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when I have to be.”
    And right now, he had to be.
    No matter what Catherine wanted to believe, no matter how she
felt, she and Eileen needed security at the old farmhouse. He was going to make
sure they got it, then he was going to go back to his vacation, back to his
empty house that desperately needed renovation and back to being alone.

FOUR
    N ew security system.
    New windows.
    New locks on the doors.
    Everything secure thanks to Personal Securities Incorporated.
The owner, Ryder Malone, had made sure of it. Catherine had met him while she
was in prison and had been surprised to see him again, but he knew his job and
he did it well, working with an efficient team.
    And with Darius.
    Darius.
    She shoved the name and the man from her mind, refusing them
the same way she refused the panic that edged up and threatened to spill
out.
    Locked in.
    Locked up.
    But all the locks and windows and security systems in the world
couldn’t make Catherine feel safe. She paced her room, the heat of the day still
thick in the battened-down house. Sweat trickled down her neck, and she pulled
at her tank top, tugging damp cotton away from sticky skin, aching to go outside
and sit on the front porch, let the evening air cool her, breathe in a little of
the freedom she’d thought she’d never have again.
    Now she had it, but fear held her prisoner.
    She hated it.
    Hated the weakness in her that had her pacing the room instead
of walking down the stairs, punching the code into the security system and going
outside. Her heart thumped and stuttered at the thought, and she walked to the
window, looked out over the front yard.
    The full moon bathed the yard in golden light and cast long
shadows across the grass. The whitewashed picket fence stood stark against the
gray-black landscape, the gate closed just the way it had been since the last
security team member had walked through it. Dark hair gleaming in the sunlight,
T-shirt clinging to broad shoulders and firm muscles, his limp barely noticeable
as he closed the gate and walked away.
    Darius.
    There in her mind again.
    She shoved him out again, because
he was just a man who’d happened to be in the right place at the right time to
save her. But he was still just a man, and men
couldn’t be trusted.
    She’d learned that the hard way.
    She didn’t plan to repeat the mistake.
    Her heart thumped again, her chest tight and aching.
    She needed fresh air.
    Now.
    She opened the window, stuck her head out to take in great
gulps of cool air. Late August in Pine Bluff and the scent of evergreen and
grass hung heavy in the still night. She’d craved this during her years of
incarceration, and she wouldn’t deny herself now. No matter the fear.
    She closed the window, eased open the bedroom door and crept
down the stairs, bypassing the two steps that creaked and walking softly across
the foyer. The hiss of Eileen’s air conditioner would probably drown out any
noise, but Catherine was careful anyway, punching in the security code to turn
off the system and stepping out into the chilly night.
    Freedom.
    It tasted sweet and fresh and clean, and Catherine lifted her
face to the moonlight, let it dance across her face. At moments like this, she
knew that God was there, just a prayer away, and she was tempted to reach for
Him, try to recapture the faith she’d had before she’d been accused of murder,
before she’d been betrayed by the man she’d loved, before her life had come
crashing down around her, all her dreams crashing with it.
    “Please, don’t take Eileen from me. Not yet,” she whispered,
her only answer the gentle breeze that rustled grass and leaves.
    She leaned against the porch railing, silence settling around
her as deep and thick as the darkness.
    A car engine drifted on the breeze, the sound growing louder
with every heart beat. Coming closer.
    Headlights splashed on the dirt road, and Catherine jumped
back, nearly falling into the open doorway in her haste.
    Close the