The armored SUV rolled slowly away from the rusted iron gates, the headlights cutting through the heavy rain.

An old man stood directly in the middle of the path. Arthur, the Harmon family's longtime butler, clutched a broken umbrella, his body shaking in the wind.

Cale pressed the brake pedal. The heavy vehicle came to a smooth stop. He looked in the rearview mirror, waiting for Javier's order to force the man out of the way.

Javier stared at the old man through the windshield. His expression didn't change. He raised one hand, signaling Cale to wait.

Ella heard the squeak of the brakes. She threw herself across the wide leather seat, pressing her palms flat against the cold glass of the window.

Her shaking fingers fumbled for the button. The thick bulletproof glass slid down, letting the freezing wind whip into the heated cabin.

Arthur stumbled forward. Tears streamed down his deeply wrinkled face as he looked at Ella's soaked, shivering form.

Ella shoved her scratched hand out into the rain. Arthur grabbed her fingertips, his hands trembling violently. A loud sob ripped from his chest.

"Survive, Miss Ella," Arthur choked out, his voice cracking. "Never look back. Just survive."

Ella's eyes burned. Her throat closed up tightly. She ripped her hand away and spun around, dropping to her knees on the floorboard to face Javier.

She pressed her palms together in front of her chest. "Please," she begged, her voice a raw scrape. "Take Arthur. Take him with us."

Javier leaned back against the headrest. His dark eyes slowly dragged over her kneeling, pathetic posture.

"No," Javier said. His voice was flat and even. "My residence is a secure location. I do not harbor useless liabilities."

The dam broke. Hot tears flooded down Ella's freezing cheeks. She lunged forward, her fingers grasping for the cuff of his coat.

Javier swatted her hand away without hesitation. He reached over and pressed the master control switch on the door panel. The window glided up, sealing shut and cutting off Arthur's loud wailing instantly. As the SUV accelerated, Javier caught Cale's eye in the rearview mirror. He gave a subtle, sharp nod, tapping his index finger against the armrest twice. It was a silent, pre-established signal. Cale understood immediately: dispatch a secondary team, secure the old man, and place him in a discrete, fully funded assisted-living facility. Ella didn't need to know.

The tires gripped the wet asphalt, leaving the old man shrinking rapidly in the side mirror.

Ella collapsed backward onto the leather seat. She pressed both hands hard over her face, her shoulders shaking as a muffled, ugly sob tore out of her throat.

Javier opened the center console. He pulled out a perfectly folded, pure white cotton handkerchief and held it out toward her.

Ella didn't look at him. She shrank away from his hand, pressing her back flush against the cold door panel.

Javier's face hardened. He dropped the white square of fabric onto the empty space between them and looked out the window.

The only sound left in the cabin was the low hum of the engine and her jagged, wet breathing.

Minutes dragged into an hour. The violent adrenaline crash and the freezing cold finally drained the last drop of energy from Ella's body.

Her crying slowed to occasional hiccups. Her head rolled sideways against the glass, and her eyes slid shut.

The SUV merged onto a rough patch of the interstate. The heavy chassis bounced over a deep pothole.

Ella's unconscious body tipped sideways.

Her head dropped hard onto Javier's thigh. Her soft, cold cheek pressed directly against the expensive fabric of his suit pants.

Javier's entire body went rigid. The muscles in his thigh locked tight. He could feel the faint, warm puffs of her breath seeping through the fabric to his skin.

Cale's eyes darted to the rearview mirror. "Sir. Should I pull over?"

Javier looked down at the girl sleeping on his leg. He stared at her pale face for three full seconds.

He raised his hand and gave a sharp flick of his wrist. Keep driving.

The black SUV sped down the pitch-black interstate. The rhythmic hum of the tires against the wet asphalt filled the silent cabin.

Two hours passed. Javier's right leg began to burn with a dull, heavy numbness from the weight of Ella's head.

He shifted his knee a fraction of an inch to relieve the pressure in his muscle.

The tiny movement disturbed Ella. Her eyebrows pulled together in a tight V, and a whimper slipped past her lips.

Her hands shot out in her sleep. Her fingers clamped down hard on the fabric of Javier's pants, her knuckles turning white.

A fresh tear leaked from the corner of her closed eye. It rolled down her cheek and soaked into his pants, leaving a dark, wet stain.

Javier stared down at the expanding wet spot. A heavy, uncomfortable tightness formed in the center of his chest.

He slowly lifted his right hand. His leather-clad fingers hovered an inch above her damp hair.

His jaw clenched. He did not remove his glove. Instead, he extended his hand, the stiff black leather of his index finger pressing almost roughly against her cold skin as he swiped the tear away. He immediately retracted his hand, his muscles coiling tight as if he had just touched a live wire.

The heat from his skin seemed to ground her. Her rapid breathing slowed, and the tight crease between her eyebrows smoothed out.

Javier flexed his fingers inside the leather glove and returned his arm to the armrest.

At three in the morning, the streetlights of the D.C. suburbs began to flash through the windows, casting moving shadows across the seats.

Cale pulled the SUV to a stop outside an unmarked, secure transit garage. He put the car in park.

He turned his head slightly. "Sir, should I wake her for the transfer?"

