Max heard a click as Alyssa answered her cell phone. “Locke.”

“Surprise,” he said, closing his office door, “it’s me.”

“How did you—”

“It’s this new device that sends a signal that messes with the receiving cell phone. The last number you dialed shows up on your screen instead of my real incoming number. Slick, huh?”

“Very.”

“So who’d you think I was?”

“None of your business,” she said much too sweetly. She was definitely still pissed at him.

“I wish you’d called me back. I really have to talk to you.” Max didn’t sit down at the desk, knowing if he did, he’d automatically start reading files. This conversation deserved 100 percent of his attention. He looked out the window, instead.

Florida’s sky was its own special shade of blue. He could see the water from here, sparkling in the sunlight.

“I’m a little too busy right now to return phone calls to jerks,” Alyssa told him. “Can’t it wait?”

“No,” he said. “But I’ll make it quick. I can’t marry you because I’m more of a jerk than you think. I’m sorry. I, um, really screwed up last night and—”

“Oh, Max,” she said. “I already know. You don’t really think you could stop answering your phone for all those hours and not have anyone notice?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I figured there’d be rumors. I just wanted you to hear it from me first. And I wanted you to hear the truth.” He took a deep breath. “God, Alyssa, I slept with her.”

She laughed, a low, warm sound. “About time. Are you okay?”

“No,” Max admitted. It was possible he was never going to be okay again. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

“Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I’ve handed in my letter of resignation.”

“Max—”

Max rested his head against the warm glass of the window. “Effective as soon as this mess is over or by the end of the month, whichever comes first.”

“My God—”

“I’ve recommended that Peggy Ryan take over as team leader,” he said, “and that you be moved into the position she’ll be vacating.”

“You can’t do this!”

“I screwed up, Alyssa,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have slept with her. She’s still so vulnerable and... and that’s not even taking into consideration that not even forty-eight hours earlier I’d asked you to marry me, which, by the way, was also completely inappropriate.”

“I said no,” Alyssa reminded him.

“You said you’d think about it.”

“Yeah, but I was going to say no, and you knew it. Come on, Max, we both knew you weren’t serious.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I was.”

“Please don’t quit,” Alyssa said. “How can you quit? We need you.”

“How can I not quit?” he asked. “Look, I have to go. I just wanted you to hear it from me first.”

“Running away is not the answer,” she told him. “Damn it, Max—”

“You get an update this morning from Jules?”

“Yes. Max—”

“Be careful,” he said. “The threat is very real. This is not just a terrorist cell we’re dealing with, with their two weeks of terror-camp training. This is a professional, a high-level operative—I’m guessing a mercenary—who doesn’t want his identity known.”

“Max,” she said. “Please listen to—”

“I’m terribly sorry if I hurt you—”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m still sorry,” he said. “And I do have to go.” He hung up the phone.

Florida’s sky was still its own special shade of blue. He could still see the water from here, sparkling in the sunlight. He could see pelicans gliding effortlessly along on the air currents. He could see the causeway over to Siesta Key.

Where Gina was getting ready to check out of her room.

Max turned away from the window. “Laronda!” he shouted. “I need my car!”

By the time he opened his office door, his assistant was already off the phone. “It’s waiting for you out front,” she told him, giving him absolutely zero crap for shouting.

He hadn’t told her about the letter yet, but she knew something big was up and she was worried. He could see it in her eyes.

“I don’t know how long this is going to take,” Max said. “Field my calls, will you? I don’t want my cell to ring unless it’s the President or someone calling to tell me we’ve located Mary Lou Starrett.”

“Yes, sir.”

He headed for the elevator.

Mary Lou stood up so fast her chair fell over backward.

“Hello, Mary Lou.” Ihbraham Rahman. Alive and well and looking at her with tears in his beautiful brown eyes. He smiled at Haley, too. “How are you, Haley?”

“How did you find me?” Mary Lou breathed. But she looked at Whitney, and she knew.

