Mac stayed at the office until almost Midnight, just hoping that someone would call, but no one did. He yawned as he leaned back in his chair. He thought of the argument that he and Stella had today. He wasn't sure how he really felt about that. He couldn't understand Stella sleeping with Adam. They had 'too much to drink'. He had sat here in this office until his eyes were blurred and his head hurt after all that happened. He had just consumed himself in his work. He had not had any idea what the others were doing. He supposed they dealt with their grief in their own way. Mac always dealt with his grief by working himself to a frazzle.

Mac turned his chair around and looked out the window. He hoped he wouldn't always feel awkward about that between Stella and Adam. If he wasn't Adam's boss and didn't know him so well, it would be different. He didn't want Stella to know that he was feeling this way. He would have to remember how much he loved her. He had been in love with her a long time. If he had let her know that a long time ago, they might have been together, and she wouldn't have been with Adam. Mac shook his head. He couldn't blame that on himself.

Mac heard the elevator beep. He looked around, and Adam came out of the elevator. He came toward Mac's office. Mac waved him on in before he knocked. "Hey," Adam said. "There's nothing yet. I'm going home to get some rest, if that's okay."

"Sure," Mac said.

"Aren't you going home too?"

Mac nodded. "Soon."

Mac watched Adam go to the elevator. He would have to get past this. He supposed he had gotten past worse things. He couldn't think of any. Although Claire had a child before they met, he didn't know the father or work with him. How would he have felt if he had? He didn't know. This was just different. Could he get past it? He would have to. What if Peyton came back here after he married Stella? Would she feel this way about her?

Mac got up and put his folders away. He had to go home and get some rest. He went down to the lobby. Just then, his phone rang. It was that ringtone Stella had put on his phone for herself. "Hello," he said.

"Mac, are you home?" Stella asked.

"I'm heading that way now."

"You sound tired."

"I am."

"I guess you didn't hear anything else."

"Nothing."

Mac thought he would walk part of the way home so he could think. "Why aren't you asleep?" he asked.

"I was just lying here thinking," Stella asked.

"About what?"

"I shouldn't have blown up at you like I did today. I'm sorry about that."

Mac thought if she knew how he was thinking now, she would probably throw his ring in the toilet. "It's alright," he said.

"You're quiet. Is that still bothering you?"

Mac couldn't lie. "I have to admit, it does bother me a little, but I'm gonna get past it."

"How?"

"In my own way. I'm not going to let something like this ruin our relationship. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Mac put his phone away and kept walking toward home. He thought he might walk the whole way. At least he didn't have to wear a coat. It was a warm summer night. He thought maybe walking would clear his mind and wear him out so he could sleep when he got home. He remembered the first time he had thought of asking Stella out. He really didn't know why he didn't. She might never have gone out with Frankie if he had. He might never have let Peyton rip his heart out. Mac shook his head. Always something like that could come to mind. He smiled. The past had to stay in the past. There was nothing that could undo it. Just let it go and look toward the future.

Mac felt better as he walked on toward home. He felt like he was hardly ever there. He supposed he was at the office more than he was at home.

By the time Mac got to his street, he was very tired. He yawned as he walked the last block home. Just as he was going by an alley next to his apartment building, he heard someone say, "Hey, there he is."

Mac looked around in time to see three guys grab him and pull him into the alley. They shoved him into the wall. Mac was a little addled, but he got his bearings back quickly. He elbowed one of them in the nose, then kneed another in the groin. He turned to the other ready to give him a taste of his fist, but that one sprayed him with pepper spray. Mac grabbed his face and wiped his eyes. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He coughed and tried to get his vision back, but he was sprayed again. Mac thought he would die. Then he was shoved against the wall. "You're going with us," one of them said.

Mac was mad though. He glared at the one in front of him through green fire. "Not on your life," he said.

The guy was so surprised, Mac got a strong right to the guy's nose. Next, he looked at the one with that can of pepper spray, who was just about to use it again. Mac grabbed his arm and twisted, and at the same time, rammed his elbow into the nose of the one behind him. Unfortunately for Mac, the one on the ground had a knife. He cut the back of Mac's right shin. Mac yelled out with pain. His leg crumpled under him, and he went to his knees. Then he was struck on the back of the head. Mac hit the pavement hard. He still tried to move, but his arms felt numb. They loaded him into the back of a van.

Mac could feel the cut on his leg. He wondered how bad it was. Would they let him bleed to death? Was he bleeding badly? He had no idea. He thought of Stella. He hoped she knew how much he loved her. "Stella," he whispered, as he passed out.

Stella sat straight up in bed. She thought she heard something. She had been dreaming that she and Mac were still at the cabin, and he said her name. She lay back down. She got her phone and dialed Mac's number. Maybe he needed her.

Mac's phone rang in his pocket. "Hey, get that!" one of his captors said. "Take the battery out of it."

Stella was puzzled as to why Mac didn't answer his phone. She hoped maybe he was just asleep. She had an eerie feeling now. She had heard him say her name in her sleep. Was he in trouble? Stella shook her head. "What's the matter with you, Bonasera?" she asked herself. She put her phone on the nightstand and lay back down. Mac was probably in dreamland. She hoped he was having good dreams. She remembered how peacefully and soundly he was sleeping that morning at the cabin. She didn't think thunder could have woken him up that morning.