Javier looked at the exhausted girl. "Get out," he ordered coldly.

Cale nodded, opened his door, and stepped out into the damp night.

Javier pushed his door open and stepped out. He walked around the front of the vehicle and opened the driver's side door.

As he settled into the driver's seat, Ella, still asleep, slid sideways on the back seat—the angle of the parking garage ramp tilting her loose, limp body toward the floorboard.

Javier reached back instantly. His large hand gripped her shoulder, stopping her from hitting the floorboard.

He didn't wake her. Leaving his seatbelt unfastened, he leaned over the console, and pulled her limp body over the seats, settling her into the passenger side.

He leaned across her, pulling the seatbelt over her chest. The metal tongue clicked into the buckle right next to her hip.

Javier started the engine. He put the car in drive and headed toward the center of the city.

The first harsh beam of morning sunlight pierced the windshield, hitting Ella directly in the eyes.

She blinked rapidly. Her eyes opened, staring blankly at the massive glass skyscrapers towering above them.

She realized she was sitting in the front seat. She whipped her head to the left and saw Javier's hands on the steering wheel.

Panic seized her throat. She shot up straight, pressing her back hard into the seat. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Javier didn't take his eyes off the road. "Regulate your breathing," he ordered. His voice was flat and steady.

The absolute calm in his tone acted like a physical weight on her chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath, her racing heart slowly decelerating.

She swallowed hard. "Where are we?" she whispered.

Javier turned the steering wheel with one hand. The SUV descended into the private, brightly lit underground parking garage of a high-rise building.

He pressed the brake, bringing the car to a halt. He turned his head and looked directly into her eyes.

"This is your home now."

Javier unbuckled his seatbelt. He pushed the heavy door open and stepped out, his leather shoes echoing sharply against the concrete floor of the empty garage.

Ella fumbled with her seatbelt. Her fingers shook as she pressed the red button. She practically fell out of the car, scrambling to keep up with his long strides.

Javier walked up to a set of brushed steel elevator doors. He pressed his thumb against a glowing biometric scanner. The doors slid open in total silence.

They stepped inside. Javier hit the button for the top floor. The elevator shot upward with a force that made Ella's stomach drop.

The doors chimed and parted. They stepped directly into a massive penthouse. The walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, the furniture sharp, modern, and completely devoid of warmth.

A middle-aged woman in a crisp uniform stood waiting in the foyer. Brenda Doyle.

Brenda's face stretched into a wide, overly eager smile the second she saw Javier. She hurried forward.

Javier shrugged off his overcoat and shoved it into Brenda's hands. He pointed a long finger at Ella. "She is your responsibility now."

He fired off a rapid list of instructions. He listed Ella's dietary restrictions and sleep schedule with the cold efficiency of a military briefing.

Javier pulled his leather wallet from his inner jacket pocket. He slid out a solid black metal credit card and tossed it onto the silver tray on the console table. It landed with a heavy clink.

He checked the heavy silver watch on his left wrist. His jaw tightened.

He turned back to Ella. "I am leaving for an overseas assignment. I will be gone for fifteen days."

The air left Ella's lungs. Her eyes widened in pure panic, and she took a desperate step toward him.

Javier ignored her movement. He turned on his heel and walked straight back into the elevator. The steel doors snapped shut, cutting off her view of his face.

The numbers on the digital display rapidly decreased. The penthouse fell into a suffocating silence. Ella stood completely alone in the center of the massive room.

The moment the elevator reached the ground floor, the fake smile melted off Brenda's face. Her eyes narrowed into a look of pure disgust.

Brenda pointed a finger down the long, dark hallway. "The last room on the left. Don't make a mess."

Three days passed. Brenda took the black card and disappeared for hours. When she returned, she brought back cheap, frozen microwave meals.

Ella sat at the massive marble kitchen island. She stared down at the greasy, processed meat on her plate. Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to swallow it, terrified of causing trouble.

The cheap additives in the food began to build up in her system.

On the seventh night, Ella lay in the freezing guest bed. Her skin burned. Thick, angry red hives covered her arms and chest. She shivered violently under the thin blanket.

She forced herself out of bed. Her legs felt like lead. She stumbled down the hallway and knocked weakly on Brenda's locked door.

"Go to sleep and shut up!" Brenda yelled from inside. The volume of the television instantly blasted louder, drowning out any further noise.

Ella's knees buckled. She slid down the wall, hitting the hardwood floor. Her throat began to swell shut.

She gasped for air. A high-pitched wheezing sound tore from her chest. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision.

Whisper, the stray cat Cale had delivered in a sterile carrier two days prior under Javier's strict "pest control and asset pacification" directive, jumped out of the shadows. The cat paced around her legs, meowing frantically.

Ella's hand fell limp against the floorboards. Her eyes rolled back, and the world went completely dark.

The next morning, Brenda unlocked her door and stepped out, yawning. Her foot kicked something soft.

She looked down. Ella lay motionless on the floor, her face a terrifying shade of blue, her chest barely moving.

Brenda screamed.

Her hands shook violently as she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed 911. Ten minutes later, the wail of ambulance sirens pierced the quiet morning air outside the building.