Yesterday—probably after she’d called Ihbraham—Whitney had referred to Mary Lou’s ex-husband as Sam, even though Mary Lou had never used his real name.

That was what had been gnawing at her, making her anxious.

“Whitney called me,” Ihbraham told her in that musical, faintly British accent that was so familiar to her. “It didn’t make much sense at first—I didn’t know who she was talking about—but then I realized that it must be you. She said Sam is trying to kill you? I don’t understand this. When you spoke of him before you said he’d never hurt you. But she said you were here and that he was after you, and that you needed me, so I got in my truck and... here I am.”

Oh, Lord, oh, Lord...

“I found him by calling information. There was only one Ihbraham Rahman in San Diego.” Whitney smiled, proud of herself. “Aren’t you going to kiss him?”

Mary Lou nearly slapped her. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve killed us all!” Keeping her voice low so Haley and Amanda wouldn’t freak out, she pulled Ihbraham with her out the door and into the hall. “What I needed was for you to stay away from me!” She couldn’t believe this was happening. “I needed you not to get killed, like Janine!”

“Your sister is dead?” he asked.

“Yes, they killed her. Oh, my God, Ihbraham! My God! We have to get out of here. Right now!” Whitney was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide. “Get Haley and Amanda,” she ordered the girl. “Take them to their room, and get Pooh and Dinosaur and sweatshirts for everyone. I have to get something out of my apartment, then we’re heading for the garage. We are leaving here. Now.”

“Who killed Janine?” Ihbraham asked, catching her arm. “Sam? Mary Lou, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

It was his hand, with his long, graceful, dark brown fingers, so warm on her arm, that made her start to cry. She grabbed for him, holding him tightly as she kissed him, her arms around his neck.

“Ah, Mary Lou,” he breathed. He held her just as close as he kissed her, too, just the way she remembered, the way she’d dreamed about for months and months, with real love—his lips so gentle, his mouth so soft. “I prayed for you to call me. I thought you changed your mind.”

“I didn’t call because I love you,” she told him through her tears. “I was afraid they’d kill you, too.”

“Who?” he said, pulling back to look at her.

Whitney, of course, was still standing there, gaping, along with the girls.

Mary Lou wiped her face. She’d promised herself she’d never cry in front of Haley. “Run ahead and get Pooh Bear and Dinosaur,” Mary Lou told the two little girls as cheerfully as she could.

Then she told Ihbraham, and Whitney, too, as she led the way down the hall to her apartment.

About the gun she’d found in the trunk of her car. About the way it disappeared before she could show it to Sam. About seeing Bob Schwegel, Insurance Sales, again, outside Janine’s house. About Janine lying dead in the kitchen. About Mary Lou’s frantic flight and her attempt to hide.

About the fact that Bob knew of her relationship with Ihbraham, and that he’d surely followed him here.

“Get sweatshirts,” Mary Lou told Whitney again as she went into her bedroom, went into the closet, and started loading all those guns she’d taken from King Frank’s office into her beach bag.

She’d never heard Ihbraham curse before, and she wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him curse now, because whatever he said, it wasn’t in English. She suspected, though, that it was the Arabic version of holy shit.

“Wait,” he said, kneeling down next to her on the floor. “Mary Lou. Wait. This is... No, this is not the answer. If you are so certain we’re in this much danger, we need help. We need to call the police.”

“They’ll arrest me,” she told him.

He caught her hands. “If they do, they will quickly see you’re innocent of any wrongdoing. This is not the answer. Running and hiding and living in such terrible fear.” He pushed her hair back from her face. “Please listen and trust me. It’s time to ask someone in authority for help.”

“This is a wild goose chase,” Sam said as they pulled into the Publix parking lot.

They were going back after that help-wanted poster for a live-in nanny that he’d seen there yesterday. Maybe what they should do was go back to the library, look at the want ads from three weeks ago, see what other live-in positions Mary Lou might’ve tried for.

Alyssa glanced at him. “We could head back to San Diego,” she said. “Try a completely different approach. See if we can’t track down this Ihbraham Rahman that Mary Lou was friends with. Maybe he can lead us to her.”

