Angela woke up in her bed with a start. She sat up, raking her hand through her hair as she tried to recall when she had moved from the couch, where she'd been waiting for the phone to ring, to the bed. A loud crash and some swearing in the kitchen had her up and out of her bed in seconds, Glock in hand. She held it straight out in front of her as she walked towards the noise. "Hello?" she called out.

"Hey, hey, easy, kid," Kozik said, arms in the air as he stood up from the floor. "It's just me."

"Jesus, Koz. What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, setting the gun down on the coffee table.

He looked at her like it should've been obvious. "You think I'm gonna leave ya unprotected after some guy tried to choke ya? Fat chance."

She rolled her eyes at him, though she couldn't say she was surprised; Happy and Kozik had a way of showing up to conveniently "spend the night" whenever she'd gotten in trouble in the past. Sometimes it was for her protection, other times it was to make sure she didn't get into any more trouble. "How'd you get in?"

"Your hide-a-key is fuckin' obvious. Who puts a computer mouse in a planter?"

Angela laughed, that was all Juice. He'd had an extra mouse he wasn't using, so he'd emptied it out, painted it dirt brown, and hid an extra key in it. "He painted it brown," she justified with a small smile.

"Idiot," Kozik said with a shake of his head.

"What are you doing in my pots and pans, Koz?"

"Nothin' productive, obviously," he muttered as he started to pick them up.

She laughed, leaning against the counter to watch him clean up. She didn't move to help him, knowing if she started to, he'd stop and she'd have to finish the job by herself. "Did you carry me to my room last night?"

He nodded. "Wasn't about to sleep in the same bed you and that idiot do your stuff in," he replied on a shrug. "Gettin' kind of heavy for that, though. You're not seventeen any more."

"Please, Koz. You're just an out of shape old fart," she teased. She thought about telling him that she and Juice had done the same kind of "stuff" on the couch he'd slept on...many, many times, but decided against it. What Kozik didn't know didn't hurt him.

"There you go with the Old Man jokes," he commented on a scowl. "I ain't that old, kid."

"Keep tellin' yourself that," she joked with a mischievous grin. "Hey, what was it like to live among the dinosaurs?"

Kozik flipped her the bird just as his phone went off, making her heart lurch in her chest. Could it be the boys calling from Ireland? He gave her a knowing grin as he put the little black phone to his ear. "Yo?...'Ey Hap, what's up, man?"

Angela pushed herself up onto the counter, heel kicking against the cabinet as she listened in on their conversation. She didn't get much from it, apparently Happy was just checking in. She knew her cousin wouldn't ask to talk to her; every second spent on the phone made it easier to trace the call which put them in more danger. A part of her hoped Juice might tell Happy to say something to her, apologize for not calling. Something to make her feel better.

Kozik hung up the phone with a snap. "The boys are all good in Belfast. Hap says hi."

"Oh. Good," she said trying to keep from looking disappointed.

She must've been doing a miserable job at hiding it because he frowned, shaking his head at her. "Hap didn't say anythin' about you. I'm guessin' it was on purpose 'cause he didn't want Juice takin' the phone."

Angela could see the hole in his story, and though she appreciated him trying to make her feel better; it didn't help. "Then how did he say 'hi'? You're lyin' about one or the other, Koz."

Kozik sighed. He'd been hoping she wouldn't catch that; the girl was much too smart for her own good. "Maybe Juice wasn't around."

"Maybe," she repeated softly, though she highly doubted it. She jumped off the counter and went to the fridge, getting out an icepack and handing it to him. "For your face. Who smacked ya?"

He nodded appreciatively, putting the cold pack to his eye. "Tig."

"Again? Really Koz? Maybe you should learn to duck."

In seconds, Kozik had her locked in a headlock and was rubbing his knuckles into her head. "Gonna teach me some fighting skills? Huh, kid?"

Angela laughed as she struggled against his hold. "Get off! Get off!"

He chuckled and let her go, ruffling her hair. "I gotta go, dude. See ya."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You gonna sleep over again?" she asked, flicking on her coffee maker.

Kozik shrugged. "We'll see how the night pans out," he said on an indifferent shrug. He kissed her temple as she slid an arm around his waist in a quick side hug. "Try and stay outta trouble, all right? Anythin' happens to you, and Hap'll kill me."

