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“Dallie—”

He raised his voice. “Don't you think that might have been the time to call me up on the telephone and say, 'Hey, Dallie, we've got a little problem here I think we should maybe sit down and talk about'?”

She buried her fists in the pockets of her jacket and hunched her shoulders against the chill, trying not to let him see how much he was frightening her. Where was the man who had once been her lover—a man quick to laugh, a man amused by human foibles, a man as slow and easy as warm molasses? “I want to see Teddy, Dallie. What have you done with him?”

“He looks just like my old man,” Dallie declared angrily. “A pint-sized replica of that old bastard Jaycee Beaudine. Jaycee beat up women, too. He was real good at it.”

So that's how he had known. She gestured toward her car, unwilling to stay any longer in this dark quarry and listen to him talk about beating up women. “Dallie, let's go—”

“You didn't figure on Teddy looking like Jaycee, did you? You didn't count on my recognizing him when you planned this dirty little private war.”

“I didn't plan anything. And it's not a war. People do what they have to. You remember what I was like back then. I couldn't go running back to you and ever have a shot at growing up.”

“It wasn't just your decision,” he said, his eyes sparking with anger. “And I don't want to hear any of that feminist horseshit about how I don't have any rights because I'm a man and you're a woman, and it was your body. It was my body, too. I'd damn well like to have seen you have that boy without me.”

She went on the attack. “What would you have done if I'd come to you ten years ago and told you I was pregnant? You were married then, remember?”

“Married or not, I'd have seen you were taken care of, that's for damn sure.”

“But that's the point! I didn't want you to take care of me. I didn't have anything, Dallie. I was a silly little girl who thought the world had been invented to be her personal toy. I had to learn how to work. I had to scrub toilets and live on. scavenged food and lose whatever pride I had left before I could gain any self-respect. I couldn't give that up and go running back to you for a handout. Having that baby by myself was something I had to do. It was the only way I could redeem myself.” The closed, settled expression on his face didn't ease, and she was angry with herself for trying to make him understand. “I want Teddy back tonight, Dallie, or I'm going to the police.”

“If you were going to the police, you'd have done it by now.”

“The only reason I've waited is because I didn't want the publicity for him. Believe me, I won't put it off any longer.” She stepped closer to him, determined to let him see that she wasn't powerless. “Don't underestimate me, Dallie. Don't get me mixed up in your mind with the girl you knew ten years ago.”

Dallie didn't say anything for a moment. He turned his head and stared off into the night. “The other woman I hit was Holly Grace.”

“Dallie, I don't want to hear—”

His hand whipped out and caught her arm. “You're going to listen, because I want you to understand exactly what kind of a son of a bitch you're dealing with. I slapped the shit out of Holly Grace after Danny died—that's the kind of man I am. And you know why?”

“Don't—” She tried to pull away, but he only gripped her tighter.

“Because she cried! That's why I slapped her. I slapped that woman because she cried after her baby died.” Harsh shadows cast by the headlights slashed his face. He dropped her arm, but his expression remained fierce. “Does that give you any idea what I might do to you?”

He was bluffing. She knew it. She felt it. In some way, he had cut himself open so she could see inside him. She had hurt him badly and he had made up his mind to punish her. He probably did want to hit her—only he didn't have the stomach to do it. She could see that, too.

With more clarity than she wished for, she finally understood the depth of his pain. She felt it through every one of her senses because it mirrored her own so closely. Everything inside her rejected the idea o

f living things being hurt. Dallie had her son, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep him for long. He wanted to hit her, but it went against his nature, so he was looking for another way to punish her, another way to make her suffer. She felt a creeping chill. Dallie was smart, and if he thought long enough he just might find his revenge. Before that happened, she had to stop him. For both their sakes, and for Teddy's sake, she couldn't let this go any further.

“I learned a long time ago that people who have lots of possessions spend so much energy trying to protect what they have that they lose sight of what's important in life.” She stepped forward, not touching him, just making certain she could look him directly in the eye. “I have a successful career, Dallie—a seven-figure bank account, a blue-chip portfolio. I've got a house and beautiful clothes. I have four-carat diamond studs in my ears. But I never forget what's important.” Her hands went to her ears. She pulled the backs off the studs and then slipped the diamonds from her earlobes. They nestled in the center of her palm, cool as chips of ice. She held them out to him.

For the first time he looked uncertain. “What are you doing? I don't want those. I'm not holding him for ransom, for chrissake!”

“I know that.” She rolled the diamonds in her palm, letting them catch the glare from the headlights. “I'm not your Fancy Pants anymore, Dallie. I just want to make certain you understand exactly what my priorities are— how far I'll go to get him back. I want you to know what you're up against.” Her hand closed around the diamonds. “The most important thing in my life is my son. As far as I'm concerned, everything else is just spit.”

And then while Dallie watched, Black Jack Day's daughter did it again. With one strong movement of her arm, she threw her flawless four-carat pear-shaped diamond studs far out into the darkest reaches of the quarry.

Dallie didn't say anything for a moment. He lifted his foot and rested his boot on the bumper of the car, staring out in the direction she had thrown the stones and finally looking back at her. “You've changed, Francie. You know that?”

She nodded.

“Teddy's not an ordinary boy.”

The way he said it, she knew he wasn't issuing a compliment. “Teddy's the best kid in the world,” she answered sharply.

“He needs a father. A man's influence to get him toughened up. The boy's too soft. The first thing you have to do is tell him about me.”

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