Chapter 2

Rain misted the Manhattan streets, leaving a sticky residue on my skin and a strong aroma of wet asphalt and sadness.  I rushed unthinkingly through the night, my heart beating against my chest, dialing every significant number, every person who should have been awake and cared for.  Voicemail.   Voicemail.   More voicemails.  My hands shook so badly that I dropped my phone twice.   My bottom lip was covered with blood; somewhere along the line, I had bitten through it without realizing it.   Iron was harsh and hot on my lips.  "Come on, come on," I mumbled, fighting for air that wouldn't come.  Traffic whirled around me in white and red bands.   Horns screamed.   A car swerved and missed me by inches.   The driver cursed, hands banging across his dashboard, but I scarcely saw him.  My kid was gone.  Sadie was gone.  And that was my fault.  A black SUV came to a stop near me, its windows as dark as the eyes of a monster.  The passenger window hummed downwards.  "Kate Monroe?" a voice asked.  Low.   Unreadable.   Male.  I paused, panting and fighting against the wet cloth of my sweatshirt.  The man leaned slightly into the streetlight, allowing me to see his shapes.   Tailored black suit.   Unmoving stare.   There was no pity in those winter-gray eyes, only something colder.   Sharper.  "I know where Sadie is," he answered, his words cutting through the cacophony like a knife.  He did not beg or explain. He just stretched across the bench and pulled open the door.  Invitation or trap?  My fingers twitched by my side.   Every cell in my body screamed at me to run, fight, and claw my way out.   But every critical part of me the mother, the protector knew I didn't have that option.  Sadie was everything.  I glanced over my shoulder.  The world supplied nothing except vacant streets and onlookers who ignored a lady dying in plain sight.  Gritting my teeth, I slipped inside.  The door closed with a soft, cruel click.  "You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you," the man mumbled as the SUV blended into the traffic like smoke.  Silence curled inside the car, thick enough to choke on.  I shoved against the door, holding my useless, ringing phone.  "Ellis filed for emergency custody this afternoon," the guy explained, his gaze never leaving the road.   "They claimed you were unstable.   Dangerous."  The words struck harder than strikes.  "No," I replied.   "He wouldn't "  "Yes, he did. " State the truth.   Final.  I turned fully toward him, ready to spit fire, but his voice broke through again.  "Your daycare flagged your pick-up attempt because you were no longer listed.   The school's system froze.   You couldn't have gotten Sadie out even if you'd arrived in time."  My stomach turned violently.  "How do you know all this?"   My voice cracked.  He looked at me quietly and assessed.  "Because I blocked the petition."   Froze it before it reached the court system."  Suspicion grew, black and nasty.  "Why?"   I whispered.   "Why would you do that?"  His mouth twisted into a half-smile empty of feeling.  "Because you're more important than you realize."  We drove off the main street, tires crunching over the old cobblestone alley that cut across the houses like a scar.  At the end was a private elevator sleek, brushed steel with no marks.  Up. Up.  My ears popped due to the pace.   My heart would never stop beating.  When the doors slid open, it was like entering another universe.  The rooftop penthouse was simple, frigid, and magnificent. Its floor-to-ceiling glass walls surrounded a city so close you could scrape your fingers against its lights.  A mute housekeeper middle-aged and blank-faced whispered by us, bringing a tray of folded linen.   She disappeared into the service stairs without looking back.  Cole the stranger who somehow knew my name, kid, and failed world moved on quietly.  He opened a door off the main living area and moved back.  There.  Sadie curled up like a kitten on a leather couch, clutching her torn pink blanket.  Safe.   Asleep.   Breathing.  Before I knew it, I had fallen to my knees.  "Sadie," I gasped, holding her small hand to my chest.  Tears blocked my view.   Relief washed over me so vigorously that I shook.  I kissed her forehead again, repeating prayers I had stopped believing in years before.  Cole stood across the room, quiet, his hands tucked behind his back like a soldier on watch.  Gratitude burnt my throat.   Gratitude and something worse.   Something hungry.  Why didn't he call the police?  I got up shakily, Sadie still wrapped in my arms.  I confronted him.  "Why didn't you call the cops?"   My voice shook with anger.  Cole did not flinch.  He did not explain.  He stated, "Because people like me don't need police."  A beat of quiet.  "We handle things... our way."  The city shone gold and blue around us as I sat stiffly on the couch arm, unwilling to relax.  Cole put the whiskey into two tumblers.   He put one next to me.   I did not touch it.  "You look tired," he added softly.  I laughed without fun.   "I look destroyed."  He tilted his head, studying me like a half-finished jigsaw.  "What did Ellis enjoy most about you?" he asked.  The question was about a knife.  I looked out the window, chest hollow.  "That I was safe," I said finally.   "Predictable.   Manageable."  Cole leaned closer, his words slicing the space between us.  "You have kept yourself little for him.   That's over now."  Something scary appeared in the room.  "Why do you care?"   I asked the words cutting across the space between us.  He did not pause.  "Because I protect what's mine."  A pause.  "And now, you are."  Later, in the silence of the apartment,  Cole unlocked a door and slipped something toward me.  A picture.  Ellis.  Smiling.  With another lady.  Another kid.  Not me.  Not Sadie.  "This isn't his first family," Cole added.  His voice was dull, but the hurt inside was alive.  "My sister trusted the wrong man once," he stated.   "She vanished before I could stop it. " I told myself it wouldn't happen again."  The regret and anger emanated from him in waves.  I should have pulled away.  I should have protected myself.  But a broken part of me saw the sharp edges in him.  They matched mine.  Cole served me tea.  Not whisky.  Not Scotch.  Simple black tea, steaming in a china cup.  Our fingers touched as he gave it over.  A crackle of static leaped between us.  I drew away instinctively, my heart racing.  He did not reply.  Just waited.  For the first time in months, a guy touched me without squeezing or asking.  Without causing harm.  I swallowed the knot in my throat.  "What do you want from me?"   I whispered.  He moved closer.   His breath was so close that it made the hair at my temple stand up.  His voice became lower, deeper.  "Everything you're afraid to offer."  Cole gave me a big manila envelope as I grabbed Sadie in my arms and prepared to leave.  Inside: A contract.  Legal. Precise.  The title reads: Temporary Partner Agreement.  I scanned it with shaky hands.  Partnership. Residency. Protection.  Mutual appearances.  Control.  Ownership?  My stomach turned.  "This is a joke," I said, throwing the papers back at him.  He did not blink.  "You signed a marriage license five years ago," he explained quietly.   "This time, sign your freedom."  Clause 7 says that the customer cannot fall in love under any circumstances.  I gazed at it, a chill sinking into my bones.  I looked up at Cole.  "What happens if I do?"  He moved to me slowly and dangerously, as if each step showed something secret between us.  "If you do..."  He softly held my jaw and traced my lip with his thumb.  "You'll break more than the contract."  His eyes pierced me.  "You'll break me."  Behind the glass walls, the city hummed and moved.  Above us, a shutter snapped quietly.  Watching.  Waiting.  The true foe was only getting started.