Nancy and Frank didn't say anything to each other until they were sitting in Nancy's baby blue Ford Mustang convertible. She put the key in the ignition and looked over at Frank. He was absolutely fuming and he wasn't doing anything to hide that fact. She only wondered if it was because of her or whatever Dom had said to him.

"What the hell did that accomplish?" Frank asked, angrily.

"What did Dom say to you?" Nancy asked at the same time.

They were too angry and frustrated to laugh at themselves.

"Well?" Frank asked before Nancy had a chance to repeat her question.

Nancy rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. When she looked up at Frank, she could see that same frustration was written all over his handsome face.

"I don't know," Nancy said, for the lack of a better answer. What had she accomplished? If anything, it was that Dom was right—she had given him the satisfaction that he had seeked from her.

"Do you know how incredibly stupid that was for you to confront him like that?" Frank demanded. "You did exactly what he wanted you to do! You played right into his demented hands!"

"Do you think I don't know that, Frank?" Nancy said, blowing up. "Do you think that I don't know that I gave him exactly what he wanted? I was stupid, okay? I should have let the police handle it instead of flying in there, thinking I could make him stop."

Frank let out a weary sigh. "I'm sorry, Nan. I didn't mean to be so angry with you."

"Yes, you did," Nancy said softly.

"You're right—I did," Frank said which surprised Nancy. He saw her expression and quickly explained. "I didn't want you to confront him, but there was nothing I could do to stop you. I don't know if anyone's told you, but you're incredibly stubborn. When you make up your mind, no matter how rash it may be, there is nothing that will change it."

Nancy nodded and remained silent. She knew he was right; once her mind was made up there was usually nothing that could be done to change it. People had always told her that her stubbornness was a good quality when it came to her cases, but one day it would eventually catch up to her.

Frank touched her hand. "But I don't think you're stupid. Foolish, yes. But never stupid. You're the most intelligent woman that I know. And anything you decide to do, you can be sure that I'll be there to support you every step of the way."

Nancy smiled at him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she whispered.

Frank beamed his own brilliant smile at her. "That's what friends are for."

Nancy removed her hand from his and brought it up to start the car. Before she turned the key, she looked back at Frank. "What did he say to you?"

Frank's smile fell and he stiffened. "Don't worry about it," he said.

Nancy shook her head. "We're not going anywhere until you tell me what he said to you."

Frank shrugged his shoulders. "I'm prepared to sit here all day," he said. "I don't want to talk about it." He turned away from her to look out his window.

Nancy put her hand under his chin and forced him to look at her. While Frank may have been exuding anger in his voice, his eyes told a completely different story. There was an undeniable fear in his deep brown eyes; a fear that she had seen on a few rare occasions.

"What is it, Frank?" she asked, gently.

Frank hesitated and Nancy continued to gaze at him intently. He knew she wasn't going to let up until he told her. He let out a long sigh. "He said he wasn't through with you yet. Somehow he was going to get off and when he did, he was going to finish where he left off. He practically guaranteed I—or anyone, for that matter—would be able to keep you safe."
Nancy held his gaze for a few moments longer and then shrugged. "They're just threats, Frank."

"He's gone through with every single one of his so far," Frank pointed out. "For God's sake, Nan, he just attacked you in there, from the inside of a jail cell!"

Nancy's hand absently went to her neck. It was still a little tender and she was sure it would start to bruise soon. "He caught me off guard, Frank."

"That's just it," Frank said. "If he's able to get you like that, then what is to stop him from going after you again? What will he do to make sure that nothing stands in his way from getting to you?"

"He won't have that chance," Nancy said.

Frank sighed in exasperation. "How can you be sure of that, Nancy?" he asked.

"I'm not!" Nancy cried. "Frank, I'm not sure of anything right now! But I can't keep thinking about the 'what ifs'. If I do, then I'll drive myself crazy!"

"I don't mean to scare you," Frank said.

"You're not scaring me, Frank," Nancy said. "You're telling me things that I just don't want to voice to myself."

She started the car and began to back out of her parking spot.

"Where are we off to now?" Frank asked, trying to change the subject.

"First, I'm going to the doctor to get these stupid stitches out and then I think it's time I got some answers from my dad," Nancy said.

"Do you really think he knows anything about that note?" Frank asked.

"I don't know. I don't want to believe anything that Dom has told me," Nancy said. "But I have every intention of finding out."

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Dom could hear the distant echoes of footsteps as Nancy and Frank walked away. He pushed away from the bars and walked over to his cot. He lay down and stared at the ceiling, thoughts swirling in his morbid mind.

Did they honestly think they could come in here and threaten him? Did they forget who he was? What he had done to them? What he was still capable of?

But he had to admit that he was a little turned on by Nancy's passion. It was the one quality that had drawn him to her in the first place. My God, was she full of passion…

But she was also stupid; she knew that as well. Even though she did her best to hide it, he could still see the fear in her blue eyes. But it was her passion that had driven her here to confront him. It was that passion that didn't allow her to think of the consequences for coming here. But he was glad that she did—and he knew that note would be the thing to bring her to him.

He closed his eyes and brought to memory her face. Her bright blue eyes and her long titian hair—she truly was a beauty. Under normal circumstances, she would be the girl he would bring home to his mother.

