Remember When

couldn't-"
    "You came. You came when I needed you. Aren't I lucky to love two men who are there when I need them?"
    "I didn't know if I was coming back," he began.
    On a wave of tenderness, she brushed tears from his cheeks. "But you did, didn't you? Now you've got to go."
    "Lainie."
    "The police will be here any minute. I haven't gone through all this to see you arrested. Go.
    Before they come."
    "There are things I need to say to you."
    "Later. You can say them later. You know where I live. Please, Daddy, go."
    Max stepped back out with the phone to his ear. "Crew's secured. Laine's banged up but she's okay. Crew's going to need some medical attention. Laine and I'll wait here. What's your ETA?
    Good. We'll wait." He clicked off. "Vince and the rest of them will be rolling in. You've got about five minutes," he said to Jack. "Better get moving."
    "Thanks." Jack offered his hand. "Maybe you are-almost-good enough for her. I'll be seeing you.
    Soon," he added as he turned to Laine. "Soon, baby girl."
    "They're coming." She heard the sirens. "Hurry."
    "Take more than some hick cops to catch Big Jack O'Hara." He winked at her. "Keep a light burning for me." He jogged toward the woods, turned for a quick salute, then disappeared into them.
    "Well." Laine let out a long breath. "There he goes. Thanks."
    "For what?" Max asked as she kissed him.
    "For letting my father go."
    "I don't know what you're talking about. I've never met your father."
    On a muffled laugh, she rubbed her eyes. "I think I'm going to do that sitting-on-the-ground thing now."
    ***
    It wasn't difficult to win a debate about a visit to the ER with a man who was so relieved you were alive and whole he'd have given you anything you asked for. Laine took advantage of it, and of Vince's friendship, to go straight home.
    She'd be required to give a more complete statement to the chief of police the next morning. But he'd accepted her abbreviated account of events.
    She'd given it while she sat on the ground outside the cabin, with a blanket around her shoulders.
    Though she'd come through her ordeal with Crew with nothing more serious than cuts and bruises, she didn't object when Max cut off the police questioning, scooped her off the ground and carried her to his car.
    It gave her a lot of satisfaction to watch Crew hauled out on a stretcher.
    A lot of satisfaction.
    Jack O'Hara's daughter still had the moves.
    Grateful, was all Laine could think as she spent a full twenty minutes under the hot pulsing spray of the shower. She was so grateful to Max, to Vince, to fate. Hell, she was grateful for digital communication. So much so she was going to retire her cell phone, have it mounted and hung in a place of honor.
    And she would never drink cabernet again as long as she lived.
    She stepped out of the shower, dried herself gingerly. The numbness was long gone, and every bump, scrape and bruise ached like fury. She swallowed four aspirin, then gathered her courage and took a look at herself in the full-length mirror.
    "Oh. Ouch." She hissed out a breath as she turned for the rear view. She was a colorful mess of bruises. Hips, shins, knees, arms. And the beaut she'd predicted on her right cheek.
    But they'd fade, she thought. They'd fade and be forgotten as she went back to living her life. And Alex Crew would spend the rest of his behind bars. She hoped he cursed her name every day of that life. And she hoped he spent every night dreaming of diamonds.
    As a concession to the bruises, she dressed in loose sweats, tied her damp hair back loosely. As a concession to vanity, she spent some time with makeup to downplay the mark of violence on her face.
    Then she turned, spread her arms and addressed Henry, who'd shadowed her-even in the bathroom-since she'd retrieved him from Jenny's. "Not too bad, right?"
    She found Max in the kitchen, heating the contents of a can of soup on the stove. "Thought you might be hungry."
    "You thought right."
    He stepped to her, played his fingers over the bruise. "I'm sorry I wasn't faster."
    "If you're sorry, you're diminishing my own courage and cleverness and I've been congratulating myself on them."
    "Wouldn't want to do that, but I've got to say, I feel cheated. You robbed me of a chance to beat that son of a bitch into pulp."
    "Next time we deal with a homicidal sociopath, you can take him down."
    "Next time." He turned back to stir the soup. Laine linked her hands.
    "We've rushed into all this, Max."
    "Sure.have."
    "People...