The highways were crowded, as usual. I felt another one of those awful lumps form in my throat when we passed a sign announcing that we'd crossed into Boston city limits.

I'd been running scenarios through my head of what it would be like when I met the witness protection people. I'd tried to force out any thoughts of Joey being separated from me, and instead I focused on trying to draw up a picture in my mind of what my protective custody captors would look like, and where they would have me stay until the threat was extinguished.

Joey and I hadn't spoken a word to each other since my dramatic episode earlier. He'd never responded to my crying pleas. We'd sat in uncomfortable silence until my emotions had settled down. Then he'd gotten back on the road.

He hadn't full-on looked at me since then either. I'd caught a few of his peripheral glances, but he seemed to be avoiding me as best he could. I assumed that everything he'd gone through with me in the last week, coupled with Ron's death, had been more than he could bear in such a short time span. My emotional breakdowns and romantic feelings toward him were the last thing he needed now.

I decided not to mention my feelings anymore. I'd be meeting the witness protection people soon enough, and I'd have to say goodbye to Joey. I'd tried to keep our last few hours together memorable in a good way, but my heartstrings had been yanked in a different direction. I'd listened to my heart instead of my head, and now every time I thought about Joey after this day, I'd regret ruining our last day together. Surely, this had been too much for him. He wouldn't want to see me again. Hell, there was probably some law enforcement protocol that would prevent it anyway, even if he did want to see me. There was no such thing as a happy ending here. Then again, I'd never gotten a happy ending before. Why should today be any different?

"Hey, Brad." Joey's voice brought me back to reality. "Yeah. Not too far away. Probably about ten minutes. Okay. Thanks."

I looked at him expectantly, but I already could guess what the call was about. I remembered him telling me that Brad was his partner. He was calling to let him know we were almost there.

I had ten minutes left with Joey.

"We'll be there in-"

"Ten minutes," we said in unison.

"I know," I sighed. "I'm not excited."

"Witness protection ain't that bad, Jess," Joey tried to reassure me.

"Oh, sure. Except for the part where everyone who's supposed to protect you is more interested in protecting the prosecution's case than the actual witness," I retorted, a bitter taste in my mouth at the thought.

His brows drew together and he reached over to lace his fingers with mine. My breath hitched. I closed my eyes and tried to memorize the way it felt to hold hands with him.

"You're not exactly wrong..." he muttered, his words full of regret. "But I promise, I won't let anything happen to you, whether you're under my watch or someone else's. You'll be safe."

I shook my head, blankly staring at the Boston skyline in the distance. "You can't guarantee that, Joey. Nobody's going to give half a shit about me once I'm in witness protection. They won't care the way you did."

"No. You're right. They won't care about you as much as I have – as much as I do." His voice rose, laced with frustration and hurt. "Because they haven't been through hell and back with you. They haven't come to know you as a beautiful, intelligent, capable woman. Not to mention hardheaded, by the way."

"Hey!" I smacked his arm, half-jokingly.

Damn him for always being able to make me smile when I wanted to be mad.

"Let me finish," he said. "I can promise you that every single person on that team will try their damnedest to keep you out of harm's way, Jessica. I can guarantee that much."

"It still won't be the same. It won't be you."

There I go exposing my heart again. Damnit.

"I wish I didn't have to do this," he told me, pursing his lips together in a tight line.

I wanted to tell him how I really felt about him. He probably had a pretty good guess, but I felt a nearly uncontrollable urge to spill my guts to him. I wanted him to know how much I loved kissing him and sleeping with him. I wanted to tell him how I thought he looked amazing every day, whether he put any effort into his appearance or not. I longed to divulge my darkest desires with him, and how much I craved his body against mine. I wanted to say that he was the strongest and most admirable man I'd ever known, and that no man had ever treated me with the care and dignity that he had. I was even willing to tell him all about my past... and him. I was willing to tell Joey about him. But before I could say anything-

"Here we are," Joey said in an undecipherable tone, parallel parking in front of the Suffolk County Courthouse.

"Joey, there's something I-"

"There's Brad, my partner."

He pointed to a tall, muscular blonde man with cropped hair, probably a few years older than him. He was in uniform, waiting outside the courthouse for us.

"Ready to go?" Joey asked, a sadness clouding the once dazzling blue in his eyes.

"Honestly?" I glanced back at Brad who looked less than thrilled about taking time out of his day for this. "Not at all."

