"Okay. I think that's everything. Here are the keys. Just drop them off to the real estate agent tomorrow before you head to LAX. Remember, Jenna, your flight is at 11:30am. That will put you down at O'Hare at 5:00pm local time. I arranged to have a car waiting for you and it will take you to your apartment. Take the weekend off to get settled. Go explore the neighborhood and the city. We can get to work on my schedule and everything else on Monday." I said. "You know, Mackayla, one of the things you pay me for is to make travel arrangements. You didn't have to do all of this and find me a furnished apartment in Chicago." my Assistant, Jenna, replied. "Yeah, I did. I really did. I'm running away, back to Chicago, in mid-January and I'm asking you to leave sunny, warm L.A. to come with me. It's the least I can do." I replied, freezing when I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. "It's okay. It's just James and Chris out there. Remember, he can't get to you anymore. Hardly anyone knows where you are going. That's the reason why you're taking a private jet. No paparazzi to snap pictures of you at LAX or O'Hare. It's going to be okay." she told me with concern in her eyes.

I gave her a couple of more instructions, put on my large dark sunglasses, walked out the front door and hopped into the waiting SUV. I didn't look back at the house that had been my home, my sanctuary for the past five years. The home that I had always believed I was safe in until that night. A night I struggled to push to the back of my mind. It's not the time to think about that. I was pretty sure I was going to have to relive that night in detail after I got to Chicago. I might be a somewhat famous actress but I don't think my Uncle believed I was coming back to Chicago just to do research for my next role. A role I had already signed on for and now was costing the studio a ton of money because of rewrites and location changes. I informed them last week of my plan to head to Chicago for research. My agent then suggested they consider moving the movie production to Chicago. I hate anyone thinking I'm high maintenance and I was afraid I was going to end up with that reputation after this. My reputation is important to me. I strong believe in treating others the way I want to be treated. As a result of that belief I have become one of the most sought-after actresses in Hollywood over the past three years.

"We're here, Mackayla." The voice of Chris, my driver and number two bodyguard, said bringing me back to reality. I looked out the window to see photographers staked out at the hanger waiting for me. "Shit! Who the hell told the press where I was going to be?" I asked, almost on the verge of tears. "My guess would be either your agent or your publicist. You know they're afraid this move of yours will end up losing them a ton in commission money. They think Hollywood is going to forget about you. I heard what they told you earlier this week. You need to replace them. They don't have your best interests at heart. Now stay in the vehicle until I come around your side and get you out. I'll get you onto the plane safely, and we'll wait for Chris to join us there." my bodyguard James instructed me as his 6'3 muscular frame disappeared from the passenger seat of the SUV. I just sighed. James had been with me for six years, since my first movie, and as a result we had a very close relationship. We were friends and confidants. He was my sounding board a lot of the time. The door opened and James reached in to grab my hand and assist me out of the vehicle. Wrapping his right arm around me he used his left hand to encourage the photographers to back up. I kept my head down and moved forward towards the plane as quickly as my legs could carry me. When I reached the base of the stairs of the plane, I turned, took my sunglasses off, smiled and waved. I didn't answer any of the questions that were yelled at me but as I ascended the stairs I felt a chill come over me. He was out there watching me. I could feel it. I didn't look back again. I hurried through the door of the plane and took my seat.

After an uneventful plane ride we landed at O'Hare, hopped into another SUV and headed to my new condo in Chicago's Lincoln Park neighborhood. I texted Jenna to let her know I had arrived. She said the photos from the hanger at LAX had already been uploaded to the gossip websites with speculation as to the reason behind my great escape. One said Carter had broken up with me and I was going into hiding to recover from my broken heart. Little did they know I broke up with Carter a month ago, and it was more of a fling and not an actual relationship. Another website speculated I was going into rehab. What the fuck!? I've never been filmed or photographed drunk and I stay away from drugs. Whatever...I can't worry about that now. I then texted my Uncle to let him know I was back in the city I considered home. I was surprised to get an immediate response from him. He said he was wrapping up a case tonight but he expected to see me down at the 21st District at 10:30am the next morning. The last line of his text said, "Mac, I know why you've really come back. I wished you had called me when it happened. We'll discuss in the morning." Shit, I thought to myself as I typed a response. "Be safe. Love you." I said.

