I'm happy to give you the latest chapter, chapter 4 being in the works as you read this. My schedule is getting a little more complicated, especially because it's the holiday season. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up by Thanksgiving as a special treat to you readers. Until then, here's the newest installment. :) Enjoy.

"You're right," Sara flung a finger in my face. "We do need to talk. What was he doing here? Does Lou know about this?"

I shook my head and played dumb since I knew she wouldn't remember anything in the morning.

"Nothing's going on," I responded as I sat next to her on the couch. "With me, at least. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and leaned on me, her head on my shoulder. "I'm tired."

I furrowed my brow.

"I wanna go home. ...Bye," she said as he suddenly stood up.

"Whoa. You're not going anywhere," I hurried off the couch to stop her.

I cringed and placed my hand on my stomach for the millionth time that night as I reached out and grabbed Sara's wrist. She turned around in time to see me cringe and followed me as I fell toward the arm of the couch.

"Oh...that's right. You're hurt. It's my job to babysit you. I forgot."

She pulled my hand away from my stomach and lifted my shirt to inspect the damage once again.

"I don't need you to babysit," I said as she lightly ran her fingertips over my stitched up scar.

"You should be upstairs...resting in bed."

I shook my head again, but Sara already had her arm around my waist and hoisted me to my feet.

"I'm fine," I said as she continued to escort me to the stairs.

"Nope. I'm not buying it," she slurred a little less.

"Listen, if anyone needs to lay down it's you," I defended myself.

I tried to switch the roles between the human crutch and the damsel in distress, but, even drunk, Sara Sidle still beat me when it came to an extra strength grip.

"Hey, no, the only place you're going is into your bed to sleep the night away," she said as she pulled me closer.

As we reached the final step, Sara stumbled forward and it took everything I had to keep her from falling on her face.

"Ah," I yelped.

I felt the rest of my stitches ripping apart and couldn't stand the pain.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Look, this is why you should be in bed."

"Even if I had been in bed, you'd still be at my door and I'd have to get up to let you in anyway," I snapped.

She frowned and I immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out that way."

"It's okay," she said after a beat.

She took me by the hand and gently tugged me into my room. "You just need to rest."

I stared at Sara as she pulled me closer and closer to the bed.

"Why are you so hell bent on taking care of me?"

"Because," she started as she slowly crawled onto my bed and collapsed on her back.

She never finished her sentence, which left me to wonder.

"Because...what?"

I eased myself onto the bed with her and slowly fell onto my back.

She took a deep breath and sighed before she rolled onto her side and used her left arm to support her as she lifted my shirt again.

"That's one reason," she said as she pointed at the scar on my stomach.

She pulled my shirt up further, above my bra, and pointed at the scar on my chest.

"And that's the other," she concluded.

My jaw slowly dropped as I propped myself up on my elbows and looked from the scar to Sara.

She looked up at me with blood shot but soulful eyes and froze. In that moment, I slowly pulled down my shirt and kept eye contact with her.

I felt something between us then, but I couldn't understand it. For a second, I was breathless.

Sara draped her arm over my stomach and curled into my side. I gasped and immediately tensed up. I didn't know what to do.

"I should've known something was wrong. I should've turned back and asked you to come to my place for a few drinks. I knew something bad was going to happen that day and I did nothing."

"No, Sara. You couldn't have known," I said as sadness took control over my heart when I realized what she was talking about.

"I'm glad I shot him. I'm even happier knowing he's dead, but it doesn't make a difference after what he put you through."

"Sara, don't do this to yourself."

"Do what? I should've found you sooner."

"Don't beat yourself up. Peter Landau was a sick individual that succeeded at every twisted thing he set his mind to."

"Hmm," she hummed into my side as she nestled herself further against me.

After a beat, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as I leaned back and started to relax.

"I couldn't save you. ...I can't save my marriage. What's wrong with me?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. When I opened my eyes again and stared at the ceiling, I ran my right hand through her hair and drifted into a worrisome sleep.

I woke up the next morning with a warm body pressed against me and a moment of panic that forced my eyes out of my skull. I whipped my head to see the person I had managed to sleep with and recognized the shoulder length, brunette locks. The night before rushed back to me when I saw Sara sprawled out, half on top of me. Although, I didn't remember how Sara had managed to take over the right side of my body with one leg tangled between my calves and her right arm extended to the pillow beside my head. I was completely trapped underneath her arm alone.

"Sara," I softly said as not to rudely wake her.

I propped myself up on my elbows and attempted to sit up, but the weight of her leg kept me stationary. I gently shook her with my free arm, but she hardly moved an inch.

"Sara!"

"Mm," she groaned and rolled away from me.

I lightly laughed as I felt cool air hit my leg and sat up in the bed. I shook Sara again, but I only received another groan.

I shook my head and crawled out of bed. I headed straight for the closet and peeled off my shirt. As I stared at all my clothing options, out of the corner of my eye I noticed myself in the mirror. I took a better look at my reflection and walked toward the mirror with disgust. The only thing I saw were two large scars dominating what little I had left to show off in my less than youthful age.

