The long drive back to Boston was overall quiet. Joey rarely said anything, and when he did, I rarely responded. It was downright awkward.

I hadn't been able to get his apology off my mind. He seemed to really regret the way he'd chosen to help me. Sure, there were probably several better options than the route we'd taken, but he'd kept me protected, for the most part, and I thought that made it okay. Well, okay enough. I definitely didn't feel like a princess saved by a knight in shining armor, but I felt safe. Or at least I did until we crossed the Massachusetts state line.

Anxiety arose inside my body. My hands started to shake and though it was warm in the car, a chill crept up my spine. I began to realize just how wrong I'd been about wanting to go home. I no longer was anxious to see Boston. Or my coworkers. Or UMass. Or my apartment. I wanted to tell Joey to turn the car around and speed in the opposite direction. I didn't want to be in Boston. I didn't want to be in Massachusetts at all!

It was like intentionally walking into the lion's den. I started imagining all the horrible things that could happen once Richard Lux and his minions found out we were back in town. No doubt, they'd find out. There were ways. I didn't know what the hell those ways were, but anyone with mafia ties could probably find out anything they wanted. I didn't want to stick around to get shot or kidnapped or worse.

It was taking all my self-control not to beg Joey to turn around. I knew it was unrealistic, because he couldn't just ignore his job. The police department was surely beyond pissed already, and it was ridiculous on my part to entertain the idea of Joey not going back to work like he intended to. It was equally as stupid for me to be so thoroughly considering not tending to my own responsibilities.

An exit taking us south, away from Boston caught my attention and the anxiety pumping through my veins seemed to steady itself.

"Where are we going?" I piped up.

Joey yawned, turning the wheel and tugging at his shirt collar. "We're going to spend a night in Westfield. Tomorrow morning I'm going to take you to a range and teach you how to shoot. Then we'll go back to Boston."

Take me to a range? Teach me to shoot a gun? What? the voice in my head freaked out.

I didn't know the first thing about shooting a gun and I wasn't so sure I wanted to learn any time soon. It was scary enough knowing there were men with guns chasing us, but I didn't want to think about my untrained hands pulling a trigger. What if I screwed up and accidentally hurt somebody?

"Joey, I don't know if that's such a great idea."

My eyes widened as I spoke, imagining how disastrously his plans could go. I was not at all confident with a firearm, and with as much stress as I was under, this wasn't the best time to try to teach me.

He sighed, running his fingers through his silky dark hair. A warm feeling crept up my body despite my obvious concern. I wanted to do that. I missed the feeling of his soft hair between my fingers.

"You'll be fine," he said in a tone that ended the conversation.

I didn't try to argue. I wasn't so sure I'd be fine, though.

I didn't sign up for this. I didn't want to have to learn how to operate a weapon under pressure. I'd planned to take shooting lessons someday, but I wasn't looking to do it any time soon. As a young woman living alone, I'd been thinking for a while that it would probably be a good idea to invest in a pistol for my own protection, but I wasn't anxious to carry out that plan.

We reached a small bed and breakfast on the edge of Westfield and Joey got us a room for the night. I was surprised when he asked for a room with only one bed. Sure, we'd slept together and had sex, but the way he'd acted towards me since then had given off the impression that he wasn't really interested in me anymore - assuming he truly had been before we got intimate.

I went ahead with my nightly routine and showered, enjoying the feeling of dawning fresh, comfy clothes for bed. I sat on top of the comforter and channel surfed while Joey showered.

Flipping through the numbers on the TV, I zoned out, getting lost in the sound of the water running in the next room. A visual danced through my mind of Joey, naked, with hot water droplets cascading down his toned body.

As much as I shouldn't have been thinking about him in that way, I couldn't help it. I didn't want to stop either. He was beyond handsome. He had a killer smile that instantly made me weak, and I couldn't get over the way those stunning blue eyes sparkled.

I was shaken from my thoughts when I unintentionally ended up on the investigative channel where a former detective was divulging the details of how he and his department solved a string of gruesome murders in a serial killer's stabbing spree. Gory, partially blurred images flashed across the screen while the man spoke about how heinous the crimes had been, and how difficult it was to even look at the victim's bodies.

I'd been hungry a few minutes before, but quickly lost my appetite.

Watching that show and hearing the way the detective talked about the killer made me cringe, and the memory of Cadillac Man on Joey's front porch returned to my mind. I turned the TV off in disgust, shaking my head as if that would toss out all the bad memories and fears.