As we drove through the streets of Chicago I thought about my car ride through Chicago. I was so sad and cried in my Aunt's arms until I fell asleep before we even reached the house. I had grown up in Boston, where my Dad's family was from. Other than my Grandparents on my Dad's side and my Mom's sister, who lived in Chicago, I didn't have any other family. My parents died in a car accident when I was twelve. They had been hit head on by a drunk driver on their way home from dinner one night. My Grandparents were too old and too distraught to take in a pre-teen, so I was sent to live with my Mom's sister, my Aunt Camille and her husband Hank. I barely knew Camille and Hanke before they moved me to Chicago. They were wonderful to me from the start and my cousin Justin, their son, who was two years older than me was always such a pain in the ass. But he was pretty much the older brother I never wanted but apparently always needed. He taught me how to take care of myself and stand up for myself. After Camille passed away when I was sixteen I thought Hank would send me away, back to my Grandparents. I wasn't his blood, so why should he keep me? He reminded me every day, even when he was grieving for my Aunt, that I was family and I belonged with my family...with him and Justin.

I never talk about my family or discuss them by name in interviews. All anyone knows is my parents died when I was young. That's it. My publicist and I work very hard at keeping my private life exactly that – private. Uncle Hank is a Sargent with Chicago P.D.'s Intelligence Unit and I was careful to protect his identity and the identity of his team, who I've never met except for my pseudo-uncle Al. They go undercover a lot and I never want to be the reason why their true identities are ever exposed.

After an uneventful night I woke up early the next morning. I threw on my running clothes and began stretching as I waited for James and Chris. "Let's go boys!" I yelled as I knocked on their condo door at the end of the hallway. There were only two units on my floor, my three bedroom, three-and-a-half-bathroom penthouse and the two bedroom, two and a half bathrooms at the opposite end of the hall. I purchased both units when I decided to make the move. "Jesus, Mac! It's only 7:00am, which means it's 5:00am back home. That's the middle of the night." James said as he opened the door. I smiled, flashing my dimples as my royal blue eyes sparkled. I had my fire red curly hair pulled up into a bun under my knit hat. I was trying to stay incognito as long as possible. "Making us run outside when it's 28 degrees out is mean. I don't think you pay us enough for this." Chris said laughingly as he closed the door behind them. We headed down the elevator and out the door for a six-mile run. It was exhilarating and felt so good to be home!

HANK'S P.O.V.

I have been in my office since 7:00am with Detective Alvin Olinsky and Desk Sargent Trudy Platt. Al, Trudy and I have known each other for over twenty years and they were the only two people at the District who knew the famous actress, Mackayla Kennedy, was my niece and was in trouble. We were reviewing the file that West Hollywood P.D. had emailed over the night before. There was hardly anything in the file. My blood was boiling. "No wonder their case closure percentage is so low. There's barely anything in the file. They didn't do any follow up." Al said in disgust. There were a few photos. Photos of a brutally beaten Mackayla. Photos of her beautiful home completely destroyed. Photos of her knuckles, bloody because she fought back. Photos of ligature marks around her wrists and ankles from when she had been bound and tied to her bed. The evidence from the rape kit stating she had been assaulted. There were two incident reports, the last one from ten days ago, when someone tried to break into her home once again. Everything in the file was pointing towards the fact that she had a stalker, but there were no suspects mentioned in the file. "I hope he followed her to Chicago, to my city, because I'm going to find him and make him regret every minute of his miserable existence on this planet." I growled. "I need the two of you to retract her name from the file. This is now our case but I don't want her identity known for as long as possible. The press will have a field day with this. Al, get the board set up. We hit the ground running when everyone gets in. Trudy, Mac will be here at 10:30am. I would like you to call me when she arrives and then bring her up here as quickly as possible. I want to talk to her, but because I'm so close to this I want you, Al, along with Burgess to take her official statement." I instructed.

After they left my office all I could think is how could this have happened to my little girl. Yes, she was now a grown woman of twenty-eight, but I will always think of her as that scared, heartbroken twelve-year-old who stole my heart from the first moment I laid eyes on her. With her big vibrant blue eyes, freckled ivory skin and crazy curly red hair she became my little girl from the moment Camille and I learned of her parents' deaths. I swore to myself she would never be that hurt and feel that alone ever again, and I can't help but think that she must have after her attack.

