"What, no hello?"

Calleigh pressed herself closer to Horatio, her pulse racing. Her mouth was dry, memories from long ago bubbling up inside her: the bitter taste of fear in her throat; sharp, burning pain; the strong smell of blood, hot and sticky on her hands . . .

Carlo Dos Santos, arms dealer, kidnapper, attempted murderer, laughed and took a step towards the bed. If it weren't for the gun pointed directly at them, Horatio would have launched himself at Dos Santos. Fury simmered white hot in his veins; here was the man who had tried to kill Calleigh, now holding Horatio's own weapon, and Horatio could do nothing.

"Long time, no see, huh, Lieutenant?" Dos Santos, still in his prison blues, smiled at Horatio. "You too, Calleigh. You're looking better than the last time I saw you."

Behind Horatio, Calleigh stiffened. "What do you want, Carlo?" Horatio asked.

"You can't give me what I want." When he stepped closer, Horatio could see the wildness in his eyes. This scene could only end badly, and all three of them knew it.

"What I want," Dos Santos continued, "is to have what you took away from me. My money, my power, my reputation, my family." He smiled at Calleigh, his gaze lingering longer than she was comfortable with. She quickly pulled Horatio's shirt on. Her fingers trembled as she buttoned it up, and she hated the fear this man made her feel. No, she thought. She refused to be afraid of him; she wouldn't give him that.

"You committed a crime, Carlo. People died because of your little 'business operation' . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, and if I hadn't gone after you, I wouldn't have gone back to prison. Blah, blah, blah." His voice hardened. "I know. But I made a promise to you at my sentencing. Do you remember?"

Horatio nodded. Dos Santos had told him he'd be sorry. He'd shrugged it off; it wasn't the first time someone had threatened him. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

"I never go back on a promise."

Calleigh put her hand on Horatio's shoulder, frightened but strangely calm. Dying didn't scare her as much as the thought that Dos Santos might only kill one of them and leave the other to suffer. If that was the case, she knew she would be the one to die and she couldn't bear the thought of Horatio hurting for her.

"You two ready for some fun?" Dos Santos laughed, the sound of a desperate man with nothing to lose. He tossed a pair of handcuffs to Calleigh. "Cuff him to the bedpost."

Calleigh looked at Horatio, the fear returning in full force. He gave a brief nod and slid up so his back was against the headboard. Her hands shaking, Calleigh leaned over him and slipped the cuffs on his wrists. She didn't close them. When she sat back, she smiled slightly and her eyes darted to the bedside table where the spare gun was kept. Horatio tilted his head just enough to tell Calleigh he was thinking the same thing.

Dos Santos grabbed Calleigh's arm and pulled her away from Horatio. She gasped as he shoved her roughly onto her back. Dos Santos slid one side of her shirt down, baring her shoulder. He traced her collarbone with the muzzle of the gun.

Horatio bit down on his lower lip to keep from protesting; it wouldn't do to act too soon. Quietly, taking advantage of Dos Santos' distraction, he removed the handcuffs and slowly inched towards the bedside table. His eyes never leaving Dos Santos, he reached for the drawer.

Dos Santos noticed Calleigh's engagement ring and laughed. "You two have been busy. Bet that cost a fortune."

Calleigh squeezed her eyes closed, her entire body tense. She flinched when Dos Santos ripped her shirt open. Feeling his fingers on her skin, she fought the urge to react. As he lowered his head to her neck, she couldn't keep herself from shivering. She would have fought back but for the gun digging into her ribcage. When Dos Santos touched her scar -- the scar he'd given her -- Calleigh struggled to contain her nausea.

Enough.

In one smooth motion, Horatio pulled the gun from the bedside drawer and held it to the back of Dos Santos' head. "Drop it," he said.

Calleigh's eyes flew open. The gun was still pressed into her side. At such close range, a shot would kill her.

There was the welcome sound of sirens approaching. Calleigh almost wept in relief.