“It’ll take more than twenty-four hours to drive to San Diego,” Sam pointed out. “There’s no way we could get on a plane with the FBI looking for me.”

She nodded. “I know.”

What was she telling him?

She glanced at him again after she parked beneath a tiny, thirsty-looking palm tree that provided only a scrap of shade. “I think it’s probably going to take us more than twenty-four hours to find them,” she told him. “I think we should stop thinking in terms of that particular time limitation.”

“But you said you had to deliver either me or your resignation,” Sam said. “Or has Max changed his mind about that?”

He’d tried not to listen when she’d gotten that phone call from Max. He’d gone into the bathroom and turned on the water and tried to respect her privacy.

She’d said nothing about it when he came back out, which had worried him. Sure, he’d given her privacy, but that didn’t mean she had to take it, did it?

He took a deep breath. Maybe if he silently chanted, I will not be an asshole, he’d start to believe it and behave accordingly.

“No,” she said. “I’m sure he hasn’t.”

Holy fuck, Alyssa was willing to give up her career for him. Sam cleared his throat. “I’ve heard rumors that Tom Paoletti’s going to need an XO for a civilian team he’s maybe thinking of starting.”

“Whoa.” That caught her attention. “Sam, that’s great. You’re a good choice for that.”

“You’re a better one,” he told her.

It was his turn to surprise her.

“A lot of the consultant-type work that would come to a group like that would be handed off from the Bureau or the CIA,” Sam said. “It makes more sense to have a second in command who came out of one of those agencies.” He smiled at her. “You could be my boss. Order me around. Be honest now. Wouldn’t that be a dream come true for you?”

She laughed, but there were tears in her eyes. “I thought you were against the idea of women in the teams.”

“I was and I am,” he told her. “But this isn’t a SEAL team. This is something else. And I’d love to work with you. A shooter like you, guarding my six?”

Alyssa grabbed him by the tie and pulled him close enough to kiss. Which she did, quite thoroughly.

“Go get that phone number from that help-wanted poster,” she told him. “I’m running in to the drug store.”

Sam couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. “Alyssa, what if you don’t take that pill?”

She let go of his tie, her eyes suddenly wary.

“I can’t pretend that it doesn’t bother me,” he said. “I mean, what’s the difference between that pill and an abortion? I’m sorry, I know it was my idea, but—”

“It’s my body,” she said quietly. “Shouldn’t the choice be mine?”

“Yes. It should,” he told her. “And it is. I’m not saying it’s not. But it’s also our baby, and... I know you think I’m a jerk, but I really do want to have a family with you. I know it’s way too early for me to tell you that, but it’s true and I think you need to know it before you go taking some pill, just in case you were maybe thinking that it was something I didn’t want. I just think it’s fair—and important—for you to know how I feel.”

Alyssa was quiet for a long time.

So Sam kept going. He’d completely jumped the gun anyway. Might as well go big. “I am going to marry you, Alyssa. And if not now, then someday we will have a baby together. I’m determined. You might want to start bracing yourself for the inevitability of that.”

She was looking at him, but he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking.

And of course, just as she took a breath to speak, her phone rang.

She opened it, frowning slightly as she glanced down at the number. “Alyssa Locke.” She listened for a moment, then laughed. “Where are you? Are you all right? Oh, my God. There’re a lot of people looking for you, worried about you.”

She motioned for a pen and paper, and Sam grabbed the pad that they’d been making notes on. There was a pen sticking out of one of the cup holders and Alyssa already had it uncapped.

“Repeat that, please.” She wrote down an address as he held the pad in place.

“It’s Mary Lou,” Alyssa told Sam. “She said she had my cell number and—”

No fucking way.

“She’s fine,” Alyssa said as he opened up their street map of Sarasota. “Haley’s with her. Along with—get this—Ihbraham Rahman. He talked her into calling. Apparently she’s very worried for their safety.”

No fucking way.

