The people below me started to freak out, and the ride stopped entirely.

“This is what falling feels like!” Mom cried. “Remember what this feels like, baby, so you’ll never do anything so stupid.”

“Pull me up,” I pleaded. Her hands faltered, slippery with sweat, and I slid down a little. The ride had stopped and the man in the bucket below us held out his arms like he might be able to catch me if she did drop me. “Please! Mommy! Pull me up!”

She laughed. “Falling, baby. Make sure you never do it.”

“I won’t!” I shouted tearfully. I watched as my pretty pink hair bows fell from my hair and landed in the grass far below us. “I promise I’ll never ever fall.”

Finally, she pulled me up and I scurried to the edge of the bench, trying to stay as far from her as I could. She tossed her head back and laughed.

The ride started back up, and we finally got to the bottom. There were two police officers waiting when we got off, and one of them took my hand while the other put handcuffs on my mom.

The next three months I got to stay with my grandmother. I was safe with my grandmother. I was happy with my grandmother. No one tried to kill me when I was with my grandmother.

But when they got my mom’s meds regulated, they sent me back to her. This happened over and over until I was ten, and my grandmother died. Then I had no one to take me, and I was officially in the system.

That was the best day of my life. The day I went to a group home because there was nowhere else for me to go. That was the day my life started.

But there is one thing I know for sure. My mom taught me a lesson that day. “Don’t ever fall, baby. Never, ever fall.” So I don’t. And I won’t. I can’t.

I will never step close to the edge. I’ll never get myself into that kind of situation.

I jerk myself out of my trance when Tag puts his arm around me and pulls me into an alley. “Sixty seconds,” he says.

He pulls me against him and I go willingly. He holds me tightly, and I relish every second. I don’t know when I started to need this man, but I’m there.

He gets to sixty and sets me back, but this time he does it slowly, almost like he doesn’t want to let me go.

“My mom is batshit crazy,” I tell him as I step back into the street and we walk toward the assisted living facility. He left Benji with Wren, and I’m kind of glad. I’d be afraid my mother would hurt him.

He nods. “Sounds like it.”

We go in, and I sign the paperwork so the administrators can move her to a section of the facility that has more security. “Is that all you need from me?” I ask as I push the clipboard back toward the doctor in charge.

“We’d like to offer some counseling for you and your mom. I know it wasn’t always easy for you.” He’s the psychiatrist who is responsible for my mom’s treatment.

I shake my head. “What good would that do?”

“Honestly? For her, probably nothing. For you, maybe it would help.”

“I’m fine,” I say.

He nods. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Tag and I step back onto the sidewalk outside and he says, “You didn’t want to see her?”

I shake my head. “No.” I heave a sigh.

He looks straight at me and stares into my eyes. “You still have hope that she’ll love you the way you need to be loved?”

“No. I stopped hoping for that a long time ago.”

“I don’t believe you,” he says. His hand slips into mine, and he tangles our fingers together. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, but I don’t pull my hand away. “Do you feel like having breakfast?”

I nod, and we go into a small place that specializes in waffles.

He opens a menu. “What’s good here?” he asks. He grins at me.

“Duh,” I say. “Waffles.”

He lays the menu to the side. “Then I guess I’ll have waffles.” He looks up at the waitress. “And coffee.”

“Same,” I say.

“So, you’re afraid of heights now?” he asks as he stirs cream into his coffee.

“No, I’m just afraid of falling.”

He stares hard at me over the rim of his mug. “Explain.”

“I have to have my feet solidly planted, that’s all.”

His eyes narrow. “You like control.”

I nod and give a little shrug. “Yes.”

“So when you and I were together…” He stops and shakes his head. “Never mind.” His cheeks turn red.

“Say it,” I prompt. My heart is tripping like mad.

“When we were together and I slapped your ass, did it turn you on or did it turn you off?”

My palms start to sweat, so I wipe them on my jeans. “I’ve had men slap my ass before.”

His jaw muscle jerks. “We’re not talking about them. We’re talking about you and me.”

I sit back and try to breathe. “So, you want to know if you turned me on?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you care?” I watch his face closely.

“Because I fully intend to do it again one day, when you’re ready for what I want.”

My belly betrays me with a little flip. “And what do you want?”

“I want to wait while I get to know you. And I want to take you on a few dates. And I want for you to fall in love with me and with my son. And then, when we’re both sure we want it, I want to fuck you again, but this time it’ll be more. So much more.”