"Bad move, Lieutenant. What's to stop me from killing her right now?"

"A bullet in the back of your head." Horatio's voice was low and dangerous, leaving Calleigh and Dos Santos in no doubt as to his sincerity.

Brakes screeched in the street. The sirens were right outside.

Dos Santos chuckle, his breath a sickly warmth on Calleigh's skin. "Go on, then. Shoot me."

Someone knocked on the door. "Police! Open up!"

"Don't tempt me."

"You know what, she's not worth it." The pressure in Calleigh's side relaxed as Dos Santos gave up.

With his free hand, Horatio took Dos Santos' gun. He cuffed his hands behind his back and pulled him off Calleigh.

The front door splintered as someone broke in. Calleigh clutched the ruined shirt closed and slid off the bed, heading straight for the bathroom. Horatio kept his gun trained on Dos Santos until Adele, Delko and two other officers poured into the room. The officers jerked Dos Santos to his feet. He smirked at Horatio.

"It's not over. Next time you touch her, she'll be thinking of me. She—"

"Get him out of here," Adele said. The officers led him away, none too gently. "Are you okay?"

Horatio nodded and knocked on the bathroom door. "Calleigh? Cal?"

"What happened tonight?" Adele spoke softly, her hand on Horatio's arm.

"We'll give you our statements tomorrow. Right now, I need . . . Calleigh?" He tried the door; it was locked.

"Alright. Are you going to stay here tonight? I could arrange a guard."

"It's okay. You've got him. Just don't let him get out again." He would deal with Dos Santos tomorrow, right now Calleigh needed him.

Adele and Delko left in silence. Horatio knocked on the door again. "Calleigh, are you okay?"

Inside the bathroom, Calleigh hunched over the toilet bowl. Slowly, she got to her feet and pulled the chain. She wanted to tell Horatio she was fine, except that wasn't true. She had never felt as violated as she had earlier. Wiping tears away, she stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away every trace of Dos Santos' touch. Looking down, she saw the scar that remained as a constant reminder of her first encounter with him.

She sank to her haunches, sobbing openly until she had exhausted her supply of tears. When she had the strength to stand, she stepped out the shower and wrapped herself in a big, fluffy towel.

The bedroom was empty. Calleigh couldn't look at the bed. She quickly dressed in a sweat suit and found Horatio on the couch. He smiled when he saw her but she knew he was worried. She curled up next to him, as close as she could get. He pulled her onto his lap, hugging her to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." She paused. "I love you."

Horatio kissed the crown of her head. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault he got out."

"But it's my fault you—"

"No." She pulled away so she could look him in the eye. "We've been through this a thousand times already. I won't let you blame yourself again."

Horatio cupped her cheek in his palm, thought of Dos Santos' hands on her and hated himself for it. Calleigh kissed him softly, a kiss that's only intention was to let him know they were going to be all right. Then she settled back against his shoulder.

"I love you, too, Cal."

She smiled, drifting off to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat. In his arms, she was safe. Nothing could touch her here. Eventually exhaustion caught up to Horatio and he too let sleep claim him.

Tommy stopped the rental car outside Horatio's house, surprised to see a patrol car parked in the driveway and an officer in the driver's seat. Tommy looked at his mother. In silence, they climbed out the car. As they neared the house, Tommy could see the damage to the front door.

"Excuse me." The officer stepped out his car and approached them. "Can I help you?"

"What happened?" Marjorie asked. "Where's Calleigh?"

"I'm afraid I can't say anything—"

"I'm her mother. Now where is she? Where's Horatio?" Marjorie's voice rose with each word; there was no point in trying to hide her panic.

"They're inside, ma'am."

For a horrible moment, Tommy thought they were dead. No, he realized, the officer wouldn't let them go in if they were. As Marjorie walked into the house, Tommy turned back to the officer. "So what happened?"

"There was an incident involving an escaped prisoner. Lieutenant Caine had the situation under control by the time backup arrived. Detective Sevilla had me stay just as a precaution."