"That seems fair," she said, laughing at the scowl on his face. "I'll do my best, Kozi. Just for you."

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Appreciate that."

-----------

After a slow day at the funeral home, Angela went home and took a quick shower before heading over to Tara's. The doctor had called to tell her she didn't need to come to the appointment because one of the hospital administrators offered to accompany her, but Angela wasn't about to let that happen. She seriously doubted one of Tara's superiors could provide the same comfort as a friend, so she decided to tag along anyway.

Tara smiled when she opened the door. To be honest, she'd been thankful Angela had insisted on going. She was starting to get nervous about saying the wrong thing around Margaret and knew Angela could provide a good buffer between them. "Hey Ang," she greeted, stepping back to let her in. "Margaret should be here in a minute. You want something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks," Angela said on a shrug as she stepped into the house. "How you feeling, T?"

"All right, I guess. Nervous."

She nodded. "Sounds about right." At Tara's questioning look, she shrugged again. "I've been to a few of these; my friends were careless growin' up."

"And you?"

"I've never had to think about it," she answered honestly. While her friends were careless as teenagers, Angela had been a little obsessive compulsive about practicing safe sex, mostly because she knew Happy would kill her if she got pregnant as a teen especially if it was with Esai's kid. "I don't know what I'd do."

Tara nodded in understanding. "Yeah," she said for lack of anything better to say. "Thanks for coming though. I really appreciate it."

Angela gave her a warm smile in response. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Margaret Murphy was surprised to see the young undertaker at Tara's house when she went to pick Tara up. She was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table like she owned the place while she talked to Tara. She almost didn't recognize Angela in her regular clothes that consisted of a pair of blue jeans, a wife beater, and big clunky biker boots. "Oh, hello there, Ms. Ruiz," Margaret greeted stiffly.

"Angie's fine," Angela assured her with a friendly smile. "Good to see you, Margaret."

Margaret gave her a small smile in return. The undertaker always had a serious look to her face when she was at the hospital, one that warded off most people, but now, in a normal setting, she had a friendly smile on her face. One that put Margaret a little more at ease."You too, Angie."

The car ride was awkwardly silent on the way there until Margaret struck up a conversation with Tara about some hospital thing. Angela sat in the back, staring out the window at the passing scenery, not paying much attention to the conversation; it didn't involve her. It wasn't until Tara had turned around to look at her expectantly that she realized they'd asked her something. "I'm sorry. What?" she asked politely.

"How did you and Tara become friends?" Margaret asked, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, you know. Hung out over coffee breaks and stuff. Your hospital has excellent coffee," Angela replied vaguely.

Margaret nodded. "So you're not involved with the motorcycle club?"

"Not really," she replied on a shrug. She knew that was a lie, but she honestly didn't think it was any of the administrator's business whether she was involved with the club or not.

Margaret's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as she pulled up to the stop light. How could someone "not really" be involved with the club? It didn't seem to be a half-in, half-out thing. "Okay."

Out of nowhere, a car slammed into their bumper. Angela raised an eyebrow as she slid over to the door, following Margaret and Tara out to assess the damage. A young Latina woman stepped out of the other car, apologizing profusely. The girl looked familiar though Angela couldn't quite place where she'd seen her before.

Then she asked if Tara was Jax Teller's girl. Angela's eyes widened as she saw the man step out of the car. "Oh shit," she muttered under her breath. It was Salazar, the same man who'd tried to choke her in the morgue; only now both he and the girl had guns pointed directly at them. They were screwed.

As the woman checked Margaret's ink, Salazar rounded on her. "Look who it is. The little Mayan puta from the morgue. Funny seein' you here with Jax Teller's Old Lady. Guess the Mayans and the Sons really did patch things over," he said taking a few steps closer to her.

"Look. I'm just an undertaker. That's it. Check my ink if you want," Angela stated calmly, holding up her hands. She silently thanked God that Happy would never let her tattoo the different MC-related symbols she'd wanted in her youth. They would've gotten her in a hell of a lot more trouble. Luisa lifted up Angela's shirt, checking for ink. She found the koi fish tattoo and gave the undertaker a strange look. "I like fish," Angela explained on a shrug.

