Rated Mature for Adult Content.

Robin felt a little better once she was locked behind her deadbolt. She had sent Elizabeth home believing that everything was fine, that she was probably just wary of so much happiness and that's why she was thinking about Logan. As if she had ever stopped thinking about him. She rubbed her hand over her neck and tried to relieve some of the tension she found there. What if she wasn't going crazy? What if he had been there? What if he was watching them? He would have followed her back here. He could be waiting for her in any of these rooms.

No. Robin shook her head. She was being paranoid. That was all this was. She was worrying over nothing. Logan was far, far away. He wouldn't be stupid enough to return, not with his outstanding arrest warrant. She was over thinking as usual. This was just jitters. Everything was finally in place; she had just one more week until she was scheduled to give birth. She was married to the most wonderful man and she had never seen Morgan happier.

She thought about calling Patrick, but ignored that urge. This was his last day to practice before the race in Florida and she didn't want to bother him. She could get Uncle Mac over here, but would he find anything? Even if he did, did she really think it would make her feel better to know that someone had been here recently, been in her room, in the kids' rooms? Robin forced herself to take a deep breath. All of this stress wasn't healthy for Nathan and she had to remember that. A week or not, he was still developing and she hadn't forgotten Dr. Walker's warnings, or Ric Lansing's for that matter. It wouldn't take much…

There must be something on television. Maybe she would luck out and the soap operas she used to love to watch would have been canceled and replaced by something better. One could only hope. She pressed the ON button and flipped through the channels, stopping only when she found an old black-and-white. While she couldn't remember the plot or the title, there was something soothing in just sitting here and listening to their words. Before she realized it, she was fast asleep.

When she awoke, she had not idea how much time had passed. The movie had morphed into another one and it was on mute. She couldn't remember muting it. Jerking into a shaky, yet standing position, she twirled around. If there was someone here, she was going to find out who it was. She couldn't let fear overwhelm her. The kitchen was too far away and he could have just as easily been hiding in there. No, she would go to Patrick's office. It was an open area with only one entrance. Keeping her back to the wall, she slithered closer without making a sound. She pulled the center drawer open and searched meticulously for a weapon. Satisfied, she pulled out the letter opener. It was small, but effective. It would allow her enough time to get away, she reasoned. The air seemed to thicken as soon as she stepped out of the office and headed for the stairs.

Unlike the last time she had felt a foreign presence in her home, she didn't call out or give any indication that she had left the couch. Her bare feet were soundless on the carpeted stairs and she made sure to keep her back against the wall to keep from being surprised. Despite all of the self-defense she knew, it would be useless to her in her current state. The gun. It was a fleeting thought. Where was it? Had she unpacked it? Were there bullets in it? She bet not. She wouldn't take that kind of chance with Morgan in the house. The bedroom. The gun had to be in there. In the closet maybe? Definitely not under the bed. If it was still packed, she wasn't going to get a chance to look for it. She would have to depend on the weapon she was holding between her thumb and index finger.

She could feel the adrenaline kicking it. Whether fear or self-preservation had triggered it she didn't know, but she was grateful. She would need all the strength she possessed to confront the assailant. Maybe if she convinced herself it was a robber she wouldn't feel as scared. But she knew it wasn't a robber. It was him. It was always him. She felt it in the tips of her fingers, her toes, and the certainty of her instincts. Would she be able to get away? Was it too late? And Morgan? Could she get to him in time?

Don't think about it, a voice instructed her. One thing at a time. Keep yourself safe and get to your child. Do not beat yourself down with what could have happened. If this little pep talk was supposed to calm her, it was failing. Her breaths came in short, raspy chokes. If Logan hadn't heard her by now, he soon would. Then she would be found out. She had to keep going; she had to get to Morgan. If nothing else, she had to get him out of here.

Two feet, she told herself. Two feet remained between where she stood and Morgan's door. She would sweep in, put her hand over his mouth if she had to—she didn't want to scare him too badly—and get him down the stairs. She would carry him if she had to. Dr. Walker wouldn't like it, her straining her back that way, but the woman didn't have any children so what the hell did she know anyway? Her lips formed his name because she couldn't say it aloud as she pushed the door open. She spun around in a circle. The room was empty. The game was paused. Everything that had been on the bed—the sheets, blankets, and pillows—were shoved into one corner. Other than that, there was no disruption to the room.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Why hadn't she grabbed a phone? He was in here; he must still be in here. She hadn't heard a sound. But she had been sleeping. Why had she left him all alone? Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Only Nathan's swift kick to her stomach snapped her out of the panic that was taking her over. Find Morgan. She had to find Morgan. Would he be hiding under the bed? In the closet? No and no. In his bathroom? No. She checked the window. Still bolted shut. No broken glass. Her eyes scanned the room again and again. She must have missed something.

