The cold metal cuffs scratched at my knuckles, scraping away at the skin while I tried to squeeze my hands through. It wasn't working. I'd been at this for nearly twenty minutes and all I'd achieved so far was bloodied knuckles to match my bloodied palms.

I rested my forehead against the steering wheel and closed my eyes, trying to regulate my breathing. My pulse had yet to slow down. My heart still felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

Joey's handsome face came to mind and I started to relax a little, but then I remembered the reluctant look on his face when he'd left me on the front steps of the courthouse. I missed him like crazy already. I'd tried to keep him at arm's length. I wasn't ready for the feelings he'd elicited within me. At least, I wasn't ready when I'd met him, but maybe I was now.

Joey still didn't know about my past. I'd considered telling him numerous times, but no time had felt like the right time yet. I wondered if I'd ever even get to see him again. Was I in this mess alone now? What was going to happen to him? Was he possibly in jail right now?

I frowned at my hideous reflection in the rearview mirror. I was pretty banged up. Blood was splattered all over my body. My hair was all tangled up like a tumbleweed. I had a few big black bruises and several smaller ones. My clothes were torn and dirty. I looked like I'd just emerged from the gates of hell. I felt like it, too.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and felt something behind me. I was sitting on something. I lifted up and awkwardly reached under my ass with my linked hands. It was my burner phone. It had survived the journey!

I looked at the phone. It was bent from being sat on, and the screen was cracked, but it still worked.

"Thank God," I breathed, practically hugging the phone to my chest.

I debated calling the police, but how was I going to explain everything to them? With my luck, I'd probably incriminate myself, too. But then, it started ringing.

I hesitated to answer. The screen was so severely damaged that I couldn't read the caller I.D. What if it was Cadillac Man or Richard Lux?

"H-hello?" I stuttered, trying to swallow my nerves.

I'd just successfully outran a murderous thug and at least five police cars in a high speed chase. Where had that confidence boost run off to? This was no time for me to be nervous on a phone call.

"Where are you?"

I nearly squealed with delight when I heard his voice. "Oh my god, Joey. It's you!"

"Never mind that. Tell me where the fuck you are!" His tone was livid.

"I..." I looked around at my surroundings, but nothing seemed familiar. "I don't know. I'm behind some shitty motel. I just got away from the Cadillac again. I-"

"I'll GPS your location," he interrupted.

I held the phone out and scrunched up my nose in confusion. "What? How can you-"

"Our burners are connected. Basically, I can look up where you are," he told me.

I could hear a lot of background noise on the line. He was driving, likely with the windows down. It sounded like wind whistling with his voice.

"What do I do?" I asked, staring at the phone again.

"Nothing. Just hang on. I'll find you."

I waited. Waited some more. A full minute ticked by with no communication. Just the sound of wind howling on the phone.

"Joey?"

"It's not working, Jess," he said, frustrated. "Why isn't it working?"

"My screen is busted up pretty bad. It probably ruined any chance of a GPS working."

Joey let out an angry groan and it sounded like he slammed his fist against the steering wheel. It wasn't my fault, but I felt responsible for the inconvenience. I hoped he wasn't too pissed at me.

"What do you see? What's around you?" he asked.

I glanced around again. The Sleepy Traveler Inn was to my left. There was a Costco down the street to my right. A lot of trees. An old, rundown neighborhood across the road. I couldn't remember what highway I'd exited from and the sign was blocked from my view by the building.

"I'm behind the Sleepy Traveler Inn," I told him. "I see a Costco. Um..."

"I know where you are."

I raised my eyebrows. "You do?"

"Stay put. I'm coming to get you," he ordered and hung up.

Silence filled the car. I stared blankly at the cracked phone screen. I could barely read the time at the top of the screen. It was nearing two-thirty. I'd been out of Boston for approximately two hours. I knew I was still near the city. Cadillac Man hadn't taken me too far away. I hadn't paid much attention to the highway signs during the chase, but I thought I'd driven back in the direction of Westfield.

While I waited for Joey's arrival, I constantly checked that all the doors were locked. Not that it would make any difference with three of the windows shattered, but that little lock button gave me just enough comfort to get by. I was thankful that it was still daylight. I would not have wanted to be camping out behind a roach motel at night with virtually no protection.

I heard a car pull into the parking lot and my heart leaped to my throat. Finally, I was going to get out of there! But the vehicle's reflection in the busted side mirror sent me into a panicked frenzy.

It was a police car. Probably a regular patrol checking things out. The Sleepy Traveler Inn looked like a prime location for drug deals to go down. I'd picked a terrible hiding spot. There was no way they weren't going to notice the beat up car and quiz me about it.

I sank down in the seat, pushing as much of my lower half as I could into the floorboard beneath the steering wheel. If I stayed out of sight, maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't come over.

I held my breath, trying to be as quiet as a mouse. I could hear the tires rolling over the gravel. I stayed as still as I could, my lungs burning from the lack of air. The squad car stopped. No! They were going to come search the car for drugs or guns or something! They'd find me! There was nowhere for me to run! Joey, where are you?

The car door slammed. I could hear someone walking across the lot. The gravel crunched under their shoes. They were coming closer. Each step was getting louder.

"If this is your idea of hiding, you're quite amateur at it."