At about 2 am, Stella got a call to a crime scene. She got up and got dressed and went outside. As she was about to go out to the curb, someone grabbed her and dragged her into the alley. They held something over her face to put her to sleep. She could smell it as she passed out.

When Mac woke up, he was sitting in a chair…or at least, he thought he was sitting in a chair. He felt a little lightheaded. What happened? He thought. He was ambushed in an alley. He remembered fighting with three guys. Then he remembered his shin. He tried to move his leg. It was very sore, and he could feel blood on his leg. He wasn't sure if it was still bleeding or not. Mac tried to open his eyes, but they felt sore and like they were burning. His sinuses and throat felt like they were burning too. He remembered, he had been sprayed with pepper spray. Mac tried to open his eyes anyway. They watered as though he were crying.

Mac looked around him, but his vision was still blurry. He tried to move his hands, but his arms were taped to the chair around his upper arm and forearm. He finally blinked enough tears out of his eyes to see where he was. It was a bedroom…or that's what Mac thought it looked like. It looked like a room in someone's house. Mac pulled at the tape, but it was no use. He was stuck. "Hey!" he yelled. Then he thought he might not want them to come in there.

It was too late, however. Mac heard the door unlocking. He waited to see who would come in. To his surprise, a girl came in. Mac stared at her. "Untie me," he said.

"I can't do that," she said.

"Why not?"

"Orders. All I can do is give you food and water."

Mac stared at her. "Who are you?"

"Bridget."

Mac thought he must be having a nightmare. "How did I get here? How did 'you' get here?" He thought this girl couldn't be over fourteen years old.

The girl came over to him with a bottle of water. "You thirsty?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Then open up."

Mac thought this was a strange situation. He accepted the water, glad to have something to help his burning throat. He coughed some after that. He looked at the girl. "Where am I?" he asked.

"You're in my room," she said, as though that were a normal thing.

Mac had a thousand questions he could ask. "Why am I here?" he asked.

"I'm watching you for somebody."

"Do you often 'watch' people for others?"

"Yes."

Mac looked at her. "Why?"

"They'll tell me when to let you go."

Mac couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Who are you keeping me for?"

"My brothers. I can't tell you more than that."

"Why not?"

"I only have a limited amount of information that I can share with prisoners."

Mac tried to absorb that. "So, this is just a normal thing for you?" he asked.

The girl nodded. "Do you know that it's a crime to hold somebody against their will?" Mac asked.

"I'm not hurting you," Bridget said.

"It doesn't matter. You're still holding me against my will."

"You're just saying that."

Mac stared at her. "No, I'm not. It's true."

"Are you a cop?"

"Yes. I'm the head of the crime lab in New York City. I'm still in New York, right?"

"Yes, but you're not in Manhattan."

Mac let out a long sigh. "What about my leg?" he asked. "I could bleed to death."

"No. My brothers fixed that before they left. It wasn't a deep cut. It's all wrapped up now. They don't want you dead."

"Why do I still feel blood on my leg then?"

"That's not blood," Bridget said. "It's something to keep you from getting infected."

Mac had never heard of anything like this in his life. "How long do you think you're going to keep me here?" he asked.

"I told you: until they come for you."

"And what if I put you in juvenile hall after that?" Mac asked.

"You won't."

Mac thought this child was awfully confident. "How do you know?"

"Because you'll never find me."

"What do they want with me?" Mac asked.

"They want you for something."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out when they want you to know."

Mac's mouth dropped open. "What?!" He pulled at the tape. "You untie me right now," he demanded. "What kind of stupid idea is this?"

"I can't talk to you anymore," Bridget said.

"This is crazy."

"I'm not talking to you."

Mac leaned back in the chair. "You can't keep me here like this," he said.

"You don't have a choice." The girl looked at her watch. "You better eat. I have to go to school soon."

Mac wondered how long he had been out. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Seven-thirty."

"You're just gonna leave me here all day?"

"You'll be fine." Bridget brought a bowl of cereal over to Mac. "Open wide."

Mac stared at her. He thought he must be having a really crazy nightmare. He must have fallen asleep in his chair at the office and he was dreaming all this. He accepted the food. "Hey, can you pinch me?" he asked.

"You're not dreaming," the girl said, as she wiped his mouth. "See you later."

Mac watched her get her backpack and books and walk to the door. "Hey, wait a minute," Mac said.

"Bye."

Mac was flabbergasted. She went out the door. He heard more than one lock. Mac pulled at the tape. They knew they had him tied in a way that he couldn't move. He couldn't believe this. Didn't they know his team would keep working even without him? He didn't think they could even find him in here. Where was here? Mac scooted the chair around until he could see the window, but it was tempered glass, so he couldn't see out. What kind of crazy people was he dealing with here? Mac figured they left him here with that girl because they knew he wouldn't hurt her to get away. He sure hoped Stella could find him.