I slid my fingertips over the scar that started from my collar bone and went down my chest and sighed. My eye sight drifted south and I stared with discomfort at the large scar across my stomach. I touched it with my fingertips as well and held back a few tears. I would never look the same again. I was damaged at best.

A hand startled me as it laced fingers with mine and caused me to look to my right.

Sara stood next to me with an expression of understanding on her face and I immediately relaxed. I didn't feel the need to have control for the moment, to appear strong and unaffected. The fact that she didn't even need words to make me feel safe didn't hurt either.

Then, the door bell rang.

I let go of Sara's hand and turned back toward the closet. I quickly grabbed the first clean shirt that caught my attention and slipped it on.

I brushed past Sara without saying a single word and trotted down the stairs to get the door. I flattened out my shirt with my hands and briefly messed with my hair before I answered and when I pulled back the door, I was surprised yet again to see who stood on the other side.

"Lou!"

"Hey," he said, concern written all over his face with several grocery bags in his hands. "I wanted to come see you last night, but I thought you would be sleeping by the time my shift ended. So...I'm here now."

He stepped inside without my permission and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I closed the door and followed him as he headed into the kitchen.

"I got you some soup and a few vegetables. I thought you'd like a good, home cooked meal, too, so...for dinner, I brought some steak, mashed potatoes and," he paused as he pulled something out of one of the bags he had placed on the counter top. "A dozen cupcakes."

"Oh, uh, thanks," I said at a loss for words.

"Can I get in on those cupcakes," Sara asked as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Lou's eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder at her.

"Oh," I said as I looked behind me at Sara then back at Lou.

"Sara," Lou said with surprise. "That's your car out front?"

"Yeah," she said as she looked between Lou and me. "Uh, I had the night off and thought I'd check in on Catherine."

"Oh. Okay," he said before he popped open the plastic cupcake container. "Have at it."

She walked around me and stood on the opposite side of the counter from Lou. Lou offered her a cupcake, which she soon accepted over the counter, and Sara immediately licked the icing she collected during the transfer off her finger.

I stood there in a physical triangle and tried to piece together the explanation behind why I felt odd.

"Catherine," Lou called to me with a confused expression. "You zone out or something?"

"Huh? Um, yeah. Sorry. I'm a little scattered lately," I replied.

"He asked if you'd already eaten," Sara said as she leaned on her forearms on the counter, a bit more icing missing from her cupcake.

"No," I answered.

"Do you want to go out to eat somewhere or-"

"Actually, I need to see the doctor."

Sara sprang away from the counter and came straight over to me.

"That's right. Your stitch," she said as she remembered.

"What," Lou asked, obviously lost.

"She pulled the same stitch from a few nights ago. She needs to get it re-stitched."

"Oh," he jumped into action as well. "We can take my car."

Sara guided me toward Lou and Lou took my hand as he helped me out the front door.

"It's not like I'm pregnant. I can handle getting into a car," I spoke up.

Sara shut the door as Lou and I made our way down the slanted driveway to his car, but when I looked over my shoulder, she still stood on the porch.

"You guys should go. I really need to get home," she said.

"All right," Lou responded.

"Wait," I softly spoke as I continued to look over my shoulder while Lou hustled me into the car.

Sara looked at me as she reached her own car with eyes that spoke volumes of sorrow and regret. Just when I thought I had her figured out, she showed up at my place drunk and threw me for a loop.

After getting my stitches fixed for the second time in three days, I was returned to my boyfriend with a warning to be more careful in my fragile condition.

"Thanks, Doctor, I'll do my best," I said as Lou stood up to greet the two of us.

Just because I said I would do my best didn't mean I wasn't going to go home and bust another one just as quickly, though. I decided to bet against myself and predicted I would end up in the hospital again within the next twenty-four hours.

"Thank you again for seeing her, Doctor," Lou said as he extended his hand for a shake.

The doctor shook his hand and smiled.

"I'm happy to help. Miss Willows is an excellent patient. Though, I don't want to see too much of her," the doctor held his smile and looked at me.

I forced a smile and met his gaze.

"Try to wait until your check up next week before coming back here, all right?"

"Got it," I continued to force a smile.

"Until then," he said with a small wave and walked away.

Lou and I made our way to the exit, his hand on the small of my back as we walked.

"Do you think you'll actually listen to him this time," Lou asked as we made it to the parking lot.

"It's not a matter of listening, Lou," I pushed.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he pressed.

"And I don't want to have to deal with these stitches, but sometimes we're a little late for things to go our way."

He frowned and pulled me to a stop in front of his car.

"Is there something you want to talk about," he asked with concern.

"No," I sternly answered.

"Something you need to talk about," he asked as he pushed the subject.

"No," my voice started to waver.

"Catherine, I'm tired of you always having to act all high and mighty, like you're untouchable. You really aren't invincible. It's time to let people in."

I scoffed and shook my head.

"I learned I wasn't untouchable not too long ago, Lou. I think I've outgrown your little speech," I angrily said.