The phone screamed from the living room and she hurried to get it, leaning heavily on the railing to keep from tumbling down the stairs. She jerked it out of its cradle and put it to her ear. "Morgan? Patrick? Hello?"

"'He who takes the child by the hand takes the mother by the heart."

"Who is this?" Robin demanded angrily.

"Do you like that? It's a Danish proverb. Very effective, don't you think?"

"Who is this?" Robin repeated.

"You know who this is." The voice sneered.

"Where is my son?"

"I don't think I'm going to tell you."

"Logan, please?" Robin begged weakly.

"Why should I give him to you? What do you want him for? You're about to have your real son."

"If you hurt him, I swear to God."

"You'll what? Kill me? I'd like to see you try."

"What is he worth to you? Why did you take him from me?"

"Maybe because it's about time someone did. What, you couldn't handle competition so you had to take out my cousin? And then her husband too? I have to say, your hands are a lot dirtier than I remember."

"I had nothing to do with—"

"Save it. I don't care. The fact of the matter is, you have everything and I have nothing."

"That's your fault. You chose for it to be that way."

"I didn't choose anything. You stole it all away from me. Everyone I cared about. I lost it all. And now it's your turn."

"Logan, please. Give me back my son."

"I'll make you a little deal, hmm? If you can answer one little question for me, I'll give Carly's bastard back to you. Is that fair?"

"I don't want to play games."

"If you want your little boy back, you'll play mine." Logan assured her. "Now, let's see. One little question. Ah, how about this? Were you already fucking my brother when we were married?"

"What? No. Of course not!"

"See, I think you're lying."

"I'm not lying!"

"But how can I know that that's true? I saw the way you always watched him. You were drooling after him like a puppy dog. And you expect me to believe that you didn't weasel your way into his bed?"

"Logan, I swear. I didn't start seeing Patrick until later. After the divorce was final. Last year." Robin was crying now because she knew he wasn't going to give Morgan back. This was her fault. If she had just put him away when she could have instead of forcing herself to see the good in him. The good in a monster? What a joke! And now she was going to pay. First, Morgan would pay. She had brought this on him. Her sweet little boy with his wide brown eyes and shaky smile. Was he scared? Did he understand what was going on? Could she get him back before anything else happened? She had to.

"I'm sure I'll regret this later, but tell you what. I'll let you know where Morgan is and you can come and get him."

"What's the catch?"

"You always were too clever for your own good, weren't you? Is my offer too simple? Do you demand a better climax to the end of this piece of shit story?"

"No. No." Robin trembled.

"Well have it your way."

"No. Logan, tell me where Morgan is. Tell me!"

"Don't order me around. I can just as easily shoot him now and save you the gas. Would you prefer that?"

"Don't hurt my son. Please, don't you hurt him."

"It'd be nothing compared to what you've done to him. You took his life long before I ever could."

"Let me talk to him." Robin demanded suddenly.

"Oh I don't think so."

"Then how do I know you have him? I want to talk to him now."

"How many times do I have to tell you? This is my game and I get to make up all the rules. For instance, I expect you to come alone. And this isn't a request. If I so much as smell a cop, I'll blind the kid. Do you understand me?"

"Y—yes." Robin promised.

"That's a good girl. I knew you could be reasonable given the right incentive. Now I know how much you want to call someone and tell them all about our little chat. In fact, I'm guessing you're wishing you had grabbed your cell phone so you could be calling them while talking to me, which by the way would be totally rude. However, since I can see you…" He gave her enough time to look out the window where she suspected he was. "That's right. I have you in my sights. Morgan isn't with me I'm afraid, but don't worry. I know how strict you are when it comes to babysitters and I promise, the guy I left him with is totally willing to play ball. That is, if you do. One little phone call Robin, that's all it will take for your perfect little world to blow up in your face."

"I understand."

"Do you? Don't lie to me, okay? You couldn't possibly understand what I'm going through, the pain you've inflicted on me. I don't want your sympathies. You don't know what pain is." Logan insisted hysterically. "But don't you worry now. I'm going to teach you a little something about it right now."

"Logan, don't hurt my son." Robin pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want. Just leave him alone."

"I'd rather kill two birds with one stone if you know what I mean." Logan cackled.

"There's no reason for that. I'll do what you want. I'll go where you want."

"I'm not used to hearing compliance in your voice. I think I like it."

"Where do you want to meet?"

"I want you to get in the car and turn left at the first stop sign you come to. Keep driving until I tell you to stop."

"Okay." Robin grabbed her car keys.

"And don't forget about those rules now."

"I won't."

"See you soon." And then the line went dead.