An incident, Tommy thought. That could be 'copspeak' for just about anything. He followed his mother inside.

Horatio and Calleigh were asleep on the couch, spooned together, Horatio's arm draped over Calleigh's midriff. Marjorie watched them with a smile on her face. Her relief at finding them unharmed was obvious.

"Maybe we should come back later," Tommy whispered.

Horatio opened his eyes and sat up without waking Calleigh. He showed no surprise at his unexpected visitors.

"Tommy, hi. How was your flight, Marjorie?"

Marjorie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Just fine. Mind telling me why there's an officer outside and why your front door looks as if someone tried really hard to get inside?"

"There's an officer outside? I told Adele . . . never mind." He sighed. "It's a long story."

"Mmm." Marjorie huffed. "Do you two usually sleep on the couch?"

By now, Calleigh was beginning to wake up. She yawned and slowly moved into a sitting position. "Hi, Mom. Hey, Tommy."

"Hello? That's all we get? Calleigh, Horatio, what happened?" Marjorie's tone left no room for argument.

Calleigh sighed and decided to give her mother the edited version. "An escaped prisoner came after us last night. But Horatio managed to restrain him until backup arrived."

Marjorie sank into an armchair. "Did this person intend to harm you?"

Calleigh glanced at Horatio. It was time to change the subject. The less Marjorie and Tommy knew, the better. "Uh, does anyone want coffee?"

"Calleigh."

Calleigh automatically reached for Horatio's hand. "It doesn't matter, Mom—"

"Doesn't matter? I arrive to help with your wedding only to find out a madman tried to kill the two of you last night."

"Mom, calm down." Tommy tried to play peacemaker. "If Cal says it was nothing, I'm sure it was."

Unconvinced, Marjorie kept her eyes on Calleigh. "I'm waiting."

Calleigh gave up. "Fine. Carlo Dos Santos escaped from prison yesterday. Horatio took me out to dinner and Dos Santos was waiting for us when we got back."

Calleigh watched her mother carefully and noticed the exact moment her mother recognized the name. Marjorie paled and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Carlo Dos Santos . . . isn't he the one who . . . ?"

Calleigh nodded.

Marjorie sank into an armchair, clearly shaken by the news. "I think I would like that cup of coffee now."

Horatio jumped up. "I'll make."

"I'll help." Tommy followed him to the kitchen.

Calleigh sat on the arm of her mother's chair and took her hand. "Mom, we're okay. He's back in prison, where he can't hurt us."

"The police broke the door down?"

"Yes."

"If everything was under control why would they need to do that?"

"Do we really need to discuss this? Horatio's fine, I'm fine. I'd much rather talk about the wedding." Calleigh smiled.

Marjorie was silent for a while. Eventually, she looked at her daughter and reached up to gently cup her cheek. "I love you, you know. I never told you enough when you were growing up."

"I knew anyway. And I love you too." Calleigh blinked back sudden tears.

"Tommy says he's doing the photographs."

"Yeah. He'd kill me if I had anyone else."

Marjorie laughed and Calleigh was relieved the seriousness had passed. "I have a fitting this afternoon. Just wait until you see the dress . . ."

In the kitchen, Horatio heard the women laugh and smiled at Tommy.

"So was it really like that?" Tommy asked.

Horatio sighed. "No."

"What happened then?"

"It honestly doesn't matter now. It's over."

"Right." Tommy crossed his arms and stared at Horatio. "This guy, Dos Santos, really hates you guys . . . what if he gets out again?"

"He won't."

"And if he does?"

Horatio looked Tommy directly in the eyes. "I would die before I let him touch Calleigh again."

Tommy thought about that for a while, then nodded. "Okay."

"Okay."

"I just worry about her." He felt obliged to explain.

Horatio put his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "She's lucky to have a brother like you."

Tommy smiled. "And even luckier to be marrying someone like you."