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she placed her half-empty glass on the nightstand.

He lunged at her, covering her body with his massive presence. “What is this evil you speak?”

She couldn’t contain her laughter. “Oh my God, you freaking ogre!” She pushed him away and he conceded. “See that, Mr. Detective. I’m stronger than you think.”

His smile was pure delight against his light brown skin. “Don’t be long, okay? I’m afraid of the dark.” He winked and rolled over, stuffing the down pillow under his head.

It had been years since she felt so energized. She grabbed her laptop from the living room, filled her wine glass, and ventured to the screened in porch. She left the door open, but careful not to disturb her sleeping Angel. Placing her laptop and wine on the wicker table in front of her, she opened the screen, a band-aid staring at her where the camera once did. She turned on the airport and went straight to Google, typing in ‘Brandon DeFranco, Silverton Tribune’.

The results popped up on the screen. “Damn,” she quietly said to herself. “Busy guy.” The headlines all appeared political to some extent.

“Silverton Police Following a Trend of Militarization?”

“SPD Officer in Hot Water Again”

“New Victim Assistance Program, Too Much?”

What the hell? Upon reading the title, she immediately clicked on the article.

“Annapolis County’s Victim Assistance Program recently introduced a new service to victims of crime: Specifically for victims of domestic violence and rape. In previous years, a victim advocate would meet the alleged victim in court on the day of the defendant’s arraignment. The victim would then be entitled to a temporary protection order as well as being informed of the general court process.

With the help of government funds, aka Annapolis County’s taxpayer dollars, victims of crime can now summon an advocate once the police are dispatched to and reach the scene of a crime. While many argue these services are necessary, some say it is open for debate.

Statistically, the number of protection orders granted at arraignments is quite low compared to the number of crimes committed, which would be eligible for such government assistance. Alternatively, the number of protection orders that are actually granted at the time of arraignment and subsequently dropped one week later, are outrageous. (Source)

Although these services are offered to all victims of crime, the Prosecutor’s Office claims that the majority of its use will likely come from victims of domestic violence. Ironically enough, this is the one crime in which victims typically request the order, then subsequently drop it within days of charges being filed.”

Well, no shit, Sherlock! Elizabeth was so frustrated she slammed the computer screen shut, grabbing her wine glass for a sip of calm. It was mind boggling to her that so many people in the 21st century still were not educated on the facets of domestic violence. When women and men alike were assailed by a loved one, at the time of the attack they’re frightened enough to call the police and request a protection order. Once the reality set in, they were even more terrified the abuse would worsen at the mere fact of the protection order. And it sometimes did.

Elizabeth knew all too well that a piece of paper wouldn’t keep someone at bay. Not someone who was bound and determined to unleash his or her power over the other individual in every way possible. These people were already rule breakers. They didn’t give a rat’s ass about a 500-foot invisible line. But, if it gave a battered woman one good nights rest, she was ready to be there to help make sure it was enforced.

Frustrated, she finished her wine as she walked into the kitchen. She turned on the faucet and rinsed out her glass, setting it on the counter. Staring out of the window above the sink she thought, Nice job, Brandon DeFranco. Nothing like an article from a ‘reputable’ source to force people to focus on something other than the real problem.

She walked back through the dining area and stopped at the doorway to her bedroom. All the negative thoughts dissipated as she watched Martinez sleeping in her bed. The cool lake breeze gently swung the sheer curtains from side to side. Turning out the light on the nightstand, she crept into the bed, trying not to disturb him. As soon as she was comfortable, he rolled over, spooning her from behind and cradling her breasts with his arm. Safety: A luxury unknown to her for some time.

“I’ll go to the hearing,” she whispered.

He pulled her closer to him and rested his cheek at the nape of her neck. “And I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

Chapter 4

Elizabeth had never felt so good pulling into the parking garage before work on a Monday morning. Reaching her spot and putting her Beamer in park, China was sitting in the driver’s seat of her car in the adjoining space, finishing her cigarette. Looking at each other, Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she smiled, mouth open, as she waved excitedly. She pulled the keys out of the ignition, barely making it out of the door fast enough to jump in the passenger side of China’s Buick.

In unison, they cheered, “Good morning!”

Becoming skeptical, she lifted her chin, squinted her eyes sideways, and deviously grinned, “You had bacon and eggs yesterday morning didn’t you?”

Elizabeth pulled her shoulder bag into her stomach and tilted her head back as she drew in a deep breath and released it as if savoring the smell of a freshly mowed lawn.

“Oh my God. Oh-my-God! - Hot damn! It’s about time. So…” egging her on for all the dirty details.

Taking another deep breath, she explained, “I have never felt anything like it in my entire life. And that’s the God’s honest truth.”

“Day-um… Oh, Liz. Oh, honey,” China said. The look on her face became worrisome. “Maybe you should’ve stayed a vegetarian.”

Elizabeth slapped her forearm, “Really, China? You’ve been pushing this for

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