“Mary Lou, can you describe the man you saw outside of your sister’s house on the night she was killed? Blond hair? You saw him? You could ID him in a lineup? Wait, hang on a sec, will you?” Alyssa leaned over the map, too. “She described it as a compound, Sam. She said it’s a main house and two guest cottages on a lake, about twenty miles south and west of Sarasota. There’s a gatehouse and guards—not for a development, but for this individual piece of property.”

“Got it.” Sam found the street on the map, angling it so Alyssa could see. “Man, it’s in the middle of nowhere.”

“We’re about twenty-five minutes away from you, Mary Lou.”

“That’s pretty optimistic,” he said.

Alyssa looked at him. “Not if you drive.”

He was out the door and sliding over the hood of the car as she scrambled over the parking brake.

“What’s your phone number?” she asked Mary Lou. “In case we get cut off?”

Sam backed out of the parking spot and headed for Route 41 south as Alyssa wrote the number down.

“We’re on our way,” she told Mary Lou.

The maid knocked, and Gina adjusted her robe more tightly around her as she went to the door.

“I’m still in here,” she said. “I won’t be out until—”

It was Max.

“Hi,” he said. He’d showered and was wearing a very crisp white shirt with a suit that had nary a wrinkle.

His dark hair was neatly combed and his cheeks were so smooth and clean, he must’ve shaved on the way over, in the car. He smelled delicious, and his eyes were so richly brown that just looking into them made her knees weak. He looked so good, so solidly, intensely male, Gina’s mouth went dry.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said. “Today,” she amended when he frowned.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped back, opening the door wider, then closing it behind him.

He looked at her suitcase open on the bed. Looked at the clothes she’d worn last night, still lying on the floor where she’d thrown them.

Gina picked them up, jammed them into her laundry bag. “I hate packing.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do, too.”

He was looking at her now, at her hair, still damp from her shower, at her thin cotton robe. It was kind of obvious she had nothing on beneath it. Still, he let himself look. Gina allowed herself to hope that that was a good thing.

But then he said, “Gina, how do I fix this? I’ve been trying to figure it out and—”

“What’s to fix?” she asked, turning away so he wouldn’t see the way his words made her heart sink. She forced herself to laugh. “Max, we had sex. It was good sex. It was something I really needed. I was under the impression that you maybe enjoyed it a little bit, too.”

“I’m not quite sure enjoyed is the right word.”

“Oh,” she said. Now she really didn’t want to look at him. “I thought...” But then she had to face him. She had to know. “Are you embarrassed because you—”

“No,” he said. “Yes.” He closed his eyes. “Gina, no, the sex was great. The sex was...” He looked at her and held her gaze. “You know it was incredible. It was unbelievable. And it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“Why? And if you say transference, I swear, I’m going to scream.”

“Because a day and a half ago, I asked Alyssa Locke to marry me.”

“Mary Lou, I’m going to call you back in a few minutes, okay?” Alyssa hung up the phone and turned to Sam. “She seems to think there’s a serious and immediate threat, and I have to agree. Ihbraham Rahman drove from San Diego, where we know he was being followed. It stands to reason that he was followed all the way here.”

Sam nodded. “I agree.” He glanced at her. “Go ahead. Call for backup—that’s what you want to do, right?” It wasn’t the way he’d wanted it to go down, but he’d rather have Haley frightened than dead. He dug for his own phone.

Alyssa was already dialing hers. “Praise God for his creation of intelligent, reasonable men.”

He had to laugh. “Are you talking about moi? Fuck me, I wish you could time travel and say those very words to yourself, oh, about three years ago.”

“Well, I can’t time travel, but I can— Yeah, Jules. Big news. We’ve found Mary Lou. Or rather, she found us. We need heavy backup at this address.”

As she rattled the info off, Sam dialed his phone.

“Who are you calling?” Alyssa asked. “Better not be CNN.”

“Noah and Claire,” he told her. “I’m going to ask them to meet us over there, to take custody of Haley.”

