Carly's little body twitched in her sleep. The sheets of her bed were wrapped around her tiny legs. Sweat beaded across her forehead and her hair was plastered against her face. She grunted.

It was dark. So dark. Dark and eerie. She heard the sound of footsteps. They were her father's. But if she listened carefully she could hear another set of steps. There was someone else in the house with her father. He wasn't alone. She could hear the footsteps receding up the stairs to the attic. Then they faded off.

Carly heard the terrifying echo of her mother's screams. Her father's shouts were deafening and frightening. She wanted to run, but she had to stay safe. She was certain that no one would find her here. But they had. Her father had. She could see his face so clearly in her mind. She felt the steel band of his fingers as they clutched her frail arm and drug her to the bed. She felt the pressure of his body as he pinned her to the mattress and forced her to take those pills.

Then her father took her by the arm and slung her onto the floor. He grabbed her by the wrist and propelled her through the living room. She kicked the end table by the couch. The lamp tumbled to the floor and crashed loudly splintering into thousands of pieces. She pushed herself free, but her father caught her and slammed her against the wall. That's when the picture fell. Finally he had subdued her, cast her over his shoulder as he hauled her into the kitchen.

Carly woke with a scream at the bloody images inside her head. Her body shuddered. She reached for her pink bunny and held it firmly to her chest. She stared at the ceiling. She couldn't closer her eyes. She wouldn't close her eyes again. She never wanted to go back to that place. Ever.

It was two in the morning and Dean couldn't sleep. He'd tried to close his eyes, but all he kept seeing was Aadan Singleton's face staring back at him. He'd identified the body at the morgue. Aadan was dead. And Dean wasn't happy about it.

He tried to push away the negative thoughts, but they kept coming back. He kept thinking of Carly and wondered if there was any way of getting her out of this mess. And any time he thought of Carly, he couldn't help but think of Cynthia Kendall.

He hadn't handled their last meeting very well. He'd been a little rough with her and very abrupt. He hadn't meant to be so cruel. And he felt bad for the way he had treated her.

God,

Please forgive me for the way I have behaved. I am not in control of this situation. But you are. Please help me to find a way out of this before any more lives are lost. Please keep Cynthia safe and help Carly to get out of that place. Help me to find the answers that I need. Amen!

Dean wasn't sure that praying was going to get him what he needed, but his father had always taught him that even in the worst of circumstances God was always there. He had to continue to believe that. He couldn't turn his back on his faith. It's all he had. Right now the forces were bigger and far worse than he could ever imagine. Dean knew the only one he could count on at a time like this was God.

As he laid there listening to the constant ticking of his alarm clock, Gil shut his eyes tightly against the anguish that consumed him. Cynthia kept fading in and out of his thoughts like a sickness he couldn't shake.

He rolled over in bed and tossed the covers over his head to shield the moonlight coming through the window in his bedroom. The ticking of the clock grew louder. Her could smell the soft hint of apples. It was the scent he remembered from his first meeting with Cynthia.

He heard the softness of her voice as she spoke. Her hair was blowing gently in the wind and the sun cast a golden glow about her shoulders. She moved with a swiftness and a self-assurance that couldn't be compared to anyone else in the world.

Cynthia was a lovely woman. Purely feminine in every sense of the word. Dean was paralyzed by everything about the woman. She was as perfect as a person could be.

Dean shot up in bed, breaking out in a cold sweat. His breathing accelerated and his heart thumped so hard he felt himself on the verge of a heart attack. It was always like that when he thought of Cynthia. She did something to him that no woman had ever been able to do.

Dean got up to get a glass of water. He filled the glass, took a drink, then set the glass back down with more force than he had meant to.

He paced the living room trying to quell the thoughts in his head. But memories of Cynthia continued to haunt him. She was like a demon. She was poison to him. He couldn't get her out of his system. She was driving him mad. He was one step away from insanity. He knew that with the next breath he took, he could just slip into oblivion and never return.

Was this what love was like? If so, how did anyone ever survive it?

