Chapter 23 – Into The Light

"I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts,then there is no hurt, but only more love."

~Mother Teresa


Drake's memory was scrambled. He lay still and cold, struggling to categorize what he could remember between truth and fiction. His stomach ached form the hours spent boaking over the toilet. That had been painfully real, but what about the woman? It wasn't Daisy's voice he had heard.

'Wake up, luv. It's me. It's…'

Fiction. Most definitely fiction. Mam's voice must've been part of his fevered delusions.

He also recalled Daisy's hands, touching him tenderly. She'd showered him with kisses and her voice had reached him in the haze, her song a gentle caress to his soul.

Aching and cold, Drake then felt her soft curves against his back. So close and oh, so blessedly warm.

Drake wanted to savor Daisy's body curled around him. He longed for her. Needed her. But just as his pulse quickened to life, the pain returned like an axe buried in his skull.

"Daisy..." he moaned, weakly, "...tha mo cheann na bhrochan. Where are we now?"

She didn't answer when he spoke, or else he didn't hear her over the throbbing in his head. Wherever they were, it was pitch black. He waved a hand in front of his face. A chain rattled, but other than that?

Nothing.

No sound, no light. Just empty blackness ... and terrible pain. Drake fought against the agony to stay conscious and tried to focus his vision on something. Anything.

Frustrated with the darkness, he again lifted a hand in front of his face. "Bloody hell, girl. Have I gone blind, too?"

Out of nowhere, ice-cold fingers slapped over his mouth. "Drake MacFarland I don't know whether to hit ya' or kiss ya'!" Daisy whispered forcefully. "Now shush! We got company."

He took Daisy's arm to remove her hand. His fingers encountered cold iron around soft skin.

"Ouch!" she cried.

Someone hurt her and he was infuriated. "I'll beat him to a bloody stump!"

"Drake, please. Just be-"

Blinding light flooded the room, a sudden onset of full sensory overload. Like a bolt of lightning to the eyes, the pain blazed through his head and out the back of his skull. He groaned in agony.

"Och, that's right awful," he complained through a moan. "A'right. I'm no' blind then."

"Shh." Daisy soothed. "Please be still, sugar."

Carefully, he opened a squinted eye. The first thing he saw was Daisy's arm across his chest and the iron manacle on her wrist. He mumbled an oath. Ignoring Daisy's wishes, he pushed up to a sitting position to look at their surroundings. His vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking the bars. They were locked in a cell.

"Bloody hell."

"You stubborn ox!" Daisy grabbed his shirt. "You have to close your eyes and be quiet! Matt's coming!"

"Matt who?" Drake growled as Daisy's face came into focus. She looked exhausted and an ugly gash in her lip had caused it to swell. Dark smudges had formed beneath her eyes and yellowing bruises marred her beautiful skin.

"Och, lass. Doona be afraid. He canna hurt you again." Gently putting her face in both hands he held her tenderly and committed to memory every bruise, every cut, and every tear that fell. Whoever did this would pay dearly.

The outrage overrode his physical discomfort. He looked Daisy in the eye and said in a stage whisper, "He's a dead man! I'll bloody kill him and bury his carcass to rot by his brother!"

"Drake, please be quiet! You can't let him know you're awake! It's bad enough that he's keeping Emily upstairs! What if he decides to separate us? I couldn't stand it!"

Then I'll snap the scunner's neck when he tries. Drake thought as he watched the booted feet move down the stairs. Daisy huddled into his shoulder and went still.

Wait a second. Emily? Why had they taken her?

The boots paused mid-step when several loud knocks sounded against the overhead door. Matt shouted, "Who is it and what do you want!"

The angry response was duffcult to hear, but Drake managed. He recognized the name.

"It's Liam. We have to talk. I want to go over your plan with the others. We need to make some changes. Giovanni and Salvatore are already in transit."

Drake knew those names, too. Nicholas Giovanni and his cousin, Alexander Salvatore, were the Families' European Dons. They owned a private island in the Mediterranean where they operated the most profitable underground fight club in the world. The events were barbaric and highly illegal. Like the gladiators of ancient Rome, the contenders often fought to the death while the elite of the world cheered on the victor.

"There's nothing wrong with my plan." Matt sounded displeased. "If you don't like it, get on a plane and go help Cunningham."

