Chapter 1

The third time Martin Vance locked me inside the psychiatric facility, he locked himself into the room next door with his own hands.

"This time I'll stay with you."

He looked at me through the iron door, his shirt a wrinkled mess, his voice low and rough.

"Satisfied now?"

I sat on the hospital bed, the IV catheter from the sedative still taped into the back of my hand, and couldn't manage a smile.

Seven years.

He kept saying I was sick, and kept refusing to let me go.

I used to think that was the most twisted and the most unbreakable thing between us.

Until today, when he shut himself in of his own accord, just to beg one thing of me.

"Bella White's pregnant. The doctor says she can't be frightened."

"Stop going after her."

I stared at him and asked quietly, "You're locking me up because you're afraid I'll hurt her?"

He said nothing.

I turned my head toward the window and thought back over these seven absurd years.

The first time they put me in here was because I said Bella had tampered with my medication.

No one believed me.

The second time was after I lost the baby and wouldn't let go of its little clothes.

He said I couldn't accept reality.

Now, the third time, he finally believes I'm not crazy.

He's just afraid I'll hurt Bella.

I slowly pulled the needle out of the back of my hand. A bead of blood rolled free.

Martin's face changed. "What are you doing?"

"Martin, the only sickness I ever had was you."

"And now it's cured."

...

Martin shouted for someone to unlock the door like a man gone mad, rushed in, and gripped my arm.

He grabbed a cotton swab and pressed it to stop the bleeding, the pain in his eyes plain to see.

Then he turned and told the nurse, "Add another pill to her dose. She's still unstable."

The nurse pinched my chin and checked under my tongue, and only after making sure I hadn't hidden the pill did she step aside.

Martin stood in the doorway, watching me coldly.

"Learned your lesson this time?"

I nodded.

He froze.

He seemed to be waiting for me to do what I'd done the first two times, to curse him for a bastard while I begged him not to treat me this way.

But I just sat there.

The room reeked of disinfectant, and the pill dissolved in my throat, so bitter it went numb.

Martin bent down and took hold of my wrist.

He saw the bruise beside the needle mark, his eyes darkening for an instant, and stroked my hand gently.

"Anna Quinn, stop making trouble."

He lowered his voice.

"Bella's pregnant. The doctor says she can't be upset."

I raised my eyes. "You're really that afraid I'll go after her?"

He let out a small laugh.

"Aren't you always saying I only protect her and don't care about you?"

He lifted his hand, his fingertip brushing the corner of my lips.

"This time I'm staying with you. Satisfied now?"

He was always like this. A slap, then a sweet word.

That line used to drive me out of my mind.

I'd smash cups, bite his hand, demand to know how he could protect Bella and refuse to let me go all at once.

The truth is, I knew Martin loved me that way.

Wrecked, out of control, with no one in my eyes but him.

Once, after I'd cut my palm open, he bandaged it for me and murmured, "Anna, when you go mad like this, you really do love me."

Back then I cried until I shook, and somehow thought that if he was willing to hold me, I'd won.

Footsteps came from outside.

Bella braced herself against the door frame, pale-faced, one hand resting on her belly.

"Anna, I heard you pulled out your IV again today."

She looked at me, the rims of her eyes red at just the right amount.

"Don't hurt yourself like this."

Martin's gaze dropped back to the back of my hand.

Beside the needle mark was a spot of blood, already dry.

Bella shrank half a step behind him.

I knew that move well.

She shrinks, and Martin shields her.

Martin looked at me. "Apologize to her."

I asked, "Why?"

"You scared her."

Bella's voice was very small.

"It's all right, Martin. Anna didn't mean it. She just can't control herself."

Before, if I'd heard that line, I'd have flung myself off the bed to tear at her mouth and curse her with the filthiest words I knew.

Now I only spoke flatly.

"I'm sorry."

Martin stared at me, his face sinking bit by bit.

The nurse came in with fresh medication.

Martin glanced at it. "One more pill tonight."

The nurse hesitated. "Mr. Vance, Miss Quinn has been very quiet today already."

"Quiet doesn't mean cured."

Bella coaxed him gently. "Martin, don't be so harsh. You'll make Anna sad."

Martin watched me.

As if waiting for me to be sad.

But I only took the pills.

As the cup touched my lips, he suddenly pressed his hand over mine.

"Anna, you're really going to take them?"

I looked up. "Aren't you the one who told me to?"

His hand went stiff.

A few seconds later, he let go.

The pills slid down my throat.

Bella lowered her head and stroked her belly, the corner of her mouth twitching, just barely.

I saw it, but said nothing.