Salazar pointed the gun in her face. "Don't matter what ink you got. I saw you at the rally, puta. I know who you run with. Get in the fuckin' car."

Angela sighed, her hands still held up in the air in defeat. She could get out of this and save herself, but she wasn't about to leave her pregnant friend and the innocent supervisor behind. Salazar pushed her towards the car, his gun held up to her back. "Not so tough now, are ya?" he gloated, poking her back with the gun before he slammed the door behind her, locking them in his car.

------------------

Angela leaned back against the roof support she, Tara, and Margaret were tied to doing her best to remain calm. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back trying to think about anything other than the fact they were captured in some random attic that was hotter then hell, their fate in the hands of some psycho ex-motorcycle club president.

"I guess you weren't lyin'. Got ourselves a doctor, an undertaker, and a hospital boss," Salazar stated as he entered the attic.

Angela rolled her eyes, waiting patiently for Luisa to peel the tape off her face. She did so, none too carefully, and splashed some water into her mouth. "Give us the best number for the Sons. Gotta make our demands, she ordered as she gave Tara some water.

They wanted a number for the Sons, one that Angela didn't know. "T, give 'em the garage number," she said glancing at the doctor who'd just been smacked across the face for asking too many questions.

Tara rattled off the phone number a little breathlessly. Salazar pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. While he talked to whoever was on the other line, Angela worked on twisting her wrists this way and that, feeling the knot. She smirked; it was a wimpy knot, one done a little too carelessly. Pulling on one end, she felt it unravel and fought the urge to smile. There was hope yet. She just had to bide her time and wait for the right moment.

-----------

Kozik stood in front of Marcus Alvarez's house, hoping like hell his plan was going to work. He knew Tig and Piney thought he was crazy, but he knew something they didn't. He knew about Angela's past with the Mayans and just how much Alvarez cared about her. Luckily, as soon as they stepped into the front yard, Alvarez was already there, gun in hand.

He listened while Tig explained the situation, though the SAMCRO Sergeant left out Angela's name. That was a mistake. But Tig didn't know about Angela's Mayan connections, and Kozik was sure there was a reason for that. Maybe it was best not to mention Happy's little cousin.

As Alvarez rounded on Piney, gun pointed straight at the old man's head, Kozik decided he didn't give a shit about keeping Angela's secrets; it wasn't going to mean much if she was dead anyway. If Alvarez needed some motivation to help them, she was their best bet. "Look I'm really sorry that we upset your family, but we're desperate," he said, looking at Alvarez's Old Lady who was holding a baby. "You know little Angie Ruiz? They got her too, man."

"Angelita," Alvarez repeated under his breath.

Kozik nodded in confirmation. "You're the only chance we got at saving those women," he stated, seeing the Mayan president's demeanor change. Now, they were getting somewhere. "We'll make it up to you, somehow. Please."

Alvarez looked back at his Old Lady who gave him a small nod. He'd play dead if it meant saving Angela, hell he'd send crews of his own men out to look for her if that's what they needed. "All right. I play dead 24 hours, and that's it."

"Thank you," Kozik said, nodding to him.

After one last threat from Alvarez, the three Sons headed back to the van. "What the hell was that?" Tig asked once they were inside. "What's Angie got to do with the Mayans?"

"The kid grew up in Oakland. Went to school with all those punks. When Hap went inside for a stretch, she fell in a little too close," Kozik explained trying to keep out most of the details. They didn't need to know specifics about her relationship with Esai. "Hap got out and got her the fuck out of there."

"Ah shit," Tig cursed, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Does Juice know?"

Piney chuckled. "That idiot goes through all sorts of background checks. You don't think he looked her up? 'Course he knows. She's not a threat, is she?"

Kozik shook his head quickly. "No, no. She wasn't into the Mayan shit, just like she ain't into our shit. Angie keeps her nose clean 'cause that's what Hap taught her."

"And Hap wouldn't let her around the club if he thought differently," Piney said more to himself than to the other two men in the car.

Tig nodded in agreement. "That why you knew Alvarez would play along?"

"Guy's got a soft spot for Ang," Kozik answered on a nod. "Figured we could use that to our advantage."