"Cunningham doesn't need my help!" Liam shouted, growing angrier by the second. "Monroe is bringing the Dons here tomorrow. Do you want to explain why we can't deliver the twins? It'll cost Monroe a fortune and humiliate him in front of The Family. That kind of failure will cost us our lives. I'm not willing to risk it so I'm fixing your lousy plan. The others are waiting in the office. Now move it!"

Drake's heart stuttered. So that's what was going on. Monroe was giving… No. He was selling the twins. By kidnapping Emily, he made sure Jaxon and Jenny exchanged their lives for hers. Giovanni and Salvatore would add them to their menagerie of fighters and Monroe would move up the ranks in the mob.

It was the ultimate revenge.

Jaxon would survive a few months, but Jenny's size made her hand-to-hand skills unreliable. There was a reason Da focused her training on firearms. Then again, the Dons would want to squeeze the most out of their investment.

The room tilted and blurred. If they matched Jenny with men close to her size, or God forbid, tried to force the twins to fight each other, wealthy degenerates from their father's past would crawl out of the woodwork and spend tons of cash just to see Monroe's revenge play out against Ian MacFarland.

Drake had to get out of here and stop it. He couldn't lose the only siblings he had left.

Matt's voice brought the room back into focus as he shouted instructions to the man waiting upstairs. "Tell the men to get a cup of coffee and just wait. I'll be there in thirty minutes."

Daisy's body trembled against his. Drake raised his arms to wrap her in his embrace; frustrated by the chains and the effort it took to do such a simple thing.

"No," she whispered and ducked away. "I may have to move fast."

Drake didn't argue.

Liam's voice relayed his failing patience as he answered Matt. "Not thirty minutes. Right now."

"Alright! I'll be there!" Matt cursed under his breath and stomped down the stairs. Slowly walking to the bars, he met Drake's glare head on.

"Good, to see you're still alive. I was afraid I'd robbed myself of the pleasure of a slow kill. The last guy I had down here lasted three weeks. He begged me to kill him. In the end, he grabbed my knife and cut his own throat." Matt's voice was casual with a dark edge to it, making Drake's bones shudder at the thought. "Guess he couldn't face the world after a few weeks in mine."

Changing his tone, Matt went on cheerily, "Look! I brought breakfast. Ever tried hardtack? I'll give you a couple, on one condition." Lust filled eyes turned to Daisy. "Come over here, Wildcat. Let's take off that blouse and see what's underneath."

Daisy gasped and clutched Drake's arm with both hands.

"She stays wi me. Speak to her like that again and you'll be pissin' out yer ears." Drake threatened. His blood was boiling at Matt's audacity and use of a pet name. Daisy was his wildcat and now that term of endearment was ruined. Despite his weakened condition, he rolled on a hip and sat forward, bracing his arms on the floor. He swayed a little as grey danced on the edge of his vision.

Matt smirked. "You don't look too good MacFarland."

"Count the minutes, Duncan. Your life is forfeit. I'll see to it m'self." Drake was angry enough to kill and hoped his eyes shown with lethal intent. Matt was the worst kind of predator, unfit for society.

"You couldn't swat a fly in that kind of shape." Matt juggled the hardtack. "You took quite a blow to the head. You haven't eaten in two days either and are probably still feeling the effects of the tranquilizer dart. Food would help. Big man like you must be pretty hungry by now."

"Keep your bloody dog biscuits." Drake grit out. "I'd rather starve."

"Suit yourself. I'll just leave these as a reminder of what you're missing." He tossed the hardtack biscuits on the floor, far outside the cell. They bounced like stones.

Matt then turned his leering eyes back to Daisy. "Don't hold out too long, Wildcat. You'll just get weaker. I like my women feisty. If you don't eat soon, I'll have to come in there and beat some obedience into you."

Daisy's hands rested on Drake's shoulders as she fired back. "You should see what happened to th' last guy who said that."

"Aye. She dropped the arse like a stone." Drake smirked. "Yer a wee brat compared to that monster."

Matt's face turned red. "You'll regret speaking out of turn when you're watching her scratch my itch."

"There's medication for that." Drake countered. "A single dose of lead between the ears will cure all that ails ya."

Liam pounded the door upstairs. "Matt!"

