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“I can’t win with you. I will date. Eventually. Maybe.”

“That’s my point. Maybe you should hire an escort. Then at least you’ll know he’s safe and you can fuck him all night long without strings.”

Coughing, I started laughing so hard tears filled my eyes. The woman could always put me in a better mood.

When I heard my phone ringing at the same time that I noticed Kathy pulling in, I pointed my finger at her again. “You get to finish making the drinks and let Kathy in while I take this.”

“They’ll be strong.”

“What do you think a martini is, goofy?” I laughed and grabbed my purse from where it was hanging, pulling out my phone. I was halfway into my office before I glanced at the caller. The area code was Seattle.

I was forced to sit into my desk chair, convincing myself I needed to take the call even as a cold shiver drifted down my spine. “Hello?”

“Ms. Young, this is Detective Drake Finley. Do you remember me?”

“I’m not certain I could forget you, Detective. What can I do for you?” A cold shiver skated down my spine. If it hadn’t been for his tenacious determination, I would be dead.

“How have you been?”

Was he really calling to ask me that? “Fine. Now, I’m in the middle of a dinner party so if you don’t mind, please let me know why you’re calling. As you might imagine, I want to put the past behind me and that’s been tough.”

“I’m sure it has. Maybe this will make things easier on you. James Jones has finally been captured.”

My ears were ringing, my mind a foggy mess. “What did you say?”

As he repeated the news, I was certain I’d been pushed back into the Twilight Zone. For just a few seconds, a rolling horror movie of images flashed into my mind, the violence and anger, the look in the psycho’s eyes and the way he touched me enwrapping me in the terror all over again. And for those few wretched moments, I was the lost woman who’d fought to remain alive, escaping the horrors that had been inflicted on her.

“He can’t hurt you any longer, Ms. Young.”

He had no understanding the bastard had already taken the kind of toll that could never be fixed.

“Thank you, Detective. I really appreciate you calling.” I ended the call while he was still saying something, holding onto the phone and staring into space. I stood still for at least five minutes, doing what I could to process what I’d heard.

I was nauseous but giddy, uncertain but elated. Yet still terrified, as if the fucker’s hold would never leave. A bead of perspiration trickled down the side of my face. A drink. Maybe a drink would help.

While I couldn’t feel my feet, I knew I was walking from the room, the death grip remaining on my phone.

I stopped short of rejoining my friends as the final real vision I’d seen of the Claw rushed into the forefront of my mind.

“Just when you least expect it, I’ll be there. And the next time you’re in my arms, you will. Never. Ever. Escape.”

No. Fucking no. The bastard wasn’t going to take any more of me than he already had. I refused to allow it. With my head held high, I moved into the area just beyond the kitchen, where my two best friends, women who’d cried with me, celebrated with me, held me when I’d had night terrors, and shared dozens of bottles of wine over the years stood laughing and chatting.

When Zoe finally noticed me, she almost dropped her glass. “Oh, my God. What’s wrong? You’re white.” She walked closer and so did I. I shifted my gaze to Kathy, the girl who’d stuck a stick under my ass every time I’d wanted to give up writing, reminding me that the moment I threw in the towel, James Jones had won the evil game he’d been playing. Thank God I’d hired her as an assistant.

“Hey, girlfriend,” as Kathy liked to call me. “Talk. Come on. This is supposed to be a celebration.”

“We can add something to the list.”

Zoe glanced at Kathy before both walked closer, Zoe handing me my martini glass. I wasn’t a heavy drinker even though at times I’d wanted to get lost in a bottle but at that moment, I didn’t give a shit if I was criticized. I downed the entire drink in a few gulps. When I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, I was certain Zoe was going to fall over.

“Okay, girlfriend. If you don’t spill it, I will never speak to you again.” Zoe’s tease almost always worked.

I looked from one to the other. “The detective who found me that night in the woods in the horrible storm called.”

Kathy swallowed, her face now paling. “And?”

“He told me that James Jones had been tracked down and captured. He’s currently in custody in lockdown. He said the nightmare is finally over.” The man had easily gotten away with his crimes, hiding in another part of the world. He was the true epitome of a sociopath, blending in and even thriving in normal society.

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