The bulb in the small lamp she was allowed flickered. It seemed to her like a bad omen, like it was her life that was flickering. The only thing that kept her holding on was the baby. She knew she needed to stay alive for him. She didn't know if it was a boy or girl but had started calling it J.J.

When she had found out she was pregnant, she hoped it wasn't Justin's. Even after finding out the truth about Brad or whatever his name was. It had hurt but it was only a spring break fling. She did feel bad for the slimeball's wife. But now, she wished with everything in her that the baby was Justin's. If they ever got out he needed a father with a gentle soul, there was not a gentler soul than her best friend.

There was a lot of time to just think. After the first month she had given up on anyone finding her. She had been too good at covering her tracks. She even had a friend from school covering for her any time her parents called. Justin would never believe it but she had made sure he wouldn't come looking for her.

It was all for naught, there would be no justice for Justin. There would be none for her or the baby either. They were all doomed and it was all her fault. She had walked right into the man's hands. Truman had always known who she was, the game was already won before she even picked up the dice.

The light continued to flicker, then just like that. It went out. The baby must have felt her giving up.

Rubbing her swollen stomach. "I'm sorry I did this to you," she said quietly into the dark room.

The first look C.J. had of the house fit how he thought it would look. It was in a secluded area south of Denver. The house wasn't only secluded from other houses but from traffic. He had to drive up road that turned into a gravel road half a mile before he reached the house.

It wasn't fancy, it was small and quite shabby looking. Laughing bitterly, he thought it was still too good for the man. This was the man who had abused his baby brother. The guilt had eaten away at him for seven years. He had known his own part in what happened to Justin. If he could go back in time he would. He would have gotten rid of Truman, and he would have done all he promised with Justin. Surfing, scuba diving, real luau experience, he would have done it all. But most of all he would have just been kind and loving to the kid.

There was no excuse for the way he acted. He was surprised his father was giving him a second chance. If someone had done what he had to his children, he would have ripped their throats out. Justin was only a few years older than Tabby was now. Bile rose in his throat when he remembered what Justin had told him. His baby brother took the abuse because he was scared of what the man would do to Tabby. Justin had protected her, while C.J. had given him to a monster.

Now his brother was in a coma. Like the kid hadn't been through enough in his life already. His mother died before he even really knew her. Then he was left in the care of a man that just wanted money. They had found out later that Craig had hit Justin quite a few times. After that he was abandoned by the fucker. It was then his life was supposed to get better. A family that loved him and would be there for him. Well, that was mostly what had happened. His dad, Molly and Vicky had been there for him - through it all. They just didn't know all the demons the kid was fighting. He just hoped Justin would one day feel like he was a brother again, that he would have the chance.

He had called Cathy as soon as he got off the plane. She had been worried he would do something drastic. He had told her a partial truth. Telling her that he was going to see if Truman had anything to do with the attack. Before coming back to the states he had confessed it all to her. He thought she was going to leave him for a while. There was screaming, tears and deep sadness. She ranted and railed at him for turning his back on his biggest fan. That Justin had worshipped the ground he had walked on. There was no need for her to tell him, he already knew what kind of person he was, no person that anyone should look up to, he was no one's hero.

No way was he ever going to be able to make it up to him. He didn't even know if Justin would ever wake up from the coma. If he did the rest of his life would be better, C.J. promised himself that. It would start by making sure Truman wouldn't ever hurt anyone again. It was going to be a task, and he wasn't sure what exactly he was going to do. But he knew the man had to be breaking the law somehow and he was going to prove it.

The dilapidated steps creaked as he walked up them. The windows were darkened by some kind of spray.

Wasn't he supposed to be checked on? This whole place screams of creepy pedophile.

He shook his head, he used to think of this man like he was a brother. God, he had been so stupid.

The door shook when he knocked on it. After knocking for five minutes and no answer he had to make a choice. He could go back to the hotel room and try later, or break into the house and see for himself what the man was hiding out here in the middle of nowhere.

Walking around the back of the house he looked for a weak spot. He found it behind a tree, a small window that was cracked open. He pushed it up to open enough for it to fit his larger than usual body through. He had to jump a little to be able to get to the window.