"I'm coming!" Matt yelled. Then he glared at Drake and said. "Monroe will be so grateful that I gave him what no one else could deliver that he'll give me a bonus." Matt rocked on his heels and mimicked Drake's brogue. "I'll have a bit o' fun tuppin' yer wee sister in front of the cop. Then I'll kill him in front of her. When Monroe retrieves her, Daisy will be my new toy. I'll do it all over again with no time restraints. All you'll be able to do is sit there and watch."

"Yer a dead man!" Drake's face twisted with unbelievable rage.

"Struck a nerve did I?" Matt tossed his head back and cackled.

"You filthy pig!" Daisy spat. "You won't get near me again!"

"Aw, now don't be jealous, Wildcat." Matt said. "There's enough of me to go around."

Drake glared at Matt's retreating back as he ascended the stairs. The lights went out and the hatch door fell with a thump. The room was again swallowed in darkness.

"Bloody bastard. I'll feel no shame ending his sorry existence." Drake hissed and put his head against the wall. "Och, my head is ragin'."

"Oh, sugar. Hold on." Daisy moved away in the darkness.

Drake heard her rustling around in the corner. "Has it truly been two days?"

"Closer to three I think," she replied. There was a click and a beam of light appeared. Daisy reached inside the toilet tank, pulled out a bottle of Tylenol, a bottle of water, and a Ziploc bag.

"The others will come for us." Drake said. "The twins will be armed to the teeth."

"Well, we have a guardian angel and aren't waiting around." Daisy returned to offer him a sandwich. "Eat this. It's peanut butter and jelly. You need to be strong enough to walk. It would help if you can fight."

Drake took the sandwich and frowned at the blisters on her wrist. The manacle had pinched and rubbed the skin raw, forming an angry red ring. His rage ignited all over again.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little."

"Fibber." He cradled Daisy's forearm with his hand, tenderly stroking her with his thumb. "I'm sorry, lass. I willnae allow him to harm ye again."

He'd lure Matt close enough to strangle him with the chains. Drake glanced down at the shackles. Unlike Daisy, he had a full set that connected his arms to his feet.

"I always feel safe when I'm with you." Daisy smiled at him then, soft and beautiful, like a ray of sunshine in this cursed dungeon. He was poleaxed. When this was over, he'd take her into his bed and demonstrate all the loving emotions he'd hidden.

"Tell me about this guardian angel and her plan."

"I'll explain while you take these." She shook the pill bottle. "We have to keep th' fever down."

Drake took the bottle and scowled at it. "Tamper evident my arse. I willnae use Tylenol."

A dark eyebrow lifted reproachfully. "You'll take what we have and be grateful."

Drake grunted his disapproval, but tossed the pills in his mouth and chased them with water. They scratched and burned his raw throat.

"Good." Daisy nodded her approval. "Now eat that sandwich."

The sandwich held no appeal. He wasn't remotely hungry, but he forced himself to take a bite anyway. He just hoped it stayed down. The food reached his sour stomach and turned in protest. It must've shown on his face.

"I know it's not much." Daisy said. "Flo will bring something more substantial later. She's a great cook."

"Flo? Our guardian angel is named Flo?"

"Well, that's what I'm calling her. It's short for Florence Nightingale. She won't give me her real name. She's scared."

"Are ye sure we can trust her?"

"Don't be an idiot, Drake. We have to trust her, she's our only hope. Flo's risking her life to sneak down here. She even went through Matt's room to find the key to the cell."

Drake gave the sandwich a dubious look. "Ya could've warned me. Dental work isnae on my agenda. If I'd swallowed the thing we'd be here for bloody days."

"It's not in th' peanut butter," Daisy launched into an explanation. "Matt keeps the keys in his footlocker. Every evening, he leaves Flo alone for a few hours. Tonight when he gets back, we'll be long gone. She gave me all these supplies and this, too." Daisy pulled a small blade from her boot and held it out for his inspection. "If Matt tries to touch me, I'll be ready. She even told me where to…t-to stab him."

"And where is that?"

"In th' kidneys."

"Aye. She's wise for a scared woman." Drake took the weapon and examined it closely. The pointed blade was maybe four inches long, sharp and well cared for. It was high quality steel and attractive, with tiny red and blue jewels set in a row around the pommel. "Hmm…'tis a fancy sgian dubh."

