…life isn’t hard to manage when you’ve nothing to lose. - Ernest Hemingway

You’re sexy as hell, Briel, but you’ve got issues. -Text from Liam Monroe, May 2

If she could have named the emotion she saw on his face, Briel would have called it terror. Quite a surprising emotion on the face of such a giant human being. He said nothing, but he didn't have to – Briel knew what he had heard. Over the past twenty-four hours, she had debated: should she warn them what was going to happen? If she did, it would undermine her past three weeks of work. And she knew some things that her companion didn't know. Maybe she could convince him that the situation was not as bad as it sounded.

“It's Felicity,” her companion spoke softly, shielding the phone with his hand. “Someone kidnapped her.”

Briel tried to look shocked. Mostly, she felt curious about whether or not she would see a monstrously huge man break down in girly tears. Not that she would blame him, but she just felt base curiosity. Shaking herself, Briel recognized compassion as it leaked into her psyche. She really had grown to care about these people. Though part of a job, she had let herself become much more involved in the little family in Phoenix than she could afford. She had trained herself to respond to such situations with utmost coolness, unaffected in any way by the tragedies that played out around her. Still, Briel's stomach clutched with regret as she thought of Felicity's lovely young daughter and the two little cherub-faced boys

“Lissie...Lissie, are you there?”

Lissie, are you there? The question shocked Briel, throwing her mind into a spin. He had just addressed Felicity directly. Which meant that somehow, Jase had done it – snatched Felicity Miller out of the hands of traffickers. Briel had expected a lament, the terror of the unknown, but the truth proved totally unexpected. Her cool indifference melted into pleasure as she realized the significance of the words. Felicity Miller was supposed to be dead, or as good as. If Jase Hamilton had somehow succeeded despite losing his sanity over a woman, Briel would celebrate, both for the sake of herself and of Felicity’s family – Felicity’s affectionate brother. What a mess! she snickered.

“Tell Felicity you'll come get her!” Briel commanded inaudibly. Not only would Jase’s success offer relief for the family, it would make Briel’s job so much simpler. If Briel could regain access to Felicity, the mission would unfold much easier. Who needed a grade-B computer geek to hack into files when she had access to the person with the passwords?

“I'm coming to get you is what I'm doing!” her companion commanded. Briel rolled her eyes at him in disgust; if someone had spoken to Briel in such an authoritative tone, she would have resisted just for principle's sake.

As the remainder of the conversation unfolded, Felicity Miller's boldness surprised Briel; the in- every- way- unremarkable housewife repeatedly turned down any offer of help from her brother – no damsel-in-distress revealed itself in her actions. Instead, Felicity just asked for one thing, and threw a wrench in all of Briel’s new excitement.

“I have a couple K in my savings,” Briel heard her companion say. “That would be no problem.”

No, no, no! Briel screamed silently. A moment before, Briel had seen her plan transform from mortally dangerous to a walk in the park. Now, though, Briel realized, I'm back to square one. Money gave Felicity resources. Resources removed any reason for the woman to come back to her brother.

Under the hum of her rapid-fire planning, Briel couldn't help noting the comical gentleness of the broad-shouldered man who stood more than a foot taller than she did. Even with all her training, she wouldn't enjoy going up against him in a fight – not if she went by the look of him. Of course, having spent a lot of time with him, she thought she could probably blow him over with a breath, He would fall over for fear of hurting her feelings. Wuss, she snickered internally. If she were honest, though, she admired him - she'd never met anyone like him. For some people, bluster proved empty, a promise for action that would turn into a sprint the opposite direction. Something about this man's intensity, though. Yes, he kind of avoided confrontation. Yes, any time he raised his voice she didn't believe him. Still, something in the intensity. She wondered if somehow, he would prove more substantive if faced with a tangibly dangerous situation.

“But you can't just take off with no direction...” His voice brought her back. “No, you're being ridiculous. Fine. I'll send it in the morning.”

Damn, Briel scolded silently. Why couldn't he have the steel to make Felicity come home? Briel knew why, actually – anyone who saw his face would have known. The powerless exasperation, the fear, the pain. If he pressed Felicity too hard, the woman would cut off communication, and the gentle giant would crumple if he thought he had lost his sister.

Briel found compassion once again overwhelming all semblance of professionalism. I'll try to save her, Briel pledged silently. I can't make any promises, but I'll try.

Within minutes, Briel excused herself and fled the house where she had, despite all her best efforts, grown thoroughly enmeshed in the occupants' lives. Heart and soul. If she did not extricate herself soon, Briel feared she would never quite recover.