"Listen, Jess..." He grabbed my hands and pulled me closer. "I'd love for you to stay with me. And who knows? Maybe we'll be able to work something out. But for now, I need you to stick with Brad and do everything he says. He's a good guy. He'll take care of you. Okay?"

I hesitated, but agreed.

Joey fetched my clothing bag from the backseat while I unplugged our newly charged phones. I returned the revolver that had been awkwardly crammed in the waistband of my jeans since we'd left the neighborhood where we'd stolen the truck. My clothing bag had several tears in the plastic from our adventures in the bushes. I was surprised all my clothing was still there. Joey hauled his belongings over his shoulder and I followed closely behind him, trekking up the concrete steps to the courthouse.

"Hey, man. You doing alright?" Brad asked, pulling Joey into a half-handshake-half-hug. "Seems like you've been gone for an eternity. Let me look at you."

He held Joey at arm's length and gave him a good once over.

Joey shook his head, his bangs tossed haphazardly. "I'm fine. I'm fine. It's good to see you, too, dude."

"And you must be Jessica Turner."

Brad turned his attention to me and I felt like I was on a stage in front of the entire world. The way he eyed me was like putting me under a microscope.

Must be a police thing.

"Uh... yeah. Hi," I managed, shaking his hand.

Joey and I exchanged a look and his eyes pleaded with me to try to make this work. I was already stepping out of my comfort zone. I wasn't willing to go much further, for fear I'd fall off the cliff.

"Jess, Brad's going to introduce you to the people who will get you set up with witness protection," Joey told me. "I have to head inside and talk to someone. Are you going to be alright?"

Hell no, I'm not going to be alright! I thought you were going to be the one introducing me to these protective people!

"I-"

"Oh, she'll be fine, Joe," Brad interjected. "Don't worry. She's in good hands."

I wanted to give Brad a piece of my mind, but Joey had made it clear that he wanted me to stop fighting the process and let it be. I reeled in my sudden burst of frustration and put on my fakest smile.

"Yeah, Joey. I'll be alright." I looked over at his partner. "Brad seems really nice."

Joey nodded and swallowed an obvious urge to delay his retreat, stalking up the final set of steps. I watched him disappear into the courthouse. I stared at the double doors, crossing my fingers that he would come back out, but he didn't.

"You ready?" Brad's gruff voice jerked me out of my trance.

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He led me back down the steps and around the corner to another entrance. He waved a badge that allowed us entry. There was no security checkpoint and there didn't appear to be anyone else around.

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"Not much further."

Brad kept a hand wrapped a little too tightly around my upper arm as he led me down the tiled corridor. I wondered if he thought I'd try to run away if he didn't keep ahold of me. Why hadn't he just handcuffed me, for that matter?

The hallway turned into a catwalk that went over the street below and connected the courthouse with the police department.

"How come Joey had to go to the courthouse, but we're at the police station?" I asked when we walked in.

Brad continued leading me down another hallway. "He has to see the assistant district attorney about possible charges."

Possible charges. I knew he wasn't immune to legal repercussions, but I hoped they could at least go easy on him. After all, everything he'd done was to protect a fellow Bostonian. It wasn't like Joey had just up and decided to go on a law-breaking rampage halfway across the country. Everything he'd done was to protect me.

"Can't they go easy on him?" I asked. "Surely, your bosses will understand. I know he broke a lot of rules, but-"

"I don't know," Brad shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face. "We'll just have to wait and see. The DA will probably offer him a deal since they'll want him to testify in court over all this."

As we made our way through the station, I felt the eyes of every other police officer on me when we passed by. I had no doubt they knew about everything that had happened in my past – everything that had happened with him – and they were likely going to drag my character through the mud for it. I was fully prepared for whomever I was going to see to sit me down in one of those interrogation rooms like you see on TV and open a three-inch-thick file on me. They'd probably give a long-winded explanation as to why they couldn't give me very much as far as witness protection went, and they'd blame it on my history. I couldn't blame them too much, though. If I read my file, I'd probably assume I was guilty, too.

"Right in here, please."

Brad opened the door to a small room with a metal table and a chair on either side. He briefly locked me in there while he went to retrieve some paperwork and take my bag of clothing to the person he referred to as my custody officer.