"Ski undo?"

"Aye. A small dagger we Scotsman keep hidden in our kilt hose. Even Jenny has one. It looks a lot like this, too. A dirk is better, but 'tis a handy tool in a pinch."

"Well, I think it's pretty and all, but I'd rather have cast iron." Daisy's eyes narrowed, crinkling the pattern of freckles on her nose. "If I had my skillet I'd flatten Matt's face like a pancake."

"He wouldna stand a chance against my girl." Drake chuckled and then winced from the pain.

"You'll be sore for a few more days I'm afraid." She put a hand on his chest and smiled, sweetly, a little unsure. "So, your girl?"

Reaching out, he ran his fingers tenderly along her jaw and whispered, "Aye. Mine. Ye chase away the darkness." The air crackled with life as he held her gaze. It was hard to tell in the low light, but he was certain she blushed. "You're so verra lovely, Daisy."

Daisy lowered her lashes and broke the spell. "I need a shower and if we're gonna get through this you need to keep eating. I have broth, but the protein is better for you. Who are Giovanni and Salvatore?"

"Mafia." Drake sighed, put his sandwich aside, and cupped her face in his hands. "Mo ghràdh, you're cold. It'll be a long day. Let me keep ya warm while we wait. Come give a cuddle, aye?"

Her hands gripped his arms. "Not now. You have to eat. Please don't be stubborn, Drake."

"Aye, lass. I'll eat, but slowly." Drake sat back. "I'd rather no' have it make a round trip. Now, come come here before yer teeth start to rattle."

"I supposed you can manage two things at once." Daisy propped the flashlight against the wall and ducked under his arm to snuggle against him. She fit so perfectly, like they were made for one another. "You were really sick," she murmured. "I was scared. I thought you were going to die."

"I dinnae, though. Thanks to you. You're a verra brave lass. The bravest I've ever known, next to my sister."

Her head snapped up and her eyes flickered dangerously. "You're just begging to be smacked! What kind of compliment is that?"

"The highest! Ya need to take Jenny's training into account." He lifted Daisy's chin and kissed her tenderly. "You're verra special to me, Daisy. Doona forget it."

She stretched out alongside him, warm and soft. It was quiet for a few moments, then she said, "Drake, can I ask a question?"

"That is a question."

"Stop bein' so contrary. I've wondered about this for awhile and since we have the time to talk…"

"Alright, chatterbox. What do ya want to know?"

Daisy blew out a breath, fluttering her bangs. "Okay, here goes. You said something at Bear Creek, right before you killed Reid."

Drake's stomach cramped, but not from the food.

"Last night, you said her name again."

"Leave it be, Daisy." Drake rubbed his aching forehead. He didn't want to re-visit the past. "I've been throttled black and blue and this is no' the time. Ask me something else."

"No." Daisy sat up, determination shining in her eyes. "We're gonna have this talk. After everything you went through with Finn, Monroe sent Reid after your fiancé. He killed her and you didn't think I should know?"

"Blimey hell. I'll wring Jaxon's neck."

"It wasn't him. I figured most of it out on my own. I called Agent Ferguson when we got to the ranch. Cynthia's death is a matter of public record, so Chuck filled in the blanks. I know Jenny was with you when it happened. I'm so sorry, Drake." Daisy's palm cupped his cheek. "Tell me about her. Don't shut me out of your life, sugar. Let me in."

"No. I cannae. Losing Tia was like falling off a mountain. I'd wake each morn' and for a few seconds I'd forget she was gone. Then the memories would return and I'd see her dying in my..." Drake took a shuddering breath. "I doona want to talk about it."

"I'm asking you to tell me how she lived, not how she died." She kissed him, a whisper soft touch that spread outward until it wrapped around him like a warm coat in winter. "You said I chase away the darkness," she murmured. "It's time to step into the light, sugar. I'll catch you if you fall. Tell me the good things. Tell me about Tia."

Drake couldn't speak. He pulled her closer and tried to gather his thoughts. He'd loved Tia so completely. She'd given him a chance at a normal life and he lost it when she died. Did he dare take another chance with love? Then again, wasn't he already lost to this woman?

