end of the bed to remove his shoes and socks. Abby held her breath wondering how much more he was going to take off, but breathed out her worry when he stood back up, walked over the other side of the bed and laid down.

Like a board, he laid on top of the covers with his ankles and arms crossed, as far away as humanly possible without falling off. Beings the bed was bigger than the apartment she lived in, it was some distance.

Stifling a giggle, Abby scooted backwards until her backside was flush against him.

"What are you doing?" Though it was dark and she couldn't see his face, she could tell from the short amount of time she'd spent with him his jaw was tense and he was speaking through gritted teeth.

She smiled. "I'm cold."

A deep sigh followed by a curse muttered under his breath reached her ears in the dark, widening her smile. Suddenly, the bed jolted and his arm shot out wrapping around her waist. A bit of finagling later due to her protesting ankle, Abby found herself spooned tight against his solid frame in the middle of the massive bed. This was heaven.

"Thank you," she whispered, snuggling deeper into the cage of his body.

He said nothing, only holding her tighter. A light brush of his lips against the top of her head was the last thing she remembered before drifting into a warm protected slumber.

The sun glaring through the windows wormed its way behind her eyelids, waking Abby. She blinked slowly, letting the light chase the last of her sleepiness. Wow! What a view to wake up to every morning, she thought taking in the gorgeous panorama grinning.

Speaking of gorgeous, she rolled over slightly. The smile disappeared from her lips when she realized she was alone. Sitting up, she looked around the cavernous room, but there was no sight of the prince...or...um...Mr. Steele, she corrected.

The chair was back in the corner and the room was spotless, if not barren looking. Craning her neck, she could see the door to the bathroom was wide open and empty. It seemed her security blanket had up and left. Turning to the bedside table, she noticed it devoid of anything too. Her cup, the cellphone...all of it gone as if it never existed. Even the cat had vanished.

A spark of anger flashed through Abby, but she quickly doused it. What was she expecting? Breakfast in bed...a note...she scoffed, throwing the covers off. Gently, she lowered herself down off the sleeping platform his majesty called a bed and carefully put a little weight on her ankle.

It was sore, but at least she could limp her way to the bathroom for a much needed chance to relieve herself. The bathroom was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. White marble, sinks big enough to take a bath in, a shower with...how many shower heads does a person need? She took it all in with wide eyed wonder as she hobbled to the toilet.

Just past the shower, tucked beneath another splendid window, was a tub. A Jacuzzi big enough to do laps in, set deep into the white marbled floor. It was a thing of beauty and she was tempted to strip down and take a swim.

Sighing, she ran her hand around the rim. Maybe one day. She shook her head to dispel the daydream. There wasn't going to be a someday, she reminded herself firmly. Putting blinders on to the rest, she dutifully did her business and then limped over to the sink.

After a quick search, she found a wash cloth, towel and his shower gel. Popping the lid open, she breathed in that glorious scent that was Adam. Tears sprouted in her eyes and she angrily wiped them away. This was how it needed to be, no sense to being sentimental about it. It's not like he was.

Briskly she undressed and did a quick sponge bath in the sink. The thought of putting on the same clothes made her shudder. Wrapping the towel around herself, she poked her head out of the bathroom, scanning the bedroom and finding it vacant. Shuffling into the room, she looked around until her eyes landed on her backpack resting against the corner. Thank heavens!

Running over to it, she clutched it to her chest. She had stupidly forgotten all about it last night. Never again, not anymore. Men. They were a distraction she couldn't afford to have. Setting her shoulders with determination, she unzipped and started digging through it.

Gathering up her things, she limped back into the bathroom to change. Once dressed, she felt more like herself, but she had another predicament. Shoes. There was no way in fucking hell, she was going to put those boots back on. Martyrdom was not her thing. Scooping them up, she rolled them and unceremoniously stuffed them into the backpack. Jo Jo was going to have a fit about the mishandling of his shoes, but he'd should consider himself lucky she was even bothering taking the damn things. If it was up to her, she would burn them in Steele's fireplace.

Straightening the bed and folding the blanket, she made sure she tidied up after herself and placed the envelope with a hastily scribbled note on the pillows.

"My name is Abigail Maddison Lane. You will never know me, but I will never forget you," she whispered to the pillows through the lump in her throat.

Stroking a wrinkle out of the comforter, she turned and made her way painfully slowly down the stairs. The living room was empty and bathed in light from the rows of windows. Walking up to them, it was if New York laid beneath her feet and she was floating above it all. Amazing...she felt like Rose on the bow of the Titanic.

Turning to take in everything she missed last night, her eyes landed on a clump of blonde sitting on the coffee table. Oh no! Vivian's wig. Scuffling over to it, Abby picked it up and tried to run her fingers through the tangled mess, but it was a lost cause. Unzipping one of the many side pockets, she stuffed it into the bag.

It was time to pay the piper, she thought as she made her way to the elevator, ignoring the temptation to look around. Getting in, she frowned at the complicated keyboard. Shit! That was a lot of buttons and Tony Stark she was not. Seeing a button she recognized, she pushed that and hoped for the best.

When the door opened, she was in a vast elegantly decorated lobby. Relief flooded through her and she almost did a happy dance, but the twanging pain in her ankle reminded her what a bad idea that would be. She still had to make it out into the street and this was not the kind of place she wanted to draw attention.

Not only was she dressed in yoga pants and her trusty sweatshirt, but she was also completely barefoot. I'm pretty sure that's a new one for this joint, she thought as she ducked her head and moved as quickly as her sore ankle would allow towards the revolving doors.

"Ahem...Can I help you ma'am?" A nasally voice approached her from behind.

"Um, no thank you...I was just leaving." Abby smiled and continued forward.

"And you are?" The man appeared in front of her dressed in a fine grey suit and a blazing pink tie. He looked her up and down, derision clear on his snobby face.

"Nobody," Abby answered as she dodged around him, pushed the door open and escaped out into the obscurity of New York.