Jesus, he was going to see his daughter again in just a few minutes.

Alyssa was back on with Jules. “We’re about twenty-two minutes away. It’s going to take you longer to get there—you’re much farther north. Can you get choppers?” Pause. “What do you mean no? I don’t care who’s in town! Get Max on the phone. He’ll get us the choppers.”

Claire was waiting outside as Noah pulled in to the nursery school parking lot.

“I brought a map,” she said as she climbed in and fastened her seat belt. “What’s the address?”

He held out his left hand—he’d written the street address Ringo had given him on his palm.

“And the deal is we connect with Ringo,” Claire said, leafing through the map book, “we take a little time—just a little—for Haley to get comfortable with us, and then SEAL-boy and Mary Lou turn themselves in to the authorities?”

“That’s right.” Noah backed out of the spot.

“And we don’t find ourselves slapped with aiding and abetting charges when Ringo changes his mind?”

“He’s going to turn himself in.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She snorted. “Why do I find that hard to believe? I don’t think he’s ever done anything the easy way. And that sounds way too easy for Ringo.”

“High adventure does seem to follow him around,” Noah agreed. “I think it’s because he’s always operated at full speed and a hundred and fifty percent effort. He may get into trouble faster than some people, but once he gets there, he works his butt off to get out of it.” He laughed. “His life is never boring, that’s for sure.”

Claire shot him a look. “And yours is?”

He didn’t think he’d sounded even the slightest bit envious—he really was just making a statement about Ringo. “No, no,” he said. “Trust me, I don’t need to be on the FBI’s wanted list to feel fulfilled.”

“Wait,” Claire said. “Go back. I forgot. If we’re going to take that little girl home with us, we’re going to need a car seat. I’ve got an extra inside the church.”

Noah went around the block and pulled back in to the church parking lot. “Hurry,” he told her.

Gina stared at Max. He’d asked Alyssa Locke to marry him. There was absolutely nothing she could say in response to that. Except, “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t think of her once last night. I mean, I just didn’t even think of her. It was like she didn’t exist.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed, unable to stop her eyes from filling with tears. She, too, hadn’t thought even once last night of anyone but herself and Max. And not even so much of Max. Oh, God... “Maybe if you explain, she’ll understand.”

“Yeah,” Max said. “Well. She’s known about you for a while. And she does understand, maybe a little too well. She says she wasn’t going to marry me anyway, so...”

Oh, God. “I’m so sorry,” Gina said.

“I don’t know. She’s probably right, that the reason I asked her in the first place was to force myself to stay away from you—yeah, that worked, huh? But I wouldn’t have asked her if I didn’t honestly want her to...” He shook his head. “I want you to know that I didn’t intentionally set out to hurt her or you or... I should have slowed down, because obviously I was unable to think clearly, and I should have. I should have thought it through. What kind of excuse is ‘I didn’t stop and think’? A goddamn lame one. And the truth is, there’s no excuse good enough. What I did was absolutely unforgivable.”

He really believed that. He was wrecked about this. Gina had used him to try to repair herself and had ended up hurting him more than she could have imagined. “I seduced you, Max. I kissed you first.”

He laughed. “Yeah, excuse me, but I had a choice. I chose to stay.”

“Why?” she asked him, forcing herself to look up at him. She suspected she already knew the answer, and sure enough, there it was in his eyes. She answered for him. “Because I needed you.”

“No,” Max said. “Because I wanted to.”

He was so lying. Even his being here right now had obligation written all over it. Or maybe he wasn’t technically lying. Maybe he wanted to stay because he knew how much she’d needed him.

Which wasn’t a good enough reason, when it came down to it. She’d thought it would be, but it wasn’t. Especially knowing that he really was in love with Alyssa, enough to want to marry her... Oh, God. Her heart was breaking for him, for Alyssa...

For herself.

“So where do we go from here?” Max asked quietly.

He was serious. He honestly didn’t know that the answer was nowhere. They went absolutely nowhere.

“I’m going home to New York tonight,” Gina said, “and you’re in the middle of a situation.”