I thought there was something off when she called to tell me about the new role in her movie and she wanted to shadow my team for a couple of weeks for "research", as she called it. It was a big blockbuster with potential for a sequel and as always, she would put her heart and soul into it. I couldn't help but think something was off and when I received the call yesterday from Jenna, Mackayla's Assistant, I knew my instincts had been right. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 9:15am. I got up from my desk and walked out to the bullpen. We had closed a case last night and everyone was in a good mood because of it and also because it was Friday. I looked at Al and nodded. He flipped the board over and I said "Listen up. I know we just came off a rough case yesterday and you all did a great job. We all went home in one-piece last night and that is always our goal when we go after the bad guys. I know it's Friday but we have another case. Al, go ahead and fill them in." Everyone's head swiveled back and forth between Al and me. They couldn't believe what they heard...I was assigning the Unit a case but wasn't going to be the one giving the details. They were about to find out why.

"Is that Mackayla Kennedy? The actress?" Atwater asked, looking at the pictures on the board, before Al started to speak. Ignoring him Al began, "Listen you all know when you joined Intelligence that we do things differently up here. When we say something is to remain in house we mean it is to remain in house. I can't stress the importance of that as I'm about to give you some information that you don't know. For the rest of the case we are going to refer to the victim as Kay. All of your notes, all of the conversations you have amongst yourselves and with anyone else are going to refer to her as Kay. But let me be the first to tell you about Mackayla Kennedy, who is twenty-eight years old and the victim of a horrible rape, beating and has gained the attention of a stalker. West Hollywood PD sent the file over to us last night and as you can see it is very thin...it's too think. This case is now ours." "Why are we taking a case that happened in California? How are we supposed to solve it here?" Halstead asked. "If you had let me finish I would have told you that Mackayla Kennedy moved to Chicago yesterday. She has Chicago roots and it had already been agreed upon that she would shadow us for a couple of weeks in order to do research for an upcoming movie role." Al replied. "Jesus, we are going to babysit a spoiled actress? She would have just gotten in the way. What idiot in the Ivory Tower approved that request?" Halstead asked.

MACKAYLA'S P.O.V.

I arrived at the District early. I was anxious to see Hank and wanted to get whatever lecture he was going to give me over with. I begged Trudy to not announce my arrival and I couldn't believe what I was hearing as I walked up the stairs. With each step I took I felt my temper rising. Spoiled actress? Victim? Kay? They couldn't have come up with a better name? Why are they even investigating this case? I'm pretty sure it was out of the jurisdiction. I was embarrassed and ashamed as I saw the pictures on the board. I didn't want to think about that night ever again.

I felt James and Chris move closer, to almost protect me, and seeing the look on my face Trudy cleared her throat, drawing attention to our arrival as we reached the top of the stairs. "The idiot that approved Mackayla's request doesn't work in the Ivory Tower. He's your boss, Detective Halstead. He's also her Uncle." Trudy said to him. God, I love that woman. I missed her when I was in California. The room went quiet as I walked over to Hank and hugged him. "Obviously we need to talk." I said as I took a step back and looked at the board. I shook my head and said "I really wasn't looking my best in any of these photos. Hope I look a little better today, Uncle Hank." I turned and saw Alvin standing a few feet away with a soft smile on his face. "Hey, Al. God, it's good to see you." I said as I walked over and hugged him. I turned around and looked at the Detective, the one with the blue-green eyes who called me spoiled...the one who had to be one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen...the one who literally just made my heart skip a beat...and in what was probably a haughty tone said "Spoiled? Really, that's a new one because most people will say I'm hard working as opposed to spoiled." I then turned to Hank and asked if we could go into his office.

JAY'S P.O.V.

Oh shit, I thought to myself as I watched Mackayla Kennedy walk into Hank's office. The Mackayla Kennedy that I may have had one or two inappropriate thoughts about over the years. I mean she is hot and even hotter in person. She's barely 5'0 tall, maybe 105 pounds with an amazing body. Her eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen. And that red hair...there's so much of it. I would love to run my hands through it. She was dressed in tight black leggings, an emerald green v-neck tight shirt with a short black leather jacket over it and black over the knee leather boots. I think I drooled as I looked at her. I think I may have just fallen in love at first sight and I don't think she even said twenty words to me. She definitely didn't smile at me but I saw her smile at Hank and Al and I wished she had smiled at me. Jesus, Halstead get it together I thought to myself. She's a victim. She's part of a case. She's Voight's niece. I'm pretty sure she hated me on the spot because of what I said. I'm pretty sure Voight is going to make my life hell because of what I said.