The weight of the world lifted from her shoulders.

It was barely nine thirty and Erin was crawling into bed feeling like she could sleep for the next month and be just fine.

Matt emerged from the shower with one towel tied over his hips and another in his hand.

He took one look at her and stopped drying his hair. “You okay?”

“I’m exhausted.”

“That makes two of us.” He ducked back into the bathroom, lost the towel, and emerged in his boxer shorts.

Erin scooted over, leaving room for Matt to crawl in beside her. Once settled, she burrowed into the crook of his arm and latched on.

She could lie with her ear resting on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart . . . the air moving in and out of his lungs . . . for hours and never tire. Matt ran his fingertips along her arm in slow strokes. When he kissed the top of her head, Erin sighed.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“For trusting me . . . us. We’re going to get you through this.”

“I . . .” don’t deserve you. She shook the negative thought away before she said it out loud. “I come with more baggage than a reality star on Paradise Hotel.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth it.”

She lifted her head to see his eyes. “Really, Matt. I should be apologizing. I brought all this on you and your family just by being here.”

“You can apologize, but I’m not going to accept it. You aren’t the problem, he is. Taking him out of the shadows and giving us a face and a name to the person who has haunted you gives you the power. If he’s in this town, we’ll find him.” He kissed her forehead and encouraged her to lie back down.

Erin sighed in the comfort of his arms. “And then what? It’s not a crime to be here.”

“We file a police report, give them Desmond’s name, location, and history. The only business he has here is to screw with you. He took it to a new level when he targeted three other women in this family. He might have gotten away with what he did to you all those years, but he won’t get away with this now.”

“Right after I left, when I was absolutely certain that everyone I came in contact with could see through my fake name and bad hair color, I would dream about him finding me. Each time he dragged me away from the life I was trying to create and lock me in the house. Only recently did those dreams change.”

Matt held her tighter. “How so?”

“I pull away . . . yell and scream. I fight back. In my dreams I fight back. I never did when I was with him.” Not once. Every day she told herself she would, and every day she cowered and protected herself by lifting her arms to keep her face from taking the brunt of his attacks. When he was done she would clean herself up, put on broad-rimmed sunglasses, and avoid anyone she knew. She adopted lies about her injuries and knew when people saw through her.

“Your dreams should be a testament to who you are now. Maci was a victim. Erin is a fighter.”

Something about Matt’s statement punched right into her solar plexus. Gooseflesh rose up her spine and down her arms. Once again she lifted her head from his chest and looked at him. “You really think so?”

Matt smiled. “Don’t you? Maci took the path of least resistance. Even if it involved pain. Erin forged her own path and isn’t afraid of saying no.” He pressed a finger to her chest. “She’s pretty badass, if you ask me.”

Not once in her entire life had anyone ever referred to her as badass. “You make me feel things I never have before.”

He reached for her face and tilted his head. “I don’t hold the monopoly on that.”

Erin reached for his lips with hers and fell a little deeper into the vortex she called Matt.

“You have nothing on this phone. How is that possible?” Grace sipped on her second glass of wine while they waited for their food. Already her cheeks were flushed and her laugh came easy. The phone he’d purchased two weeks before was free of everything but what the manufacturer loaded in at the factory. Grace attacked it with both thumbs as she downloaded a dating app to help Dylan discover the love of his life.

“I find people who spend all day on these things annoying.”

Grace shrugged. “A sign of the times, I guess. Human contact is taken in small doses.”

Desmond frowned. “That’s unfortunate. I’m rather fond of human contact.”

Grace looked over the top of the phone and grinned. “If you’re going to flirt with me, is there a reason to download this?”

Women are so easy.

“You’re much too put together for someone like me.”

Her brow furrowed. “Pretty sure that’s a line.” She went back to clicking away on the phone.

“I might have a few I can dust off and use,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, and Desmond’s jaw started to hurt as he ground his teeth together. Nothing was more disrespectful than an eye roll.

“We need a picture.” Grace lifted the phone and pointed it at him. “Smile.”

“We’re in a restaurant.” A five-star one at that.

“People take pictures of their food all the time. Smile.”

He put a hand in front of his face. “We can do that later. Outside.”

She relented. “Okay, fine. What are your hobbies?”

The waiter showed up with their salads, which forced Grace to set his phone down. When she turned to ask the waiter for more water, Desmond slipped the phone off the table.

She filled her fork with lettuce and lifted it to her mouth. “I saw that.”

While she chewed, Desmond talked. “What are your hobbies?”

For three courses he asked questions and she answered them . . . elaborately. She spent time at Dodgers games and occasionally camped with her family. Once she mentioned her brothers, Desmond pried. He already knew about the man screwing his wife. The other one, he’d seen going in and out of the property where Maci lived. The home with gates and cameras and signs that said “No Trespassing” and “Beware of Owner.” Why couldn’t Maci have rented a normal home on a simple street? One where he could walk in the back door and drag her back where she belonged.

“I feel like I lost you right then,” Grace said, bringing him back to the room.

Desmond put his fork down, found the smile he’d placed on his face since walking in the restaurant, and did all he could to direct it at Grace. He knew how to make her believe she was the only woman in the room. “I’m fascinated. A successful woman who’s comfortable in her own skin who watches baseball. You’re quite a catch, Grace.”

She laughed a little too loud, and Desmond had to stop himself from looking around the room to see if anyone was watching them. He hated loud women. Despised them.

“Tell the single men in this town that.”

He leaned forward and placed his hand next to hers on the table. “Their loss. My gain.”

“That’s another line, isn’t it?”

“Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes but then brought them back to his.

Yeah, it was working.

They stepped out of the restaurant, which sat right outside the city’s mall. Across the street was the only decent hotel in town.