Joey's voice filled my ears and I opened my eyes to see him leaning against the window. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so excited to see somebody!

He opened the door while I squirmed to free myself from my floorboard cocoon. I threw myself into his arms and we fell back against the side of the police car.

"Nice to see you, too," he chuckled. "It's been... what? Three? Four hours? You act like I just came home from a deployment."

It did feel like I hadn't seen him in forever. "God, I missed you so much!"

I couldn't help myself. I planted a big, sloppy kiss on him right there.

"I can tell," he mumbled against my lips, kissing me back in a slower, sweeter rhythm. "I missed you, too."

"I thought I might not see you again," I whispered, burying my face in the crook of his neck. "I thought I was on my own now. It was terrifying."

"It's okay. I'm here now. You're safe."

He looked at me with those sparkling blue eyes and it seemed like all the broken puzzle pieces fit right back together again. I'd never felt so safe with a man until him.

"Uh... Joey..." I remembered the inconvenience plaguing my wrists. "I have a problem."

He cocked a brow. "Hmm?"

I lifted my arms back over his head and held up my wrists for him to see. "Any chance you can get these off? I couldn't squeeze my hands through."

He threw his head back and groaned. "You mean to tell me that you drove a getaway car with cuffs on? Good grief, woman. You're something."

I didn't know whether to take that as condescending or a compliment. "Is that a yes?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Come on. Get in the car."

I hopped in the squad car and looked around. The dashboard was loaded with all kinds of electronics. Joey slid in the driver's seat and started fishing through the console.

"Should be in here somewhere," he muttered to himself.

I watched as he shuffled through the contents. "What are you looking for?"

"A knife. Brad always has a couple lying around in here."

What the hell did he need a knife for? Weren't there keys?

Finally, he found what he was looking for. "Okay. Give me your hands."

I reluctantly laid my cuffed hands on the console. "Where are bobby pins when you need them?"

Joey breathed a laugh, but kept his eyes glued to the literal situation at hand. I looked away while he worked his magic on the cuffs. I felt the pressure of the knife pressing down on the metal, and his hands brushing against mine. I decided to play lookout while he worked on freeing me. I suspiciously watched every vehicle that drove by, expecting to see Cadillac Man again. No one seemed to slow down or notice us when they passed. We were safe for the time being.

I felt a click and the left restraint fell loose. It was working! I watched Joey apply the same efforts to the right cuff, but it was a little more stubborn. He wedged the tip of the pocket knife up inside the handcuff. It took a few more tries before he jimmied the lock, but the right cuff finally slid off my wrist. I was free!

Joey grabbed my hands and looked at the bloody scratches on my hands and wrists. His eyes darkened in anger.

"Who did this to you?" he asked in a low, predatory voice.

"One of the men in the Cadillac. He pretended to be a cop. He was supposed to be my custody officer," I explained, staring at his hands encompassing mine. "Brad said I was a flight risk. I just thought it was standard procedure."

The mention of Brad drew a snarl from Joey's throat. I wondered if he knew yet about Brad being in on it.

"Joey... Brad was-"

"I know," he said, his tone hard, almost scary.

I had so many questions for Joey, but now didn't seem like the right time to start quizzing him. He had a look in his eyes like he could kill somebody at the slightest provocation. I knew better than to test his patience.

"And how did this happen?" He turned my hands over where the tiny shards of glass were visibly stuck in my palms.

"It happened when I was climbing out of the Cadillac. I broke the back window." I shuddered at the memory.

Joey said nothing, but retrieved a first aid kit from the trunk. He spent several agonizingly long minutes trying to pick each speck of glass out with tweezers. I cringed every time the metal touched my skin. I tried to focus on him instead of what he was doing, and ended up staring at his face, taking in his features. He looked so handsome, regardless of how drained of energy he was. Once he thought he'd gotten it all out, he cleaned the wounds and bandaged my hands.

"Where are we going?" I asked when he got back in the car.

Joey flopped back against his seat with a huff. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. We both were. We'd stayed that way since day one. We needed sleep and nourishment, and we desperately needed a change of clothes.

"Cape Cod."

I started to ask why Cape Cod, but I figured it would be best if I saved the questions for later, after we'd both had time to catch our breaths.

He turned the engine on and looped back around the building, heading back toward the highway. Neither of us said a word the entire drive. I watched the road signs and the trees go by. We passed through Kingston, then Plymouth. We drove down route six and I could see Cape Cod Bay off to the left. The water was beautiful, the sun shining off the waves.

I'd never been to Cape Cod. I'd always assumed it would be like Panama City Beach or Galveston with all the crazy spring breakers. To my surprise, there weren't too many people out and about, despite it being summertime.

Eventually, Joey took an exit and we wandered down narrow city streets. The windows were rolled down and I could hear the ocean. We were getting closer to the water. Large trees created an archway over the road leading to the beach. It wasn't too hot out, but the shade felt amazing. Crisp sea air wafted into the car and I sucked in a big breath. It smelled clean and fresh with a hint of salty.

Joey pulled up to a small house that resembled a log cabin. It was right on the beach with spectacular views all around. There were no other vehicles nearby and the beachfront property was pretty secluded with mature trees creating a tall barrier between it and other homes in the area.

"Where are we?" I asked Joey.

He smiled, taking in the breathtaking views. "This was my grandpa's beach house."