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moan of grief escaped my lips.  I hated what Winston had done to me.  I hated Winston. I hated my father and Bishop Talbot and Josiah Bastian and even my mother for her many weaknesses. I hated all of them. 
    And I realized I hated myself most of all.  
    The man who had caught my eye in the restaurant was coming down the hall toward the bathroom as I was exiting. He looked very strong.  The man glanced at me with curiosity but he quickly veered towards the men’s room.
    “Wait,” I croaked.  I didn’t have much time.  Winston would be coming for me soon if I did not return.  And I was so weak.  From hunger, from shock, from being used like a battering ram.  I kne w I wouldn’t be able to stop Winston from folding me back into the Escalade and taking me with him.  
    I stumbled and the man quickly caught me under the arms.  His face registered alarm as he pulled me up.
    “Hey there,” he said in a gentle, rich baritone.
    I looked him in the eye. I couldn’t even be sure he actually knew Rachel.  Or that he would be moved enough to get involved in what was obviously a messy situation.  But he was the only chance I had.  “My name is Promise Talbot.  Rachel Talbot is my cousin.”  Tears rolled down my face.  “I need help.”
    The man stared at me for the longest second I had ever known.  Then his deep brown eyes showed an instant decision.  He snapped his fingers and the second man, who was still sitting in the booth, turned and abruptly headed toward us.
    He looked me up and down in confusion.  “What you got there, Grayson?”
    “She says she’s Rachel’s cousin.”
    “Looks like she just walked off the set of Little House on the fucking Prairie.” 
    Grayson scowled, his eyes never leaving my face.  “Mad, come on.  Something’s off here.” His clipped accent was reminiscent of the handful of films I’d seen which took place in those churning cities of the northeast. 
    The man called Mad nodded at me.  “You really Rachel’s cousin?” 
    I nodded, swaying a little as Grayson tried to hold me steady. “Yes.  Can you take to me to her?  Please?”
    Grayson’s voice dropped and his dark eyes glanced around.  “You’re not here alone, are you?”
    Before I could shake my head and issue a warning, the door to Burger King opened and Winston Allred stalked inside. At the sight of me being held up by the leather-clad brown-skinned stranger his eyes went wide with rage. 
    But Winston was a man who could keep his evil hidden when he wanted to.  So he smiled icily and walked over, reaching for my hand.  “I’m afraid my wife isn’t used to his heat.” 
    As he came closer I issued an involuntary little moan and shrank against the strong arms which were the only things holding me up. 
    Grayson noticed.  I saw the way his eyes narrowed as he glared hatefully at my husband and I realized he might be capable of doing something violent.  Winston appeared to realize that too.  His extended hand wilted slightly. 
    Grayson’s voice was cold with threat.  “It looks to me the heat’s not all your wife can’t get used to.” 
    Winston kept his phony smile pasted to his face.  “Promise,” he said.  “We need to be leaving now.” 
    “No,” I whispered. 
    “What did you say?”
    “No,” I said again, my voice rising more clearly.  “Hell no.” 
    The other man, the one Grayson had called ‘Mad’, chortled in the background. 
    “Promise,” said Winston in a voice which dripped with venom.  “We are leaving.”
    Grayson spoke for me.  “Look asshole, I don’t know what your fucking game is here, but it’s over.  We all heard her refuse.”  He gently pushed me behind him and stood not six inches from my husband, glowering down at him.  Winston glanced uncertainly at me and then blinked up at Grayson.  The other man skirted casually behind him, standing close and with the silent promise of menace.  Winston’s fearful glance over his shoulder