He trailed a finger down Daisy's cheek. She wasn't afraid of him, didn't think him broken or weak. She nursed him and cleaned him up after he was sick, yet she hadn't complained, or blamed him for their captivity. Wasn't it time to give something back of himself? Of all the things she could've asked…

Tell me the good things. There were many, many good things about Cynthia.

Drake ignored the stinging in his eyes and stroked her hair as he spoke. "It was Thanksgiving weekend, three years ago. I was in Livingston, on my way to the airport to pick up the twins. Holiday traffic was verra heavy. Tia rear-ended my Scout at a stoplight. It was just a wee dent in the back bumper. I never bothered to have it fixed.

"Her car was totaled, but she was no' hurt. Tia stepped out into the street and I looked into the face of an angel. She had eyes like warm chocolate, long, auburn hair that glowed like a flame, and a tongue like the bloody devil himself. While I stood on the curb like a daft fool, she reamed me out about obstructing the flow of traffic and insisted the police make out a report. When it was over, I was the one with the ticket…and I dinnae care."


Gidget had spent the last few days stashing emergency supplies and food to make a quick getaway. To keep Matt away from Daisy, she'd told Liam the mongrel had been lingering outside her room at night. It worked like a charm and now Liam wouldn't let Matt out of his sight. She prayed he was too exhausted when he retired for the night to even think about touching Daisy.

The day had crept by like an ant through molasses. The men had kept to their pattern of leaving after the evening meal, but supper ended two hours ago. Instead of leaving, the men returned to the office, where they remained in a heated debate.

Tempers were short. While Gidget sat reading in the living room, occasional shouts bled through the office door. She overheard enough to know what Monroe was planning. She took another sip of tea and worried.

If Matt succeeded in capturing the twins, he got Daisy and Drake as payment for services rendered. There was another problem with bringing the twins here. Jaxon was sure to recognize her. She'd be killed on the spot. She had to get the hostages out tonight, under the cover of darkness, or all would be lost.

To make matters worse, Gidget's anxiety over facing Drake had become harder to manage over the last few days. She'd been unable to sleep knowing he was so ill and her focus caused the occasional slip of Scots brogue. To be safe, she'd kept her mouth shut as much as possible.

Part of her was relieved that Drake hadn't seen her face. She wanted a second chance, but she feared his rejection. She could never make up for the lost years. She hadn't even told Emily she was his mother for fear of her rebuke. Gidget would just have to explain why she'd hidden all these years. If the relationship survived that hurdle, there were more waiting down the road. What if her children found out she was Monroe's mistress? Travis wouldn't tell, but the Alcott woman, their associate and mule, was another matter all together.

The office door swung open and slammed into the wall, startling her. Matt stormed out and threw a box at Gidget's feet. The return label read, Bergdorf Goodman.

"That's your whore's dress for tomorrow," he spat.

"That's it!" Liam charged across the room and slugged the younger man, knocking him to the floor. Gidget shot to her feet and moved behind her chair.

"I told you to speak to Gidget with respect!" Liam shouted. "Now get up! We have to finish at the landing site."

"We'd already be there if it weren't for you." Matt grumbled and staggered to his feet. His jaw was red and beginning to swell. "Was it really necessary to re-arrange every bit of my plan for the exchange?"

"You should thank me for that." Liam said. "You made fatal errors in your approach. Never, ever, underestimate the MacFarlands. Their father might be a helpless bean counter, but his offspring are lethal weapons."

Gidget dug her fingers into the upholstered glider to keep from shaking. Ian MacFarland wasn't helpless. He was a violent monster, a powerful mastermind, hiding his true nature behind an executive desk. Drake isn't like him. Daisy said so.

"I'm trying to keep you alive." Liam said. "Now apologize to the lady."

"I'm sorry, Gidget." Matt looked humbled. "You too, Liam. I'm sorry for being so short tempered. You have a valid point. We can't risk the twins being seriously injured in the process."

"That's exactly right." Liam stepped back and relaxed his stance. "Giovanni wants them ready when they reach the island. He's counting on a big turnout for their first fight later this month."

"I understand and appreciate your help. It's an honor to work with you. No hard feelings then?" Matt extended his hand.

"I'll make a gentleman out of you yet." Liam crossed the room and took his hand. "Omph!"

"Liam!" Gidget screamed and her hands flew to her mouth.

Matt had jerked him forward with lightning speed and buried his long bladed knife under his ribcage.