Deciding to call it a night, I slipped my sweatshirt off and crawled under the covers. I hoped I could fall asleep before Joey reentered the room. I didn't want to have to discuss any more of our predicament with him. I was tired of talking about it, and I was even more sick of thinking about it.

An oncoming headache prompted me to turn out the bedside lamp and I cuddled into the pillow, my eyes feeling so much better once I closed them.

Seconds later, my comfort was rudely interrupted by my burner phone vibrating off the nightstand. It hit the carpeted floor with a small thud and I let out a frustrated groan, leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve it.

Blinking several times at the object still buzzing in my hand, I frowned in confusion, recognizing the number that was calling.

"Hello?" I answered sleepily, pulling the comforter over my head so Joey wouldn't hear me talking.

"Jessica?" My coworker, Samantha's voice came on the line.

Why on earth is she calling me?

"Sam?"

Had Heather given her the number? I mentally screamed at myself for not blocking the number when I'd called Heather. I'd assumed a burner phone should automatically have an unknown caller I.D. The last person I wanted to hear from was Samantha, my archenemy.

To my surprise, she sounded just as concerned as Heather had.

"Jessica, I know we don't usually get along and everything, but everyone's so worried about you. I just wanted to check on you," she said sincerely.

She'd never given two shits about me before, so why start now?

I rolled onto my other side, making sure the covers were still shielding the sound of my voice from Joey.

"Sam, I appreciate your concern, but I can't really talk right now," I told her.

Frankly, I didn't want to talk to her, whether she was worried about me or not.

"Where are you?" she asked bluntly.

My eyebrows furrowed together.

"I mean..." She cleared her throat, pausing momentarily. "Are you close by? Can I come by and help with anything?"

It was an odd set of questions. Samantha had always been my three-hours-late coworker who put all of her duties off on Heather and me. She'd led me to believe that she thought she was better than everyone else, and she expected everyone to wait on her hand and foot. Several times, our boss had had to break up arguments between us because I wasn't interested in working her job, too, and only getting paid for mine.

Of all people to suddenly start giving a shit, why her? And why would she want to help with anything?

Maybe she's just being nosy.

"I'm good." I rubbed my eyes. "I'm actually trying to get some sleep. I have a migraine."

I didn't have a migraine, though the dull ache would probably develop into one. I just wanted to get rid of her.

I heard rustling around on her end. It sounded like papers being shuffled.

"Can you at least tell me where you are? Just so I know you're safe..."

I was really surprised Sam seemed to care. With any luck, maybe she'd start being nicer to me at work, assuming her concern wasn't a facade. Maybe she'd had an attitude adjustment. I hoped she had, though I doubted it. Regardless, I wasn't about to play into her game, if she was just fucking with me.

"We're in Ohio," I mumbled sleepily. "I think I'll be back home in a week."

Samantha didn't need to know where we were or when we we'd be back in Boston. She was much more likely to blab to someone than Heather was. Who knew who she'd tell? I wasn't going to tell her we were in Westfield. What if somehow the line had been tapped and Cadillac Man was listening in? Ohio was far enough away, while still being believable, that it sounded like a safe bet.

"Great!" Her suddenly chipper voice made my head pound harder. "So I'll get to see you soon then!"

"I guess," I sighed. "I'm going to bed now, Sam. Goodnight."

I wasn't looking forward to seeing her. I pressed the little red button and rolled over dramatically, slamming the phone back on the nightstand harder than I meant to. I yanked the covers higher over my head and nestled my face between the two pillows.

Not long after, I heard the bathroom door squeak open and Joey walked in, tossing his dirty clothes in a plastic bag. I felt the bed shift as he laid down beside me.

"Jess?" he asked softly.

I wasn't in the mood for talking, though, and kept my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

"Jess?"

His hand on my shoulder shook me ever so slightly. I still didn't acknowledge him. I just wanted to sleep.

"Alright," he breathed. "Sweet dreams then, beautiful."

Joey's nickname for me elicited a deep blush, my cheeks feeling ablaze. I smiled against the pillows, the butterflies in my stomach performing some rendition of the Salsa in celebration. I knew I was probably getting my hopes up again in regards to his feelings for me, but it was hard to ignore how good he could make me feel.

