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I sat back and ran my hands through my hair. I couldn’t afford to get my hopes up too much. I’d have one chance to apologize and try to at least answer her questions about how Dan died and why.

The rest of the night passed slowly, with me tending bar, and watching the clock, hoping the hands would turn a lot faster than they were. My co-bartender Curt let me go fifteen minutes early, so after I cashed out, I left the bar and took my usual route down the street to where I caught my train.

The streets were pretty empty, and as I walked, I thought about the next day and hoped that Beckett could say something to me that would convince me I could forgive him. At that moment, I was startled when I passed a darkened doorway and of all people, Steve stepped out in front of me.

I stopped up short and gasped, then covered my mouth when I realized it was him.

“Steve,” I said and exhaled loudly. “What are you doing here?”

Of course I already knew what he was doing there. I had hoped he wasn’t really interested in me, but I’d been fooling myself, hoping he’d eventually get the message.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he said and held out his

arm like he was a gentleman helping me onto a cart in some Victorian romance. Even from where I stood, I could smell the liquor on his breath. He’d been drinking. From the way he swayed, I could tell it was a lot.

“I’m fine,” I said and frowned, not taking his arm. “I’ve lived in Manhattan for years and know how to look after myself.”

He shook his head. “It’s midnight, and it’s dark. There are all kinds of strange people on the street. How do you know that one of them wouldn’t hurt you?”

I pointed to the subway entrance down the street and kept walking. “That’s my subway stop. I’m not afraid because I know the trains and don’t feel unsafe. Not at this time of night. Manhattan’s always busy. The city that never sleeps, right?”

He shrugged. “It’s pretty deserted around here. If someone wanted, they could force you into a back alley and assault you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Leah told me you were working late tonight so…”

“Thanks, but really,” I said and started down the steps. “I’m fine.”

He caught up with me and took hold of my arm. “Hey, not so fast,” he said and smiled, his grip on my arm a bit too tight. “Have a drink with me before you go home.”

I frowned and tried to pull my arm away. “It’s late,” I said, my voice low. “I’m tired and you’ve already had enough.”

His grip lessened but he didn’t let go. Instead, he stroked my arm and then took hold of my shoulders. “I know that Beckett guy broke your heart,” he said. “I’m here for you, if you want to spill. You can cry on my shoulder.”

I made a face and pulled away, but he wouldn’t let go. “I’m fine, Steve,” I said and laid my hand against his chest. “I don’t need a shoulder to cry on, thanks.”

“Come on,” he said and pulled me closer, his grip tight as if he took my hand on his chest as an invitation for intimacy. “I know that he hurt you. Leah told me everything.”

He tried to push my head onto his shoulder like he wanted me to cry.

“Steve,” I said and then he tried to kiss me, one hand on my jaw, his lips missing my mouth and mashing against my cheek only because I tried turn my head away.

“I care about you, Miranda,” he said when I finally was able to pull out of his arms. “I’ve been there for you all summer, and when I saw you with him, I knew he’d break your heart…”

I stepped away and wiped off my cheek, which was wet from his sloppy kiss. “I’m fine,” I said.

“How could you sleep with a jerk like him?” he said and stepped closer to me, running his fingers through my hair. “Someone who could never appreciate you like I do.”

I glanced around and wanted to run, but he was blocking my way to the entrance. Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me into the narrow alley between the two buildings. I struggled with him, but he was much stronger and managed to pull me into the alley a few feet.

“Steve, stop,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse with shock and fear.

“Hey!” I heard someone shout. When I turned, I saw Beckett standing at the entrance of the alley. He rushed over and grabbed Steve by the collar and pulled him away from me. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

Beckett shook Steve and Steve didn’t resist. Beckett had about fifty pounds on him and was a few inches taller.

“You leave her alone,” Steve replied, his hands on Beckett’s, which were almost wrapped around Steve’s neck. “You broke her heart.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Beckett said, his fist rearing back, “before I punch your lights out. I could report you for assault…”

“Don’t,” I said and put my hand on Beckett’s arm. “Let him go. I just want to go home.”