“I’m going to have some, uh, time off,” he said, “starting somewhere between now and the end of the month. Is there any chance we can get together then?”

He was serious. But then again, with his need to take care of and protect everyone he’d ever met, he probably meticulously followed up on all of his one-night stands. A phone call. A lunch date. Periodic check-ins.

This was so not the way she’d imagined this would happen. She’d fairy-taled it completely in her personal fantasy version. Max should have come pounding on her door to tell her that he couldn’t live without her, that he loved her.

Not that he was in love with Alyssa and that since sleeping with Gina had completely blown his chances with her, he might as well make plans to see Gina again.

“Get together?” she asked, one part of her wanting to torment him. “You mean, like, hook up? Have sex again?” She knew damn well that he meant have lunch.

And he knew it, too. He just looked at her.

“You mean in Africa?” she asked. Now that she’d started, she was unable to stop. She’d wanted him to love her. “Because I’m leaving for Kenya next week.”

Max looked stunned. It was remarkable. She didn’t think he did stunned to that extreme. “You’re not... You’re still planning to go?”

“Uh, yeah.” she said, more anger creeping in around the hurt. “What did you think, Max? I’d spend one night with you and then change my plans for the next year of my life, so I could rush home and stay by the phone, hoping you’ll call when you have some time off? In between your meetings with your wedding planner?” That last comment was a little too sharp, and she stood up, hating the idea of dissolving into jealousy. All she really had right now was her dignity. Well, what little of it there was left. “Max, I don’t know why you’re here with me. You should be talking to Alyssa. I mean, if you really wanted to marry her...”

“Gina—”

“Talk to her. Make her change her mind.” Gina opened her door and he took it as the invitation it was. Time for him to leave. “Tell her I’m sorry. Because I am. I’m really sorry.”

“She’s not going to change her mind. I don’t want her to change her mind.”

Oh, the hope that crashed through her at those words was remarkable. She almost threw herself into his arms, until he added, “I want to fix this, between us. I need to make sure you’re all right. Some of the things you said last night—”

She cut him off. “I said I’d go back into therapy.”

“You’re going to find a therapist in Africa?”

“Yeah, you know, I’m betting there actually are one or two people with degrees in Kenya.”

“This isn’t a good time for you to leave the country,” Max told her grimly, as his cell phone started ringing. It was amazing it had gone that long without making any noise.

“Thank you for your concern,” she said. “I have to finish packing now and you need to take that call.”

He moved toward the door, but stopped right next to her, inches from her. And he waited until she looked up, into his eyes.

“The bitch of it is, I still want you,” he whispered. “I’ve screwed everything up, but nothing’s changed at all. I’m still dying for you, Gina.”

The heat in his eyes was incredible, and Gina was sure he was going to kiss her. Kiss her and strip her robe from her and...

But he went out the door and headed for his car, phone still ringing, without looking back.

“Hey,” she called, since it seemed as if he wasn’t intending to answer his phone.

He stopped, turning around only slightly, so that he couldn’t quite see her, but so that she knew he was listening.

“If you still feel that way next year, when I get back,” she said, her voice shaking only a little, “maybe you should give me a call.” She cleared her throat. “You know, provided you haven’t proposed marriage to anyone else in the meantime.”

He turned all the way around. “Gina, I’m so sorry.”

“I am, too,” she said. She wished he would kiss her good-bye, but she knew it was too much to ask—of herself as well as him. “Thank you for last night.”

He obviously couldn’t deal with her thanking him, so he got into his car, finally answering his phone.

Gina watched him back out of his parking spot and pull out of the lot, tires squealing. She watched until he was out of sight, which didn’t take long at all.

Wherever Max was going, he sure was in a hurry to get there.

Or maybe he was just in a hurry to leave.

“My heart is pounding out of my chest,” Sam said “at the thought of seeing Haley again.”

Heavy traffic had them stopped. He was trying to pull right so he could take a side street, but the cars in front of them just weren’t moving.