A piece of the windowsill stuck him, he felt it rip through his shirt as he forced his way in. The window groaned under his weight but he was able to get through. Toppling over to the floor, his head connecting with something hard.

After a few tries to stand up he was finally able to. His head hurt and his could feel sweat or blood dripping from it. Whipping his brow he looked down at his hand. Blood. Oh well, he'd live. The pain in his side was a little worse. It had been cut by the windowsill.

Looking around the room he noticed it was a bedroom. Not much of one. There was just a bed with a cover and one pillow. In the corner was a shabby dresser with an old television on top. The smell in the room was musky and putrid. No one had cleaned the room in quite a while.

Opening the dresser drawers he looked for something that would break Truman parole. All that was in there was old clothes and a broken watch.

He looked through the rest of the house, finding nothing that screamed out at him. There was barely any food in the cabinets and refrigerator. The rest of the house was furnished very sparsely. The thing that pissed him off the most was there was no incriminating evidence. Not that he wanted Truman to hurt people but he knew the man was, there just wasn't anything to prove it.

Leaving the house was harder than he thought it would be. He decided to comeback when Truman was there so he could confront the man. He wasn't here to hide from Truman, he wanted the man to be worried. Because of that he left through the front door. As he was walking back to his rental car something caught his attention. It was an abandoned looking garage. It wasn't very close to the house.

Curiosity won out and he made his way for the garage. The door to the garage was actually unlocked. He slowly opened it, expecting something to jump out at him. Nothing did. Just inside the door was a solid looking wall with a door. It was strange to say the least. The door had a huge padlock on it, he looked around for the key. No key was found.

He really wanted to see what was in the room. He started to look around for something to get the lock off with.

Daphne had given up, it had been days since Truman had brought her anything to eat. She drank very little water because it hurt her stomach every time she did.

When the doorknob shook she sat up. She rushed to the bathroom and turned on that light so the rest of the room had a little light. She didn't like the idea of not being able to see Truman. She wanted to see whatever he tried to do.

The doorknob stopped shaking, she looked at it oddly. Truman always just came right in. Maybe he was messing with her. What new kind of game was he playing with her?

There was a scraping sound coming from the other side of the door. It was starting to get very peculiar now. Then a thought hit her, what if… No. But – what if it was someone that wasn't Truman? She tried to stop the hope that grew in her chest, the baby kicking wildly too. Nothing was like it usually was when Truman came in.

Slowly she made her way to the door. The scraping was getting louder. She heard something drop and a curse. The voice didn't sound like Truman but she couldn't be sure. Getting up her courage she decided to take a chance.

"IS ANYONE OUT THERE?" she yelled.

"HELLO?" a muffled voice answered. "SOMEONE IN THERE?"

"YES!" she screamed. She knew the voice now wasn't Truman. "PLEASE, GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

The man didn't answer her, as she started to think he had left he yelled again. "GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!"

She back away, the back of her knees hitting the bed. She sat down when the feeling of relief hit her. Someone was going to save her. The baby was going to be okay. She was going to be okay, she could go home. See her family and Justin, apologize to Justin for all she had done.

Something hit the door, and again, and again. Finally something broke through, she squinted to see it was the tip of an ax. Her savior was tearing down the door. The baby must be feeling her excitement because he was doing cartwheels.

Finally, after what felt like eternity the door gave way. The silhouette of a man was in the doorway. He was shorter than Truman and less bulky. Her eyes stayed on him and he came into the dimly lit room.

"Are you okay?" her savior asked. There was something familiar about his voice.

"Yes," she rasped, it had been too long since she really talked.

"My name is Carl Horvath, I'm here to help you."

Daphne gasped. She knew now where she knew the voice. It didn't matter that she hadn't seen him since she was ten. It didn't matter that she hated him for what he done to Justin. It didn't matter if he had no idea who she was. She jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around him.

"C.J.," she sobbed.

The man stiffened when she grabbed him but loosened up. He tensed again when she called him by his nickname.

