“Rose, it’s me.”

My head dropped and I looked at the basin.

Beck.

I said nothing.

“I don’t got a lot of time. We don’t get a lot of phone calls and there’s a line behind me and they aren’t real patient.”

“Beck—”

“I seriously fucked up and I know it.”

God.

He so did.

But it was also so over so it didn’t matter.

“Beck—”

“Turned my stomach, layin’ hands on you. Almost got sick, watchin’ the boys go at you. Thought it was Cage you were doin’ it for and that was the only reason I got that fire in my belly, thinkin’ all we had was a lie and all the time we had together, your heart was with him. Still, shoulda never took it there. Never put my hands on a woman like that. Never thought I could be a man who would do that to a woman. Especially not the woman who meant somethin’ to me. Lay in this joint every night, not sleepin’, can’t get that shit outta my head, what I did to you. What I let them do to you. Even during the day, if I don’t fight it back, it gets stuck in my throat so bad, I can’t breathe.”

There was something there that he gave me, knowing this. Knowing I had not made an entirely stupid-ass decision letting him into my life and heart.

It still didn’t matter.

“Okay, but Beck—”

“I love you.”

Oh no.

“Beck,” I whispered.

“And I’m sorry.”

That had my head snapping up and I stared at the mirror unseeing, all his words during this phone conversation spiking through me.

“Beck—” I began urgently.

“Find a good one next time, baby,” he whispered, and now his words sent a chill through me.

“Beck!” I cried.

But he was gone.

I fumbled the phone, managing somehow to call Snapper.

It rang only twice when he answered, “Yo, Scully.”

“Beck just called,” I rushed out.

“Say again?” he asked, not sounding happy.

“I think from jail,” I told him.

“Jesus Christ,” he bit.

“No, Snap, he’s done something or he’s going to be doing something.”

“Honey, I told you that—” he began.

“No, no, no!” I cut him off frantically. “He said he loved me and he was sorry and he told me to find a good one and then he hung up on me.”

Snapper was silent.

Totally.

Just what I thought.

Damn it!

“Snapper!” I cried.

“Let me make some calls,” he said.

“He’s gonna rat,” I declared.

“Keep calm, Rosie, and let me make some calls.”

“It’s okay for me to do it, I mean, not okay as we learned all too well, but it is not okay for a brother to rat, Snapper.”

“Rosie, honey, let me go so I can make some calls.”

“He’ll be dead in a week.”

“Baby, letting you go now.”

“Get word to him. Tell him not to do it. Tell him I told him not to do it.”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t about him,” I said hurriedly. “It is, but it isn’t. In the world we live in, he can’t right the wrong he did me unless he lets justice serve. But not this way, Snap. Not this way.”

“I hear you, Rosie,” he said gently. “Now I gotta let you go, baby.”

“Okay, Snap.”

“Call when I know something,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Love you,” he finished.

“Love you too,” I replied.

He disconnected and I found it difficult to focus on mascara.

“I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul,” I whispered to my reflection, trying to get a hold on the panic. It just didn’t work when I concluded, “The problem is, so is he.”

I pretty much barreled down the drive at eleven-oh-seven that night, coming home after my shift, touching the garage door opener and making the swing into the garage.

And Snapper did not stay laid out on the couch with his book, only to look over the top of it when I hit the living room and give me warm, happy-you’re-home, now-get-over-here-and-cuddle-with-me eyes.

I hadn’t even pulled into the garage (next to his truck, by the way, he now had the second remote) when I saw him in the doorway to the kitchen.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted.

I couldn’t have my phone on me at work but I’d checked it during a break and I had a message from Snap saying he was still looking into things. But when I’d gone to get my purse after shift was over, I had another message from Snap saying, “I got the details, baby. Don’t think about it. It might not be as bad as you think. I’ll share when you get home.”

I did not drive home like the devil was on my heels because first, Snapper was there and it was worth getting home healthy and all in one piece, and second, I was not a big fan of drivers who drove like wherever they were going was more important than anything else happening on the planet, so I refused to be one of those kinds of people.

Nevertheless, I didn’t dawdle.