I sat down and the cold metal sent a chill through my body. The room was bare except for a blacked out window on one wall and a tiny camera up in the corner. This wasn't the first time I'd seen the inside of an interrogation room, but I prayed it would be the last.

I wondered what Joey was doing right then. What kind of deal was the district attorney's office proposing? Was he sitting in an interrogation room, too? Was he talking to someone about me? Was he wondering about me?

The door squeaked open and Brad entered the room with a small stack of papers, a coffee cup, and a clipboard. He sat down across from me and I found myself staring at my reflection in the blackened window, wondering if there were people on the other side watching us.

"Here," Brad spoke, setting the coffee in front of me. "I thought you could probably use it."

I stared at the cup, trying to gather my wits, and finally picked it up, taking a sip. "Thank you."

He nodded and flipped through his papers. The room was eerily quiet aside from the sound of paper shuffling. I stared at the camera on the ceiling. Were there people watching us from there?

"Okay." Brad's voice startled me and I jumped a little. "I just need you to sign and date these at the bottom. This is what we call a Memorandum of Understanding."

"What does it-"

"It means you're agreeing to provide us with truthful information; you'll truthfully testify in court, if the DA deems necessary; you'll cooperate with witness protection services; and abide by state and federal laws," Brad informed me in a dull tone that said he'd recited this spiel a hundred times. "Any questions?"

I decided not to press his buttons. I was already uncomfortable enough and he seemed to be already frustrated with playing babysitter for me.

I shook my head and signed and dated the papers. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Brad did seem nice, but he didn't seem like the type of police officer who would be real patient with me – not like Joey had.

"Alright," he huffed, sliding two more papers my way. "Just do the same. Sign and date these and we'll be on our way."

I did as I was told and Brad went off to take the paperwork wherever it needed to go, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.

"God, I miss you, Joey," I whispered to myself, blinking away tears.

A few agonizingly slow minutes later, Brad held the door open and gestured for me to follow him.

"What are we doing now?" I asked.

He curled his fingers around my arm again and led me back down the hall in the direction we'd come from. "We're going to transfer you to witness protection. Your custody officer is waiting as we speak."

Custody officer? As in police officer? Could it be Joey?

"It's not Joey." He doused cold water on my hopes.

We turned a corner and I could see double doors leading to the street and another man in uniform waiting on a wooden bench.

"Here she is," said Brad. "Take good care of her."

Brad gave me a little shove toward the man. He was older, probably mid-thirties, with jet black hair and dark eyes. He looked hardened by his profession. I was already getting the vibe that witness protection would not be a pleasurable experience.

I held out my hand for the man to shake, but he grabbed my wrist, turned me around, and cuffed my hands behind my back.

"Is this necessary?" I frowned, looking at Brad.

The dark haired man didn't answer, but Brad said I was considered a flight risk. I didn't see how, though. I hadn't been that reluctant with Joey, and I'd agreed to cooperate with witness protection services. Was it something Joey had told them that made them think that?

"Take care of yourself," Brad said to me.

There seemed to be a hint of regret in his eyes when he turned to leave. I watched him until he turned the corner out of view.

The dark headed officer hooked an arm around mine, similar to the way Brad had held my arm, and led me outside.

"Where are we going? I asked.

No answer. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Can I at least get your name?" I tried again.

Nothing.

"Okay," I huffed. "But this is going to be terribly boring if you're not even going to speak to me."

We followed the sidewalk around the backside of the police station where dozens of squad cars were parked. There was no one else around. Just us two.

He walked me to the opposite side of the parking lot and stopped, looking around expectantly, tapping his foot.

"Are we waiting for something?" I asked.

He didn't say anything, but finally met my eyes for a split second. Something about him seemed so familiar, but I just couldn't place it. I knew I hadn't met him in uniform before. I would've remembered his attitude. Maybe I'd seen him at a grocery store or the gas station. Maybe he was taking classes at UMass. I might've seen him on campus. Maybe-

Something moving out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. He noticed it, too. I turned my head, following his gaze down the street. The infamous black Cadillac Escalade had turned the corner and was heading straight for us.

It all made sense now.

"You're not a custody officer, are you?" I shouted, trying to jerk my arm free from his grasp. "You're one of them!"

"And they say blondes are dumb," he laughed wickedly.

That's why he hadn't spoken to me until now. He knew I would recognize his voice. He was one of the men who had chased us after the incident at Marty's Car Mart!