Dominic chuckled to himself. Well, he would if he hadn't killed his mother all those years ago…

He startled as another feeling went through his besides the burning rage he had for Nancy. It was a feeling he didn't want to admit to himself, but there it was, nagging at him. He was actually feeling a flutter in his chest, just thinking about Nancy.

Could it be that he actually had feelings for Nancy?

Dom snapped his eyes open and sat up. He stood up and began to pace around the small cell. No! You hate her! Look where she's put you!

He thought back to when he had his hands around her delicate throat. Why hadn't he given it that one final squeeze? Because a very tiny part of him wanted to spare her?

No! You would have gone through with it if Boy Wonder hadn't interfered! his brain screamed at him. Fight these ugly feelings that you're having! Remember the look on her face as you were choking her…

Dom smiled as the recollection took control of his mind. Her face had been a mask of sheer terror and it thrilled him more than anything in the world. She thought she had been so safe with him locked securely in jail, but he had shattered that thought. He had shown her how wrong she was. And he would make sure she never felt safe again as long as he was breathing.

And he would show Boy Wonder that he would never be able to keep her truly safe.

Dominic's ears perked up when he heard the sound of shuffling feet next to him. He remained silent until he heard a male voice.

"You're the guy that's been killing those women, aren't you?" asked a timid voice.

"What if I am?" Dom asked, slightly annoyed that he wasn't alone. He could have sworn that the other cells were vacant. Great, he thought disgusted. Now this little prick will tell the cops that I haven't been playing nice…

"I've been hearing about you," the voice said.

"Yeah?" Dom asked. "You and everyone else in this state."

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Got bored. Wanted something to do to pass the time," Dom said. "Who are you?"

"Dean—Dean Sayers," he answered.

"And why are you so interested in me, Dean?" Dom asked. "Trying to get some information for the incompetent people you call a police force in this little town?"

"Are you kidding?" Dean asked. "I wouldn't help these guys if my life depended on it."

"What then?" Dom asked.

"What's it like to kill someone?" Dean asked, with morbid fascination.

Dom smiled as he heard the eagerness in the stranger's voice. What the hell, he thought. It would be good to share his knowledge with someone else.

"You ever do drugs, Dean?" Dom asked.

Dean hesitated before he answered. "A few times," he admitted.

"Have you ever been high?" Dom asked.

"Maybe once or twice," Dean said.

"Killing someone is even better than that," Dom said. "It's almost euphoric in a way, knowing that you are capable of ending a life without any remorse at all."

"So you enjoy it?" Dean asked.

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't," Dom said, chuckling.

"Who was that girl that came to see you?" Dean asked. "She's pretty."

"She's beautiful," Dom said, softly. "And she's the reason I'm in this hellhole."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Dom rolled his eyes. Was this guy really this dense? "Do you pay attention to the news? I've been the star for the past few days. And the lovely Miss Drew has been my reluctant costar."

"It's hard to watch the news when you've been in this can for the last few days," Dean muttered. "Wait—did you say Drew?"

"So the name means something to you," Dom said. "I was afraid you were turning out to be the village idiot, Dean."

"I'm not a complete idiot. Anyone who lives here knows the name Drew," Dean said. "Besides, it seems to me that you're the idiot if you were stopped by a teenager."

Dom felt anger rise in his chest, but he suppressed it before he could explode. He wasn't about to let some low-life bring him down.

"I wasn't caught by some teenager," Dom snapped. "I would have killed her if the police hadn't shown up when they did."

"I've heard talk about her," Dean said. "Criminals are willing to risk everything in order to be the one who kills her."

"I didn't go after her because I would be idolized, Dean," Dom said, disgusted. "I went after her because I was meant to. Fate told me we were supposed to be together."

Dean scoffed. "You're one of those sickos?" he asked.

Dom ignored him. "And what did you do to land in here, Dean?"

"Violated a restraining order," Dean answered.

"You're no different than I am," Dom said.

"I don't go around killing innocent women," Dean said. "Besides, Jessie loves me."

"I've heard that restraining orders were replacing flowers and candy as romantic gestures," Dom said, mocking him.

"Whatever, man," Dean said.

Dom smiled. He was starting to get to him. Well, let's see if he's any different than I am…

"When do you get out of here?" Dom asked.

"Sometime soon," Dean answered.

"How would you like to break away from the kiddie games?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, confused.

"I need to send a message to Nancy and her little lapdog. And since I won't be getting out of here anytime soon, I'm not able to do it myself," Dom explained. "Do you think you could help me?"

Dom was answered with silence.

"Dean? Are you ready to step up to the plate?" Dom asked.

Dom thought Dean was going to blow him off when he finally answered him.

"What do you need me to do?" Dean asked.

Dom smiled a brilliant smile. "I think you and I are going to get along just fine."

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Author's Note: General consensus? Everyone thinks that Dom is a bastard. And I have to tell you that makes me very happy. It is very hard to create a memorable villain and when an author is able to do that and receive wonderful feedback about him, then she is doing something right! I've had several ask if he haunts my dreams…the answer is yes. But this is how I get my ideas for my chapters. I write Dom the way I do because he talks to me (That sounds crazy, I know, but he really does).

As always, let me know what you think. I love to read my feedback because it keeps me going!