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on her bathroom ledge. A poor weapon, but better than nothing. She clasped it in her fist as she tiptoed out of the bathroom. Palpitations erupted in her chest as she peered into the lounge. No one there. Still panic-stricken, she continued softly towards the kitchen. Each footstep might as well have been a drumbeat. She arched around the kitchen door; all her senses heightened. Nothing.

Thank God, she was alone. At last, she released a sound. A strangled scream as she hurtled to the door. She checked the lock and could see no damage. She had either left it open or the burglar had used a spare key or some sort of lock-picking device. For what it was worth, she attached the chain. It seemed paltry and ineffective in keeping that monster of a man out, should he choose to return.

Quaking, she pressed her back against the door and slid to the ground. She buried her head in her arms and held herself, rocking slowly. The tears came thick and fast. Sobs wracked her body as snot and tears streamed down her face.

Gradually the tears subsided. Maya gulped occasionally as she rose on unsteady legs. Slowly, she walked toward the bedroom. She stood at the door, afraid to go in. From what she could see, nothing appeared disturbed and nothing had been stolen. Her fear was suddenly replaced with a torrent of rage. She refused to become a victim. She was a grown woman. Strong and resilient. Nobody had the right to fucking scare her like this.

She tore at the bedding, stripping it away. She couldn’t stomach the thought of some stranger… some animal lying on her bed. And to kiss her? The paralysing fear returned at the realisation of what else the man could have done to her while she was sleeping. She had to phone the police. She should have done that straight away. What had she been thinking?

But then rationale took over. Other than the kiss, he hadn’t touched her. That wasn’t his intention. He was there to deliver a message. ‘Your dad wants to know.’

She shuddered violently. The thought of Naylor made her feel sick all over again. At the best of times, the thought of him horrified her. And now what? She was receiving messages from him at 4am. Was he even still in prison or had he been released? Surely, she and Dominique would have been informed if he had? The pair had only discussed him recently and there was no way Dominique would hold something so important back from Maya. The possibility that Naylor could be walking the streets was terrifying.

Maya knew she couldn’t risk phoning the police. She couldn’t afford to expose herself to the fact she was Marcus Naylor’s daughter. After all, this was the secret she was so desperate to keep. When Maya had failed to disclose her relationship with Naylor on her application form, she had known at the time that this was contravening the conditions of her application and was effectively fraud.

Maya had willingly taken the risk. She was desperate to be a SOCO and had worked damn hard to get the job. It had never been an option to scupper her chances because of her association with such a violent, deranged man who she was blessedly estranged from. Now she was in it up to her neck. Naylor had been in touch. She knew him well enough to perceive this to be a threat. A warning. And the only people she could turn to for help, were the same people who would probably sack her for submitting a fraudulent application form.

There was nothing she could do. Nobody she could turn to. Not yet anyway. Not until she knew what Naylor was planning. She thought of Spence. The urge to text him and see him was overwhelming, but she didn’t want to get him involved in anything to do with Naylor. She cared about him too much. She was in no doubt that the early morning message was the start of some sick and twisted game of cat and mouse. Well, she wasn’t the frightened little girl he used to know. She’d got him put behind bars once before, and if he was out, she would do it again. But could she do it without jeopardising her and Dominique’s safety? And could she do it without risking the career she loved?

53

Spence was lying in bed, recalling the previous evening with Maya.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. It had been incredible and mind-blowing. They had ended up in Maya’s apartment and things had progressed to the couch until he had become concerned that he could be taking advantage of the fact she’d had quite a lot to drink.

Reluctantly, he had suggested they slow things down a bit. She had resisted at first and told him in no uncertain terms what she wanted. For his own sake, he had insisted they stop. The last thing he would ever want was to see regret in her face the following morning. He also didn’t want her to think he had taken advantage. He liked her too much for that. They had both reluctantly kissed each other goodbye after exchanging phone numbers. Maya had swayed unsteadily at the door as she waved him off.

He had already sent her a text message to say good morning and to ask her how she was, but hadn’t heard anything back yet, despite checking his phone far too many times. He berated himself for acting like a lovesick teenager. At the same time, the longer the silence continued, the more he knew he had made the right choice to slow things down last night. She had been at a loose end and had quite a lot to drink. She had clearly been letting off steam after working on Ryan Johnson’s murder. There was no guarantee that in the cold light of day she would feel the same as she had last night.

He was broken from

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