Wow! I hadn't expected the reviews I received on the last chapter… seriously, you blew my mind! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews and letting me know you are still reading my story. You have no idea how much I appreciated that and how much easier it was to write this chapter after that (I just had to find the time)! I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. ~AJ

After I agreed to lunch with a few of the guys later in the week, Bobby and I headed out to his house. I was anxious to see it, yet a little apprehensive about staying somewhere by myself. Sure, I could aske Bobby to stay with me, but I knew that would complicate things. I was so lost in looking at the scenery and listening to my running thoughts when I felt someone touch my hand. Looking over, I noticed that we'd stopped in front of a single story brick house and Bobby was holding my hand.

"We're here," he said as he turned in his seat to face me more.

"Sorry. I was lost looking at the scenery and listening to my thoughts," I admitted.

Opening his door, he slipped from the SUV and jogged to my side. As he opened my door, he held his hand out for me to take. I will admit this was something new to me. Joe never opened my door or held my hand to help me out. "Like I said, my house isn't anything spectacular, but it is available if you want."

Walking up the driveway, I noticed he had what looked like a huge back yard. On the porch, Bobby unlocked the door, stepped inside, and punched in a code. "I'm hooked up to Rangeman, so you'll have the guys monitoring the house. There are no video cameras inside, just outside on the front and back porch."

I stepped inside with Bobby and he handed me the piece of paper he'd stuck in his pants earlier, "This is the code for the house."

"But I've not said if I'm staying here or not," I told him and refused to take the paper. I didn't want the code to his house if I wasn't going to stay.

"Steph, I want you to have it. Then, anytime you want to come here, you'll be able to get in. I don't care if I'm here or not, you are always welcome here," he told me when he placed the paper in my palm. "I want you to think of this as your home, too."

I was speechless. I didn't know what to say so I just nodded and followed him to the living room. There was a couch, two recliner rocking chairs, and a coffee table. The television was in a cabinet with doors and under that was the DVD player and quite a few DVDs. I noticed a button on the wall, "What's that for?"

"That," he said as he walked to it, "is a panic button. I have one in every room. That way, if something happens and you can't get to a phone, push the button. Rangeman and the local PD will be alerted."

"Why one in every room?" I asked thinking that was a little overboard.

"Well, with my military career and current job, there were possibilities that I'd have people after me. I wanted one in every room so that, no matter where I was, I would hopefully be able to get to one if the need arose." Knocking on his wall, he continued, "So far, I've never had to use them."

"I'm glad," I whispered as we walked to the kitchen.

"I don't have food here, as I've not been living here. So, if you decide to stay, we'll hit the grocery store and stock it up for you. There are pots and pans in the bottom cabinet to the left of the sink. Glasses are in the upper cabinet to the left of the sink. Plates and bowls are directly above the sink," he said as he pointed out the wood cabinets.

"The bathroom is down the hall, first door on the left." As we walked down the hall, he grabbed my hand and made sure I followed him. "This," he said as he opened the door on the right, "is the bedroom." I walked in and it was huge! A lot bigger than I would have expected from the size of the house. "I also have an office across the hall, so if you wanted to work from here sometime, you'd be able to."

"Why are you doing this for me?" I finally asked, unable to refrain any longer.

"Because I want you to be safe. I want you to be able to stand on your own feet again. I want you to not be scared of how you're going to do things."

I could tell there was more that he wanted to say, but he stopped and I didn't push him. In looking around his house, I really wondered if I could do it. Could I stay here and hide from Joe? Could I move out on my own and not see Colin every day? Bobby sat on the bed and left me to explore on my own and gather my thoughts.

When I returned to his bedroom, I knew what my answer was going to be. "I think I'd like to stay here," I told him with a smile.

He stood up, wrapped me in his arms, and hugged me tight, "I was really hoping you'd say that, Tiger." He ruffled my hair and then led me to the SUV outside. "Let's get you some food stocked up, shall we?"

After we returned from shopping, Bobby and I began putting things away. It felt like old times with Joe and I couldn't handle it. I stood there, about to put the soup cans in the cabinet when I froze. I couldn't move. Bobby noticed and came over to me, "Steph, what's wrong?" he quietly asked.

I heard him talking to me, I felt him next to me, yet, it felt like I was in a dream. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything. Finally, Bobby took the can from my hand and turned me to face him.

"I… I don't want to put them away wrong," I cried.

