"How is she?" Cary asked on the second day and he walked into Isabelle's apartment. He had been working at the State's Attorney but his mind had been elsewhere whilst he had been there. Ian had not left her apartment and he had kept his daughter locked in the room. He was making her go cold turkey before she went out and got more heroin to feed her addiction which she wanted.

"I thought I told you last night not to come here?" Ian checked. "And the night before."

"Well I don't take advice very well," Cary said. "I asked how is she."

"She's fine," Ian snapped. "She's nearly recovered."

"Well can I see her?"

"Are you serious?" he snapped. "Do you honestly believe I intend to let you see my daughter after what you said to me?"

"I don't think it matters what I say to you," Cary spoke. "I care for your daughter."

"So does half of the male population," Ian complained. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Well I don't fancy your daughter to be a flying fling," Cary said.

"I don't even want her to be that to you," Ian hissed. "She is far too good for you."

"I work in the State's Attorney and have my own car," Cary said dryly. "I'm good enough."

"You're too cocky for my liking," Ian decided.

"Well it is a good job for you that I don't want to date you," Cary rolled his eyes.

"Cary?" a sudden voice called out from the doorway. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Cary replied, standing up and moving over to the doorway, pressing his ear against it as he heard Isabelle on the other side.

"Can you come here?" she asked him and Cary looked at Ian.

"That depends if your father gives me the key."

"He will," Isabelle decided. "Daddy...just let me out my room...I'm fine."

Ian reluctantly handed Cary the key, unable to keep his daughter locked up in her room as she sounded clean to him and he knew when she was genuine. Cary unlocked the door and slowly opened it up, seeing Isabelle sat on the end of her bed and she smiled weakly at him as Ian pushed past him and he kissed his daughter on the top of her head.

"You don't know how worried I was," Ian spoke. "I thought you were going to go back to how it was...but I'll find him...I will..."

"Okay," Isabelle simply said. "And thanks...for keeping me here..."

"It was no problem darling. You know that," he said to her and she looked at Cary and then back to her dad.

"You can go home dad," she told him and he narrowed his eyes at her and she shook her head.

"I'm fine daddy," she said to him. "Just...please...we can talk later."

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed with her. "I'm going to find Marcus and I'm going to sort this out."

"Dad," she complained slightly.

"I'm going Is," he assured her. "I'm going to sort this out."

"Okay," Isabelle said. "I'll see you later."

"Don't leave this apartment and do not be on your own."

"I'll stay with her," Cary stated. "I promise."

"That's part of the issue which bothers me." Ian complained and Cary chuckled once as Isabelle looked at the two of them.

"Have I missed something?" Isabelle wondered and Cary shrugged.

"There's nothing," Cary assured her. "Nothing important anyway."

"Okay," Isabelle said and Ian nodded.

"I'll go," Ian said and he began to walk out. "Remember my conditions."

"How can I forget?" Isabelle complained as he shut the door of her apartment and she looked at Cary as he sat beside her on the end of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he wondered.

"Like death warmed up," she spoke lightly. "And I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"For you having to see like you did."

"You don't need to apologise for what someone did to you," he told her. "And you're fine now."

"I know," she complained and yawned. "I've had two days in here and have had the chance to sleep but I haven't wanted to."

"Well you can now," Cary said.

"Will you stay?"

"Of course," Cary promised and shrugged out from his coat, dropping it onto the end of the bed and moving his body up, settling down on the cushions as Isabelle moved back hesitantly, resting her head onto his shoulder as he grasped onto her hand. "I was worried."

"You were?"

"Of course," Cary replied. "You're my PA. I have to care."

"Shut up," she complained. "And I'm not your PA anymore."

"Much to my dismay."

"Really?"

"Of course," Cary promised her. "Besides...my new PA doesn't make my coffee right."