"My brother gave me this knife." Matt hissed and twisted the blade. "It's wasted on you. I warned you not to push me around. Tomorrow I tell Monroe that the twins killed you at the exchange and by next week, no one will even remember your name."

Liam let out a strangled gasp and knocked over the coffee table as he fell. Blood spread across his chest and pooled on the floor.

"No! Liam!" Gidget raced to his side and held his hand. "Oh, Liam. I'm sorry."

Liam might be one of Monroe's cleaners, but he never leered or looked at Gidget with disgust in his eyes. He was always kind to her and now he was dying for defending her tarnished reputation. She was about to lose her only protection from Matt.

"T-take my gun…s-stay…safe…" Liam's hand reached for his holster, then dropped to the floor at his side. With one last breath, he was gone.

"I'll take that." Matt snatched Liam's Magnum out of the holster and slipped it in his belt.

"You animal!" Gidget's fury had erased her fear. "You killed him!"

"Oh shut up, slut. Back off or you'll be next." Matt shoved her aside and wiped the knife on Liam's shirt. He cut a grey lock of hair from Liam's scalp and tucked it in his pocket before standing to address the group. "Daryl, grab the body. We'll bury it in the woods."

"You can't!" Gidget shouted without thinking. "Victor will want his uncle to have a proper funeral!"

"Victor will take over as Monroe's top cleaner. He doesn't care about funerals. They knew the risks when they signed up. Make sure you clean up this mess while we're gone." Matt turned savage eyes on the men. "Anybody else have a problem with Liam's accident?"

The men shook their heads in denial. Gidget didn't expect anything different. The men wanted their pay. Trouble meant no money, or worse. Death. No one left Monroe's employ alive. She scooted to the wall and made herself very small.

Matt moved to the keypad and said, "Don't wait up for me. I'll come to your room later and get you warmed up for the boss. Monroe wants his whore in top working order."

Bile climbed Gidget's throat. She took deep breaths, willing herself to stay calm so she could catch the numbers as Matt punched in the code. The keypad beeped and the lock opened with a clack. Thank God. She finally had all the digits.

Gidget kept very still while the men donned coats and hats. In a state of shock, she watched them drag Liam's body out the door, leaving a long crimson stain across the wood floor. It could've been Drake. Tomorrow it might be her twins. She had to get them out, had to save them, all of them.

The door clicked shut.

Once she was sure Matt wasn't coming back, she grabbed the box, crawled to her feet and ran to her room to gather the supplies stashed under the bed.

This was it.

They were out of time.


Emily had cried until she had no tears left. In thirty-five years, she'd rarely spent time away from the ranch. If Gus was out on the range, at least she was surrounded by his essence. She missed him horribly and would do anything to be at home, busy in her kitchen, or safe in her bed.

Her arthritis had flared horribly during her short captivity. Gidget was doing everything she could to help her, but her joints were swollen and it was difficult to move. They were supposed to sneak away tonight, but then what? Another long ride on horseback? She'd just have to grin and bear it. She wouldn't let her condition slow the kids down.

A key in the lock had Emily on her feet. The door swung open and Gidget stumbled inside.

"Good heavens!" Emily hurried to take Gidget's arm. "What's happened to you? Is that blood?"

"What?" Gidget held out her hands and looked down at her cashmere sweater. "Oh, dear. Yes. It's…it's Liam's. Drake cannae see me this way."

Emily watched Gidget walk like a zombie to the small bathroom. She wouldn't make eye contact and seemed detached as she washed the dried blood from her hands.

"Gidget, what happened to you? Are ya' okay?"

"Matt killed Liam for defending me." She shook her head and reached for a towel. "Everything we need is in two backpacks outside the door. I brought a coat and a jumper for ye. Put them both on. It's verra cold. We're leaving and dinna have much time."

"There it is again! You have an accent!"

"I do not!"

"Don't tell me stories." Emily crossed her arms with a stern look. "Where are you really from? Ireland?"

"Damn." Gidget cursed. "One would think after fifteen bloody years of practice I could control m' tongue. Between being so tired and all the stress, the Scots has slipped a wee big now and then."

"Scottish." Emily's hands fell to her sides and she repeated in wonder, "You're Scottish."