When he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he returned to his bedroom. He picked up the phone and dialed Cynthia Kendall. The phone range only twice when she snatched it up.

“Hello.”

Dean gripped the phone with white knuckles. The blood roared in his ears. His throat was dry. He really needed that glass of water now.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

At last Dean was able to find his voice. “Cynthia, this is Dean. Dean Gilmore.”

For a moment she didn't say anything. She just sat there in the dark listening to the pounding of her heart. “Yes, Dean. Is something wrong with Carly?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called this late. It's crazy, I know.”

He was rambling. Not making any sense at all.

“Then what is it?” Cynthia asked in a whisper.

“Were you sleeping?” he questioned after a brief moment. “Maybe I shouldn't have called.”

Cynthia sighed heavily in frustration. “Dean, I wasn't sleeping. I've been sitting up all night thinking about the things that you said to me. I can't seem to stop thinking about them.”

“I know,” he said bitterly. “I was wrong the way I handled things. I regret the way I behaved and I'm sorry Cynthia.”

“I understand,” she confessed. “You've been under a lot of pressure lately. And watching your fellow officers . . .” Cynthia couldn't finish her sentence. It was best that some things be left alone. “Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything.”

It was awkward. What did they have to talk about? What was Dean doing calling her at this time of night? It was true that she'd been lying awake. She'd been thinking of all the things that had suddenly seemed to go wrong in her life. She had prayed about. She had prayed without ceasing. Maybe this was God's answer. She was confused, tormented. She couldn't block the images of Dean Gilmore from her mind. She loved him.

She didn't know when, how or why it had happened. But she was truly and irrevocably in love with the man.

“Dean, is there anything I can do for you? Was there a reason why you called me this late at night?”

The laugh that escaped him was weak and hollow. “As a matter of fact, there is. I'm crazy about you, Cynthia. I want to see you again. I need to see you again. Right or wrong. I can't live another minute without seeing you.” There was only the slightest hesitation before he spoke again. “I know I don't deserve anything from you. But I'm asking for a second chance. I know this isn't a good idea. It goes against all rationale, but . . .”

“When?” It was a simple question. One that Dean couldn't comprehend.

“When? When what?”

Cynthia laughed. “When would you like to see me again, Silly?”

He hadn't thought it would be that easy. He hadn't thought at all really. He had just reacted spontaneously. Now that she had asked, he didn't know what to say. Finally his head cleared and he replied, “How about tomorrow. I have to meet with Carly. I'd like for you to be there. I have some news about her father that I think she needs to hear.”

It really wasn't what Cynthia was expecting but at least they would get some time together. She'd be a fool to pass up the opportunity. She was afraid there wouldn't be many more to come.

“Afterwards,” Dean continued, “maybe we can go to the park and have a picnic lunch together. How would that sound?”

“It sounds perfect.” She smiled through the phone and Dean could sense the change in her tone. His heart jumped a beat. “I'll make some sandwiches, throw in some fruit and cheese, a bottle of wine.” She stopped in the middle of her sentence. “Forget the wine. That's a bad idea.”

“The wine will do just fine,” Gil exclaimed cheerfully. “I'd like that very much.”

“Are you sure?”

It was Dean's turn to smile. Though she couldn't see him, he shook his head. “Yes, I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Before Cynthia had time to question him, he said good night and hung up the phone. He hadn't been speaking of the wine and he was sure Cynthia was fully aware of that fact. He just wasn't prepared to discuss it. It was neither the time nor the place. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

Tomorrow he would tell Cynthia exactly what she meant to him.

Cynthia hung up the phone. She couldn't stop the racing of her heart. She fell back against the pillow rehashing all the things she and Gil had said. She couldn't believe her fate. She was giddy inside. She smiled and hugged the covers to her chest. Tomorrow she was going to see Gil and once and for all she was going to tell him how she felt about him. There would be no more secrets between them. She was in this for better or worse. What may come she would face it when the time came.

Chapter 7 Coming Soon.