Bobby pulled me into his embrace and held me as I cried. I knew I was soaking his shirt, but I couldn't stop. Finally, when it seemed my body lost all its liquid, I pulled away from Bobby. "Talk to me, Steph," he whispered. "What do you mean put them away wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, I knew I had to talk to him. After all, that is something that Dr. L and I had been discussing… letting Bobby know about everything. "With Joe, if I didn't have all the labels facing forward and in alphabetical order, it was wrong and I'd be punished." I expected to be laughed at, but I should have known better. Bobby wasn't like that.

Instead, Bobby took the cans from the cabinet, turned them upside down and just stacked them however wanted. When they were all stacked, he looked back at me, "Want to knock them down?"

"What?" I asked confused. "Why would I knock them down? You just stacked them."

"Because it would be fun."

When I shook my head no, he turned back to the cabinet and pushed over one of the towers of soup cans. When they fell over, laughed and pushed over the second tower, "Sure you don't want to help?"

Unable to stop, I walked over and began pushing them off the tower, one at a time. When the other three towers were down, I felt like it wasn't enough. I wanted, no needed to push something else. Bobby must have seen it in my eyes or something because he grabbed my hand and led me to the basement that I didn't know he had.

In the corner was a bag hanging from the ceiling along with a bag on a stand. "Let me see your hands," he said as he reached for some tape and gloves. "These will help you so you don't hurt your hands," he explained as he used the tape and gloves. Once my hands were done to his satisfaction, he turned me to the hanging bag, "Go punch the shit out of it."

I walked over and punched it once or twice, but it didn't really do anything. "Think of the cans, Tiger," I heard Bobby say as he stepped up behind me. Thinking of all the times I had the cans facing the correct way and in alphabetic order, yet Joe still wasn't happy because the labels weren't lined up correctly, pissed me off. I began punching the bag with all the force I had. Sometime after I began punching, I heard a scream off in the distance. I didn't know who it was or why they were screaming, but I couldn't afford to be concerned with them at the moment. I knew if it was serious, Bobby would go check it out. Finally, my arms began to feel sore and I was slowing down. I noticed the screaming stopped as well and when I looked around I only saw Bobby in the basement with me. With one last punch to the bag, I fell to the floor in exhaustion.

Bobby sat down next to me, pushed my wet hair off my face, and put a water bottle up to my lips. I downed most of it before he pulled it away, "Thanks," I said with a sore throat. Guess I know who was screaming.

"Feel better?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Actually, yes I do. Thank you."

He reached for my hands and took the gloves off. The tape was all wet from sweat, but he still removed it as well. After checking over my hands, he smiled, "Not even a scratch."

Realizing I was drenched with sweat, I looked at him, "Mind if I take a quick shower?"

"No problem. Come on, I'll help you up."

Once we reached the top of the stairs, I remembered, "I don't have anything to change into here yet."

"No worries. I'll get you a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt. They may be big on you, but they'll work until we get back to Rangeman."

I set off for the bathroom and stripped down. After I stepped in the shower, I heard a knock on the door, "Steph, can I set the clothes on the counter?"

"Sure, I'm in the shower," I hollered and heard the door open. I was grateful that his shower curtain wasn't see-through, but a solid color instead. "Thank you," I said as I pulled a section back and stuck my head out.

"No problem. Let me know if you need anything else," he said as he stood there for a moment staring at the curtain. He finally shook his head and left the room. I swear I heard him mumbling about needed a different curtain, but I wasn't sure why. This one looked new enough.

After my shower, I dried off and put on his clothes. They were huge on me, but I just rolled the waistband down a few times and that seemed to work. The shirt was long enough that I figured I could sleep in it; if he'd let me.

One the way back to Rangeman, I paid attention to where we were and figured I'd be able to find my way if needed… but for now, it didn't matter as I didn't have a vehicle. I was about to doze off when I heard Bobby speak. "Do you want to stay at the house tonight or just stay in my apartment at Rangeman?"

"No empty apartments?" I asked.

He shook his head, "No, I asked earlier but they are all used up right now. I can sleep on the couch."

"No you can't. I've seen your couch and, not only would your feet be falling over the side, so would your head. I can sleep on the couch."

"No. You take the bed. I'll throw some blankets and a pillow on the floor. I've slept in worse conditions," he replied.

Sitting back in the seat, I laid my head back, "We'll figure it out when we get there; but you are not sleeping on the couch or floor." I closed my eyes for the final ten minutes of the drive and wondered how long until my family or Joe knew I was back in town.