He shook his head as I tried to walk away and grabbed my forearm. He pulled me back toward him and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Catherine. I don't know what game you're playing and what sick satisfaction you're getting out of it, but I need you to talk to me," he pleaded.

"That's all you want from me?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Do you want me to talk about how I was helpless for hours? About how I was stripped of my confidence? About how the knife felt when it punctured my skin? Or do you want me to talk about how you weren't even there when they found me?

Or how about the way it makes me feel to think about that night? The fact that I can't even close my eyes without replaying every painful second of the attack. What do you want me to talk about, Lou? I've got a lot to talk about, but you know why I don't talk about it? ...Because I don't want anyone to hear me. I want to be left alone. I want to know that no one wants a damn thing from me because I don't have anything left to give!"

I didn't even realize I had started crying until I tasted the tears that poured out of me after my meltdown.

Lou stared at me with his jaw on the ground, speechless for the first time in our relationship. He wasn't the only one to stare, though, as several on-lookers passed through the parking lot and in and out of the hospital's front doors. I took a look around at the groups of people staring then looked back at Lou. He furrowed his brow, but still couldn't form any words.

I shook my head and walked away.

"Hey, where do you think you're going," Lou called out, finally able to speak.

"Home," I yelled as I pulled out my cell phone.

"You're not walking home," I heard him start to chase after me.

I turned around and sighed as I lifted the phone to my ear, the number I wanted to call already dialed.

"You can't stop me even if I did walk," I said as the line connected me. "Hey. Can you come pick me up?"

Lou stared at me like he had seen a ghost.

"I'm at the hospital about ten minutes from the lab," I explained. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

I hung up and continued through the parking lot toward the sidewalk. I didn't look back and didn't hear Lou follow me.

"Thanks for the ride, Russell," I looked ahead at the road.

"You're welcome," he said as he smoothly operated his silver hybrid.

"Why don't you tell me about Peter Landau," Russell asked me as I navigated him to my house.

"What's there to tell," I answered.

"Oh, come on. I know what Sara's report said and I was there to track the case myself, but, uh, I don't know what it was like from your perspective."

"Sara doesn't deserve to be jerked around. She should be out in the field and you know it."

"We're not talking about Sara, Catherine."

"We might as well be," I said before I turned to look at him. "She's the one who saved my life."

"Yeah, that's true. Listen, I don't want to pry, but I'm going to."

"That makes no sense," I contorted my face in a fit of frustration.

"Catherine-"

"I don't want to talk about him," I interrupted.

"You don't want to talk about why I had to pick you up from the hospital, you don't want to talk about Landau. What do you want to talk about?"

I sighed and looked out the passenger side window.

"You're going to make a left at the light," I flatly said as I carelessly pointed at the next intersection.

"Clearly, Sara was wrong about you," he softly spoke.

"Excuse me," I asked out of outrage and whipped around to look at him.

"Well, she said you were ready to go back to work, but that's not case, is it," he stated.

"I'm more than ready."

"You haven't even gone to see a counselor. You need to pass the psych evaluation before I can let you back on any cases."

"I'm aware of what I need to do."

"Then tell me about Landau."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes, which made me feel like my nineteen year old daughter, Lindsey.

After making the turn at the light, I looked at the familiar neighborhood I recognized as home. Too bad it didn't feel like home anymore.

It didn't matter that I was attacked plenty of miles away from my street. I still felt vulnerable wherever I went if I was alone. I knew Lou would keep me company and I learned not too long ago that Agent McQuaid would be there for me, but even with them by my side, I felt more alone than I'd ever felt in my life. My late ex-husband, the infamous Eddie Willows, didn't even come close to the amount of loneliness Lou and McQuaid caused me. That said a lot since Eddie was usually either drugged out of his mind, sleeping with a zillion other women, or passed out in a drunken stupor.

"The house with a wide front porch and slanted driveway," Russell brought me out of my thoughts. "That's it, right?"

"Yeah," I shakily answered, disturbed by my revelations. "Thanks again for picking me up."

"No problem," he said as he pulled into my driveway. "I just hope next time the person that dropped you off doesn't abandon you."

"I abandoned him," I hesitantly informed him as he came to a stop.

I opened the door and eased my way out with a hand to my stomach to ensure all my stitches were still in tact.

"Hey, Catherine," I called up to me as I put my hand on the top corner of the door.

I turned around and bent down.

"I'm sure he was only trying to help."

"Thanks for the advice," I flatly said before I stood and started to shut the door.

"And, Catherine," he called out again.

I blew out a sigh and bent down as though it were a major chore.

"Sara's not working because she hasn't passed her psych evaluation."

"Yeah, right. If that's some kind of ploy to get me to talk to the department shrink, it's not going to work. I know for a fact that she took it last week."

"Yeah, she took it and yet, she still can't work. Explain that."

"What? Are you saying she failed?"

"I'm saying you two have a lot more in common than I imagined when I first started working here."

My jaw slowly started to drop as I shut the door. Russell wasted no time and drove off, which left me to question what really happened that night I was attacked.

Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. In fact, write a review and give me some feedback. It always makes my day. :)