“How did you know where to find me?” I asked Super Agent while the paramedics did annoying things to me.

I was fine except for the fact that I smelled like chicken noodle soup and had mascara raccoon eyes. It was going to be nothing but waterproof mascara for me from now on.

We were outside of Daryl’s house, sitting in the back of an ambulance. Or at least I was. Super Agent leaned against the opening, watching me get poked and prodded. I’d tried to tell him that I was okay, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Finally the paramedics finished and declared me fit but recommended an overnight stay at the hospital to make sure. I declined before Super Agent could agree.

Super Agent picked a noodle out of my hair. “Your microphone was still transmitting. That was very clever of you to casually mention being in his childhood bedroom so we knew where to find you. We’d run out of leads.”

I’d totally forgotten about the microphone. “Yeah, I’m clever like that.”

“Scared twenty years off my life when you screamed and it cut out.”

“That would’ve been the hot soup.”

“And when he hit you…” I felt the look in his eyes deep in the pit of my stomach before he turned away and hid it from me.

I was in so much trouble with this man. Trouble in a good, scary way.

“How’d Daryl get me out of the store?” I asked to bring Super Agent’s attention back to me. I liked his attention way too much.

“The security cameras caught him wheeling you out on the office chair and right into the parking garage. We knew he’d taken you, but weren’t sure of where until you tipped us off.”

“Did you see what he had in the bedroom?”

“The photos? Yeah.”

“I can’t believe that I’ve known him for almost two years and had no idea what he was really like.”

“You never know what will set someone off. He has a history of mental illness, but nothing that would’ve given anyone a clue as to what he’d been planning to do.”

We both turned to watch another set of paramedics wheel Daryl out to a waiting ambulance. Daryl hadn’t regained consciousness since he’d hit his head. I tried to drum up some sympathy for him, but all I had was disgust. He’d killed Shasta and kidnapped me. Who knows how long he would’ve tried and what he would’ve done to make me love him. I shuddered at the thought.

“Hey.” Super Agent took my hand. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’ll live to make better mistakes tomorrow.”

“This isn’t your fault, Maggie. None of this is on you. You believe that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.” No. Not really.

“You knocked out another one. You’re getting really good at that, Knockout.”

“Not my fault. This one’s on you.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?”

Super Agent shrugged. “I hope so. I’m looking forward to what will happen to him in prison.”

“You have a very attractive revenge streak in you. I like it. A lot.”

He crossed his arms across his very broad chest, tucking my hand against his heart, and grinned at me. “Oh, yeah? How much do you like me?”

Aww, crap. The microphone. He’d heard me tell Daryl that I loved him. Dang technology!

“That’s not on tape anywhere, is it? I mean, please tell me it’s not going to be used as evidence in Daryl’s trial for the whole world to hear.”

“Oh, yes. It’s recorded.”

Dang. I really did have the worst luck.

He leaned forward, brushing his lips across mine. “I love you too, Knockout.”

“No duh. I can’t think of any other reason why you’d stick around and put up with my crap. It’s either that or you’re a masochist.”

“Maybe it’s a little of both.”

“Maybe.” I grinned up at him. “And that’s why I love you.”