After a while her sobs died down. She collected herself and stepped away from him. It was then she saw him looking at her. He was trying to figure out why she was familiar she was sure. His eyes widened when he saw her stomach.

"Can we get out of here?" she asked.

"We have to call the police and you have to see a doctor." C.J. pulled out his cell phone. "How long have you been here?"

She decided not to argue because she did need to see a doctor. The baby hadn't had proper care or nutrition. In fact she wouldn't mind to be seen by the doctor either, she wasn't feeling too well.

"What day is it?"

"September, 28th."

"I've been here since June, 7th."

Daphne watched as he called the police and gave them the address. He also asked for an ambulance.

He put the phone back in his pocket. "Why do you look familiar?" he asked.

"I spilled grape juice all over your tuxedo at your wedding reception," she said, remembering him telling her it was okay when she broke into tears.

"Daphne?" he asked.

She nodded her head, a pain shot through her temple. She started to feel shaky, she started to fall but strong arms grabbed her.

"Daphne, stay with me," C.J. said, he sounded like he was panicking.

Her body started to feel too heavy to move. She could hear him yelling to stay with him while she was taken into darkness.

C.J. followed the ambulance, he couldn't believe little Daphne had been in that place. That monster had her for months, no telling what he had done to her. He thought about calling his dad but he already had too much to worry about. He just hoped that she would be okay, and the baby. His stomach turned at the thought that the baby could be Truman's.

When he got to the hospital the police were already there. He gave them his statement. Telling them the complete truth that he broke in to the man's house. He didn't care if he was in trouble. He would take it, Truman was the criminal here. It was time for the world to know. They didn't seem to want to arrest him but who knew. It turned out Truman was already in their custody. He had attacked a co-worker who called him a child molester.

"Mr. Horvath?" a petite raven-haired nurse asked him.

"Yes." He stood up quickly.

"Ms. Chanders would like to see you now."

He followed the woman to a private room in the ER. Daphne was sitting up eating something that looked like a science experiment.

"Hey," he said, knocking gently on the door.

"Hey, C.J., come sit down." She pointed at an uncomfortable looking chair beside the bed.

She looked incredibly pale, but happier than he expected. He thought she would have a broken look to her, like Justin did after his attack.

As if answering his silent question she said, "He didn't hurt me like that. He starved me and messed with my head. Keeping me locked up in that place saying he was going to kill me and take my baby. But he didn't hurt me like he did Justin. First, I think I'm too old and the wrong gender. He might have done it to prove dominance over me but I hadn't caused him any problems yet. But if he tried to take the baby I would have." A small smile graced her lips.

"Do you want me to call your parents?"

"No, I don't want them to know what happened. They're already going to freak out when I show up pregnant. I might tell them after the baby's born. I don't expect the trial to be for a while, right?"

"It'll probably be early next year. It depends on how much his lawyer delays it."

She sighed. "Can I use your phone? I want to call Justin. He probably thinks I hate him."

She must have notice him flinch.

"Daphne, we can talk about that later."

"What's wrong with Justin?" she demanded, she was pulling on her IV.

"Calm down, it isn't good for the baby."

"You don't get to tell me what to do. Don't you think for a second I forgot what you did to Justin. Now tell me what's going on."

"Justin was hit in the head with a baseball bat. They don't know who did it. It was either some guy that was stalking him or his boyfriend."

"Justin has a boyfriend? Is it Brian?"

"No, the guy's name is Vas, he's a cop. I don't know him, I just met both of them. I can't say I like either of them. Vas seems a little too controlling and Brian seems like an asshole."

She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "You would know."

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"I don't know. When I talked to Cathy earlier he was still in a coma."

Daphne started pressing on the call button over and over. A frantic looking nurse came in then. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

"No, I need to be released. I need to get back to Pittsburgh. I promise to get medical attention there."

"I'm sorry, you have to stay overnight. Didn't the doctor talk to you about this? You are extremely dehydrated, anemic and you need food. The doctor would feel better if you were observed for the next couple of days but tonight is required."

Daphne looked like she was about to argue but that was the moment the police came to get her statement. He had a feeling they both would be on a plane tomorrow, no matter what the doctor said.