Chapter 2

Allie pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and tried to curl her legs into her chest without pulling on her fresh stitches. She tried to calm the shivers that wracked her body, but they kept coming. She was laying on a cot, tucked into the far corner of one of the wings of the emergency room in the Regina General Hospital. She wanted to ask for a blanket, but didn't want to disturb any of the busy staff that were rushing by her tiny curtained cubicle.

She'd been in the hospital for nearly three hours. The first hour had been waiting to get into the cubicle, the next had been waiting to see a doctor and the third had been waiting for her doctor to sign the release forms. She wished she could say it was just an extra busy day at the hospital. She knew better. It was always like this. She'd accompanied people there on more than one occasion.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to suppress another shiver. Sighing she ran her hand lightly over her arm, avoiding the heavy bandage on her bicep. Her fingers caught in the tangled strands of long dark hair. She shoved it out of the way impatiently and moaned when she jostled her arm. She wiggled her hips in an attempt to get more comfortable on the small metal frame bed when the curtain moved and light flooded her eyes.

Allie blinked up as a man stepped forward. He wasn't wearing scrubs like the nurses and doctors.

She frowned and blinked in the harsh light. "Derrick?"

She knew she was wrong though. Derrick said he wasn't coming. He barely cared enough to acknowledge her text. It was only her stupid heart that hoped he might rush to his injured wife's bedside that made her send that text in the first place. He wasn't even coming home from work to check on her. That was how much he cared. No, the man standing before her was not her husband.

"Hello, Allie."

Heart thundering, Allie pushed herself up using her good arm. She blinked against the brightness of the light, her mouth opening in disbelief. It was impossible. He couldn't be here with her. Could he? Yet the deep, measured voice could belong to no one else.

He looked so good it made her body ache in a way nothing else could. He looked older than she remembered. It had been five years since she last saw him briefly at Veronica's wedding. His hair was completely grey now, prematurely, she thought. He was thirty-nine. His grey eyes looked wearier, harder than she remembered, framed by lines that weren't there before. His body leaner, as though he didn't eat enough. He exuded solid strength though, despite the lean frame.

"Jay," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

His eyes caressed her face and the corner of his lip lifted in a tiny smile, softening the always present hard edge. The only time she'd ever seen Jay Le Croix smile was for her or her mother. Never for anyone else. Allie lifted her arms, ignoring the painful pull of her stitches and leaned forward trusting him to catch her as she slid forward off the bed. Strong arms enveloped her, holding her tight. She breathed in his familiar scent as he rocked her against the strength of his body. One hand cupped the back of her head, holding it against his shoulder, while the other hand swept down her back comfortingly. He was careful not to touch her where she'd been cut. Somehow he'd found out about her injuries and come to her.

They stood that way for a long time, looking to all the world like a couple in love locked in an embrace. Finally, Allie indicated she was ready to pull away. Reluctantly Jay allowed her a few inches of space. She looked eagerly up at him, taking in all of his features. Jay ran his fingers lightly through her long, dark brown tresses, automatically restoring some order to the wavy chaos with his reassuring touch. Despite an age difference of ten years he had been her best friend for much of her life.

When Allie had been a child, her mother had watched over the orphan boy as though he were her own. Veronica had made sure he was fed when his foster homes forgot. More than once she'd given him a roof over his head when things got too bad to stay in his placement. When he was old enough to care for himself, he returned the favour by watching over Veronica and her young daughter. He made sure none of Veronica's clients got too rough and he helped Veronica get clean when she was ready to make the choice. When he was able to run a crew of his own, Jay worked his way up the streets until he was able to create enough legitimate business opportunities that he could get Veronica and Allie off the streets.

Allie adored Jay all of her life. Her mother assured her the infatuation would wane. It didn't. With each passing year it only grew until Allie became old enough that Jay began noticing Allie too. Veronica and Jay agreed that Allie was too good for the life he'd chosen. The life that had chosen him. She was destined for better things. When Allie turned eighteen and gradated from high school, her excellent grades and, unbeknownst to her, Jay's maneuvering, earned her a scholarship to a university two provinces away. Allie didn't want to go. But Jay had insisted.

The separation had been difficult. She'd cried for him every night. She'd written him letters and phoned him. He never answered her letters and rarely picked up her calls. When he had, it was monosyllabic responses before abruptly ending the call. Confused and hurt, she'd finally decided to forge a life without him. When she visited her mother, she stubbornly avoided talking about him and almost never saw him. The last time she'd heard from Jay was three years ago to receive his decline to her wedding and an extremely beautiful pearl necklace as a wedding gift.

She'd only seen him twice in the ten years since he'd sent her away. The last time she'd actually seen Jay had been at Veronica's wedding five years ago. He'd walked the bride down the aisle, turned to Allie, held her close for several seconds pressing his lips against her temple and then leaving abruptly. The time before that was seven years ago when he'd come to her apartment out of the blue. She'd just graduated from the Addictions Education program and had accepted a job as an Addictions Counsellor. He wanted her to quit.

"It's too dangerous, Allison."

"Of course it's not! It's perfect for me. It's something that I've always wanted to do. With the way I grew up and my mother's past, it's practically the only think that makes sense for me. Why can't you just support me in this?" she'd pleaded with him.

"Support you? I pulled you out of the fucking gutter! Now you want to jump in head first. I refuse to support this shit."

"Jay! You don't get to dictate to me. You shut me out of your life years ago. Now I'm living it the way I want to."

"Tread carefully, little girl. I can wrap you in chains just as easily as I set you free."

But that was years ago. Now, as Allie looked up into the eyes of the man that used to possess her every thought, those same words echoed in her mind. His gaze hardened on her face. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"We're going home, Allie."