“If it’s not too late, I want to do it. It’s time for us to be free.”

He scrubs his hand over his face. “I can’t…I can’t let them put you up there. They’ll destroy you.”

“They can try.” A smile tugs at my lips. “But after what I’ve been through, they won’t succeed.”

“You’re the bravest person I know.” He chokes on his words. Tag is so not a sentimental guy. “I’ve never met anyone with so much courage. You could have let him ruin your life, but you didn’t. You found a new way forward. And now, after you’ve just been through it all again, you’re willing to try and bring him down.”

“That’s ’cause I have you standing behind me.” Something niggles at the back of my mind and I frown. “That’s my only worry. You may be considered a witness to the crime. Wouldn’t you get in trouble for not reporting it? And didn’t you have to report the conflict when you found out it was him? What’ll happen to you if I come forward?”

He stands and walks over to the wall of pictures. “I would willingly give up my career if it meant even one woman would be spared what you went through. I would be proud to go to jail for it. Maybe once the DA knows why we made the decision we did, I’ll get off with just a warning. But even if I don’t, I won’t let you stand up there alone. If the DA agrees, I’m going to testify too. The truth will be out there, and the lawyers can sort out whether our testimony stands or not.”

I join him at the wall and wrap my arms around him. “We’re going to do this, Tag. After all these years, we’re going to be free. Together.”

“You’re going to do it,” he says. “I’m just along for the ride.”

* * *

Monday morning I walk into Torment’s office.

Without knocking.

Torment looks up and scowls. I meet his scowl with one of my own.

“I’m taking the job managing the Redemption studio.” I fold my arms and lean against the wall. “I’ll start on Friday, after I take care of a few legal matters. I’m keeping the team. I expect you to leave me alone with respect to business decisions unless I ask for your help. That includes hiring, firing, selecting and ordering equipment, marketing, and decor.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Decor?”

“That’s right. I’ll be hanging paintings to showcase local artists on the walls. No car race murals allowed.”

Torment’s eyes twinkle with amusement, and he leans back in his chair and laces his hands behind his head. “Anything else?”

“I’ll need a few months off about seven months from now. I’ll make sure there is someone fully trained to run things in my absence. Nonnegotiable.”

His gaze drops to my stomach and he raises an eyebrow. But ha-ha, Torment. There is nothing to see yet.

“I choose the name,” he says. My heart skips a beat because for a moment I think he’s figured out my little secret, but then I realize he’s talking about the studio.

“Not if it sucks.”

Torment chuckles. “Redemption Ink?”

“No.”

“Torment’s Tats?”

“Definitely not.”

“Forbearance?”

I sigh. “Is that a joke?”

“Yes. You’re almost as difficult to handle as Makayla. But maybe I don’t need to be reminded about it every day. How about Phoenix, since you’re starting new?”

“Hmmmm.”

“Phoenix it is.” He slams his hand on his desk, and I jump. “I’ll get my people on that right away. Look for your new sign tomorrow. But I have a condition.” He strokes his chin and studies me for a long moment. I take deep breaths and pray my bravado doesn’t give out. This was just supposed to be a quick in and out. My nerves are already stretched to breaking.

“What is it?”

“The first set of paintings to go up will be yours.”

My heart sinks. “That might take a while.”

“As long as it takes. But I’m hoping the blank wall will be a motivator.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles an entirely benign, un-Torment-like smile. “Took you long enough. I was beginning to think I might actually have to hire one of the people I interviewed.”

“I had a life to sort out first.”

“You have a man to sort out next,” he says. “He’s taking out his frustrations on my fighters. I had to arrange for an ambulance to be on permanent standby.”

For the first time since I walked into his office, I manage a smile. “That’s on the agenda.”

* * *

The next day, I go to Ray’s apartment. My heart drums in my chest as I stand outside his door. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I don’t get a chance to make the speech I’ve had running through my head for the last few days? What if he doesn’t want the baby?

Taking a deep breath, I push the what-ifs away. No matter what happens, I’ll survive. And once I testify against Luke, I’ll really be able to move on. I’ll live the life I’ve always wanted to live. I just hope I don’t have to live it alone.

I knock.

Silence.

Then, footsteps.

My heart pounds when the door swings open.

Oh God. He’s so banged up—black eye, swollen cheek, tiny bandages on his temple and chin. Instinctively, I reach out to touch him and he steps back. Away.