As dusk settled, Jamison called and told her not to go home that night–he’d be coming by her apartment on campus.

Ivy couldn’t hide her delight. “You’re finally not working late tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a smile in his voice, though she could still hear the weariness beneath it. “Got everything sorted at the hospital, and the old lady was discharged this afternoon. I’ll head out as soon as I hang up.”

Ivy’s heart ached a little for him. “It’s over an hour’s drive for you, and you’re exhausted. Why don’t I just come home instead?”

“Boyd’s driving.”

“Oh, then that’s alright.”

“Think about what you want for dinner. You’ve been running yourself ragged lately–I swear you’ve lost weight. Let’s have something hearty tonight.”

The way he said “hearty” made it clear he meant nourishing food, but to Ivy, it sounded like there might be more to it than just a good meal.

After they hung up, Jamison shrugged off his lab coat and headed out. But before he could leave, the OB–GYN department called.

“Dr. Ludwig, that Emma… she just got dragged off by three men. It was a pretty big scene. Should we call the police?”

Jamison’s expression didn’t change. “Leave it. Don’t get involved.”

“But she still owes us for her medical bills. If she skips out, the department’s going to have to cover it,” the nurse pressed–not wanting their effort to go unpaid.

“I’ll talk to administration. Your department won’t be held responsible for her charges.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ludwig.”

Jamison ended the call and headed downstairs. Boyd was already waiting outside the hospital with the car.

As soon as they pulled away, Boyd checked the rearview mirror and said, “Uncle, the Carter family sent people to drag Emma home this afternoon. It was like something out of a public health commercial–three or four guys in white hazmat suits practically shoved her into their car.”

Jamison had already heard about it and barely reacted. “They took her back to the Carters?”

“Yeah. My guess is Sheridan’s short on servants again, or maybe he just ran out of people to take his temper out on. He knows Emma’s been hiding out here on the pretense of needing bed rest, so he sent some men to force her home.”

Boyd heard plenty of gossip from the bodyguards tasked with watching Emma, so he was well–versed in all the Carter family drama. His guess wasn’t wrong.

Emma could’ve left the hospital ages ago, but she’d been clinging to her hospital bed to avoid Sheridan.

Sheridan had sent people to check on her at first; when he saw she really was at risk of miscarriage, he believed her. He didn’t know whose child Emma was carrying, but he understood one thing: if she lost the baby, she’d go straight back to jail.

Sheridan was terminally ill. The treatments left him in constant pain, his temper grew more vicious every day, and the only relief he found was in tormenting others. He didn’t want Emma sent back to prison. He wanted her close, to beat her, to watch her suffer, to keep her trapped in his own personal hell.

Madness and cruelty–by now, the two were inseparable.

“Doesn’t matter what they get up to,” Jamison instructed. “Just make sure Emma stays away from Ivy. That’s all I care about.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle. We’ve got Emma under surveillance, and Ivy’s got people watching out for her too. Double coverage–nothing’ll happen.”

“Good.”

Jamison drove straight to campus to pick up Ivy, and they went to dinner first.

The moment Ivy slipped into the car, Dr. Ludwig couldn’t help himself–he leaned over, all earnest, hoping for a kiss.

Ivy blushed, gently pushing him away and whispering, “Stop it. Behave yourself.”

Boyd chuckled and kept his eyes forward, teasing, “Ivy, you’re among family here–don’t worry about appearances. You two go right ahead. I promise to keep my eyes and ears to myself.”

Which only made Ivy more embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed scarlet as she scooted a little farther from Jamison.

But Jamison gazed at her, frowning, his voice soft with concern. “You really have lost weight. Eat a little more tonight, alright?”

For some reason, no matter what he said these days, Ivy always thought there was some hidden meaning behind it.

“Eat a little more tonight.” She couldn’t help interpreting it as: “You won’t be getting much sleep tonight.”

The thought alone made her shiver.

After a short drive, they reached a busy street near campus. Boyd parked, and as Ivy reached for the door, Jamison caught her hand.

“Hm?” She turned, puzzled, but before she could say a word, Boyd had already hopped out, moving faster than she could.

Ivy caught on instantly, but before she could react, Jamison pulled her back, and she tumbled into his warm embrace.

His kisses fell like rain, relentless and overwhelming. She pressed her hands to his chest, trying to turn away, but he held her fast, his palm warm at the back of her head, refusing to let her go.

Ivy was speechless.

Jamison had been overwhelmed at work lately–physically and emotionally drained. Even when Ivy came home, he rarely made it before midnight. He would never wake her just to satisfy his own needs; at most, he’d hold her in his arms, seeking comfort in her warmth.

But tonight, finally getting off early, he was determined to make up for lost time.

Ivy understood, of course. Still–this was an open parking lot!

Okay, so the rear windows were tinted, but anyone could see straight through the windshield. Wasn’t he worried about being recognized? What if someone snapped a photo and posted it online? The whole world would be watching.