The rest of the lights turned off and Joey climbed into bed beside me. The warmth of his body instantly encompassed mine and I realized I was in the middle of the bed, taking up most of the space. I attempted to give him more space, acting as if I were rolling over in my sleep. Since he didn't say anything, I assumed he bought it.

Then Joey scooted closer to me, placing his arm over my midsection and tugging my back against his chest. My blush reignited in a deeper shade of crimson. I could feel his warm breath against the back of my neck, a few strands of my hair moving with it just a tad, tickling my shoulder.

"I know it may seem drastic to take you to the range tomorrow," Joey spoke up.

I was confused. Surely, he thought I was asleep. Why was he trying to talk to me?

"And I know I've been kind of an asshole this whole trip," he sighed, his deep exhale raising goosebumps on my neck. "But I'm trying to keep you safe, Jessica. If you knew what Lux is capable of, you'd understand why I freaked out over your little phone call stunt. I don't have the heart or the balls to explain all that to you, though. And honestly, it's probably better if you don't know much about the bastard."

His sleepy voice turned rigid and his arm around me tugged at my body tighter. "I can't let you get hurt, Jess. I just can't. I'm the one who decided to uproot you from your life and I'm going to be the one to bring you back home safe."

I wanted to respond, but then he would know I'd been faking sleep. I wanted to roll over and hug him so tight, but I couldn't. I wanted to kiss him and thank him for protecting me. I wanted him to understand that I understood. Yeah, I didn't like when he yelled at me, but I understood why he had to, and I wasn't mad at him for it. I couldn't be. It was his mission to keep me safe and he was doing a pretty damn good job at it.

Joey went on to tell me a few things about himself. Another rare glimpse into his past and his heart. I wished we could have a regular two-sided conversation about these things, but given his tendency to shut that down before it happened, I was more than happy with listening to him while I pretended to be asleep. At least he was giving me something this way.

Joey said he secretly liked to cook, but rarely let anyone taste his food, for fear they'd say it was terrible. That got me entertaining the fantasy of him cooking me dinner, or us cooking together. It was a farfetched idea, but it made me feel good to envision.

Next, he told me how he'd had a mullet when he was in junior high and everyone had made fun of him, so he'd colored it green in attempts to fit in with the dyed hair crowd, and that had just made it worse. Looking back, he didn't know why he hadn't simply cut it.

Picturing Joey with green hair nearly sent me into a laugh attack and I was glad the lights were out so he couldn't see the corners of my mouth curve up, trying to hold back a grin.

He also talked about his grandparents who had been married sixty years, and how he was jealous because he'd always wanted that kind of love.

I envied relationships like that as well. I'd always hoped I'd someday meet a man who understood, respected, supported, and loved everything about me, and we'd live happily ever after and eventually become one of those adorable old couples sitting on a park bench, feeding the ducks.

Oh, how I wished I could have that.

It was probably unrealistic now, considering how popular divorce had become. It seemed like the old idea of staying married and working out your problems had mostly gone out the window. I didn't like that. I wanted to believe that in the majority of situations, you could work out your marital issues if you just put in enough effort.

Sunrise came too early with a beam of sunlight shining right into my eyes. I reached out and felt the bare mattress beside me. Joey had already gotten up and gathered his things, ready to leave. He was sitting on the arm of a rather uncomfortable looking chair across the room, watching TV.

The morning news was on and one of the local Boston reporters was detailing the story of a woman who had been murdered a few days prior. Her killer was still at-large and police were asking anyone with information to come forward.

My jaw dropped in shock when a picture of Lydia appeared on the screen. She looked so happy, smiling in the photo beside her sister, Helen.

I felt overcome with sickness. I still felt responsible in some way for her death, even though I knew it wasn't actually my fault.

"Can you turn that off, please?" I begged, covering my face.

Joey switched the channel to the weather and left his spot on the chair. He took a seat beside me and gently removed my hands from my face.

"Hey," he said in almost a whisper, placing soft feather-like kisses on the backs of my hands. "We're going to be alright. Okay?"

Joey looked at me through his bangs. They'd grown out a bit since I'd met him. Long enough that he could probably use a haircut by department standards, but I thought it made him more attractive. I hoped he wouldn't get it cut any time soon.

"Jess?" His eyes bore into mine and my breath hitched. "I'm serious. I'm going to keep you safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Okay," I breathed.

And for the first time since we'd met, I actually believed that.