“Don’t expect too much,” Alyssa warned him.

“I won’t but, ah, Lys, what if she hates me?”

Oh, Sam. “I don’t think kids that little have been taught how to hate yet.”

“What do I say to her?”

“Well,” she said, “before you even open your mouth, you need to do an immediate fuck-ectomy of your vocabulary.”

He laughed. “Fuck-ectomy. I like that. Okay. Fuck-ectomy in progress.”

“Part of doing it means you can’t say fuck-ectomy anymore.”

“I have a feeling I’m not going to say much of anything anymore,” he pointed out dryly. “So the you-know-what’s complete. What do I say? ‘Hi, Haley, I’m your daddy. Boy, have I missed you.’ ”

“That’s good. Don’t ask her if she remembers you—you’ll both feel bad when she says no.”

“When,” he said. “Yeah. Yeah. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this nervous.” He glanced at her. “I’m nervous, too, about you meeting her. I know you said your feelings for Haley were mixed—”

“Not about loving her,” Alyssa told him. “I’m going to love her. That’s why babies are so cute. So everyone automatically loves them.” She laughed. “Everyone with a heart, that is.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s a story there?”

Because he’d spent the past few days talking to her, and listening while she talked. Because he knew her.

“Yeah,” she said. “Well...”

“Let’s have it.”

“Well, it was after my mother died,” Alyssa told him.

“Why do I already have the urge to kill someone?” he asked.

“We went to live with my father’s sister—Tyra, Lanora, and I,” she said. “It was a pretty stressful time—on top of the grief and loss—because my aunt Joyce kept saying that she was going to take only Tyra and me. That Lanora had to go live with my mother’s cousin. I practically had to go to court to keep us together.”

“Mmph,” Sam said.

Alyssa looked at him.

“I can’t say anything,” he told her, “because I want to say what the fuck was wrong with her?”

“Lanora wasn’t my father’s child,” Alyssa told him. “That was what was wrong with Aunt Joyce. Apparently this was why my parents broke up. My mother was unfaithful, she got pregnant, and when my father found out, he left her. Us, too, though, you know? Which was kind of unfair. I didn’t know anything about any of this at the time. I just knew that one day he was there, and the next he was gone. But Aunt Joyce, well, she was a little too happy to fill me in. She told me Lanora couldn’t live with us because of that, because she felt no responsibility toward her.”

“Grphh,” Sam said.

“I remember I just kind of looked at her, and said, ‘But she’s still my sister.’

“And Aunt Joyce said—I remember this as clear as yesterday—she said, ‘When you’re older, you’ll understand.’ ” Alyssa shook her head. “Joyce ended up taking Lanora, too, because Tyra and I weren’t going anywhere without her, but she never gave her any affection. That sweet little baby... My mother’s transgressions were not her fault, but Joyce constantly held it against her. I’m much older now, and the only thing I fully understand is how completely wrong Joyce was. She shouldn’t have taken us in if she couldn’t love us all. And believe me, it wouldn’t have been hard for her to love Lanora. It must’ve been a lot of work to stay that hard and cold. But she cared more about blaming my mother—for everything from my parents splitting up to my father’s death—than she cared about the welfare of an innocent child.”

Sam had managed to make the right turn and was now barreling down side streets, trying to make up for lost time. But he still glanced over at her. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“So I’m going to love Haley,” Alyssa said. “Because she’s not responsible for Mary Lou’s mistakes, or your mistakes, or my mistakes. And I’m going to love her twice as much because she’s yours. But you need to know, Sam—I’m not going to take care of her for you. When she’s with you, she’s with you. I’ll help, and I’ll be her favorite aunt Alyssa. I’m good at that. But if you really want her in your life, you’re going to have to be her father for real.”

“That’s, um, some of the best news I’ve had all day—the fact that you seem okay with the idea of spending time with me and Haley.” He glanced at her again. And then, almost as an afterthought, he matter-of-factly added, “I love you so much, Lys, sometimes it takes my breath away.”