"Yes, but Monroe cannae find out. It's good that we're leaving before he learns my secret, too." Gidget dried her hands and stepped out of the bathroom. When she raised her eyes, Emily grabbed the doorframe for support.

"Have mercy!" Emily's hand went to her heart. How had she missed what was standing right in front of her? "You're their mother. Drake and the twins. They are your children!"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't believe it, except for..." Emily tipped her head, examining Gidget closely. "Your daughter is beautiful, you know. She'll look just like you in thirty years or so, despite being a bit shorter."

Gidget took a ragged breath and whispered, "My Jennifer was always a wee thing. Jaxon stole all the height." She pulled a lace handkerchief from her pocket to dab her eyes. "My sweet Jaxon. I've missed them so." Her lips turned up in a smile. "The twins were verra close as children, ye ken? Drake and Finn looked out for them. I've often wondered if that changed after Finn died. I hope not."

"No. Not at all. They're bonded together so tightly nothing could come between them." Emily stepped closer"Jaxon has your smile. And Drake, he has your eyes. How is this possible?"

"I told you that first day. Monroe threatened someone important to me. There's nothing more important to me than my children."

A righteous anger flickered to life inside Emily. "Then why haven't you contacted them? Those children needed their mother and you just disappeared! Do you have any idea what you've put them through?"

"Yes." Gidget frowned. "And I hate what I've done, but I had a reason. There's no time to explain, but there will be when we're safe. Get a wiggle on, luv. We have to go."

She walked around Emily and retrieved a wool coat and sweater from a pile beside the backpacks. After shrugging into it, she picked up another cardigan and coat. The coat was long, a heavy shearling with a hood. She handed it to Emily. "It's the warmest I have. Put it on and come with me. It may take all of us to get Drake up the stairs. Pray that he's awake."

Emily jammed an arm in the expensive coat as she followed her down the hall. "Are ya' telling me that Drake doesn't know his mother is coming to the rescue?"

"He's been unconscious, Emily!" Gidget pulled the lock picks from her hair and started working. "When was I supposed to tell him?"

"Daisy's been awake. Did ya' warn her?"

"No. 'Tis my responsibility to explain." The lock clicked. After grabbing a hammer and crowbar from the backpack, Gidget swept in the room.

Emily followed, grumbling under her breath. "This is gonna be ugly."

She found Gidget dragging a heavy footlocker away from the wall. With one whack, she broke the lock free. She flung the lid open and began throwing things out with both hands.

"The key is in an old Crown Royal bag in the bottom," she said, flinging items over her shoulders.

Emily was shocked at what came out of the footlocker; belts, leather straps, whips and chains. Then Gidget tossed a shoebox on the floor. It fell open and Polaroid photos scattered everywhere.

Emily shuddered at the images. "Lord Almighty! He's sick! If he's touched Daisy…"

"He'd be dead if he tried." Gidget said, tossing back a small notebook and a clear plastic bag. "Aha! Found it!" She lifted a huge jailer's key ring.

Emily didn't notice. She was staring at the plastic bag that fell at her feet. She picked it up to get a closer look. "What is this stuff? It looks like hair."

Gidget spun around, the keys jingling in her hand. "Oh, shite!"

"Gidget?" Emily stared at the woman and back at the bag.

"Put it in the side pocket of the backpack. We're taking it with us." Gidget scrambled to the trap door and put the key in the padlock.

"But what is it?"

"Exactly what it looks like. Matt's souvenirs from his ... his victims."

"Oh shit!" Emily gasped and dropped the bag.

"I've heard a scientist in Leicester, England is working with human DNA." Gidget made a face as she fought the difficult lock. It finally opened and she tossed it aside. "Maybe in the future, we can give closure to the victims families."

Emily gulped and stepped away from the bag. "I'll…um…just g-get that on th' way out."

"It'll take a minute to pick the lock on the shackles. Matt must keep that key on him." Gidget braced herself against the bed and pulled open the hatch door. "I'll go first. Do not touch the remote. I'm no' sure what the bloody things does."

"Okay. I'm right behind ya'." Emily hurried to the opening and said a quick prayer. With all the trauma in Drake's past, she had no idea how this would affect him. To see his mother for the first time in fifteen years...here...like this? She crossed herself and said another.

Gidget clicked on her flashlight. Emily took a deep breath and followed her down the stairs.