Piney smirked. "Good thinking, blondie."

-----------

Angela had just managed to untie the knot when Louisa came in and started to untie Margaret, muttering to herself in Spanish about the Sons not following Salazar's request and wondering to herself what they were going to do about it. Salazar came in a few seconds later. "Time's up," he stated, a menacing look on his face as he turned to them.

"For what? What are you going to do?" Tara asked, her eyes wild as she looked up at Salazar.

"Your crew ain't takin' me serious. I'm gonna kill the red bitch."

Angela remained calm while Tara and Margaret freaked out, starting to beg and make all sorts of deals. She knew better. Nothing they said could help them now. They just had to play it smart. But Tara and Margaret hadn't been trained by the Tacoma killer. They'd never been taught to stay calm in the face of their own death. Scared people made stupid mistakes, calm people didn't.

When Tara made the mistake of pulling Luisa's hair back in an attempt to grab her gun, Angela gave away the only edge they had and dove in front of her just as Salazar's booted foot came down. She winced as his foot caught her right in the ribs. "Don't! She's fucking pregnant!" Angela groaned, holding onto her side.

"It's true!" exclaimed Tara, one hand protectively covering her stomach.

Salazar stared at both of them, dumbfounded as his phone rang. Angela crawling back towards the support, Luisa's gun in her face. She rubbed at her throbbing side, hoping like hell he didn't break a rib. There'd been some power behind that kick that could've done some serious damage to Tara and the baby had Angela not blocked it. Luisa tied her back onto the support while Tara spoke to whichever Son had called Salazar. Once she was done, Salazar tied Tara back up before he and Luisa went back down stairs.

"Are you all right?" Tara breathed, glancing at Angela.

Angela nodded slowly, moving her wrists from side to side as she tried to figure out the freshly tied knots. They were relatively loose, though not as loose as they had been before. These knots would take a little more skill and a lot more time. "I'll live," she replied, ignoring the dull throbbing in her wrist. She'd just barely recovered from the wrist sprain she'd had before and moving it so much was definitely not good for it.

"Thanks for that, Ang."

"Yeah, 'course," she muttered in reply. "We just got to keep it together a little longer."

Tara nodded in agreement just as Margaret broke down into sobs. Angela clenched her jaw, trying her best to tune them out. Crying would get them no where, Happy had instilled that in her since she was a young girl. If he could see her now, he'd be pissed. Not only did she allow herself to be taken hostage, she didn't even have a weapon on her.

Except that she did. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she fidgeted this way and that, trying her best to gain access to her boot. She'd taken to stowing her knife there ever since Happy had gotten on her case for not carrying it around with her. It fit so well tucked into the soft leather she'd forgotten it was there.

Tara raised her eyebrow at the undertaker who was moving around like she had ants in her pants. Between her fidgeting and Margaret's sobbing, the doctor felt like she was about to go crazy. "What the hell are you doing, Angie?"

Angela twisted into a kneeling position with a grunt, managing to slide a finger into her boot. She smiled triumphantly as she felt the smooth wood of her folded knife. It was there all right. Now she just had to find a way to get it out. "Just trust."

After what felt like an hour, Angela finally managed to get the knife out of her boot. She smiled to herself. "Hey T," she said nudging Tara awake. She was careful not to bother Margaret, the supervisor had finally stopped crying and she wasn't about to wake her up to get her started again.

"Huh?" Tara mumbled, only half awake.

"Salazar left to make the exchange. I'm gonna give you my knife," she whispered moving so the knife slid easily into the other woman's palm. "Tell Luisa you gotta take a piss. She'll let you 'cause she knows you're pregnant and I'm willing to bet, she's got experience with that. Stick her with the knife and get the hell out of here."

Tara's eyes widened as she felt the small folding knife in her palm. "I'm not going to leave you guys behind. I got you into this mess."

"Don't worry about it. You stab her with it and run. I'll figure out the rest. You just go," Angela ordered, trying to put as much authority in her voice as she could.

"Okay," she agreed on a nod.

It wasn't long until Luisa walked back into the room. Angela pretended to be asleep while Tara asked to use the bathroom. After a minute of hesitation, Luisa agreed and carefully untied just the doctor. With Tara gone, the rope was a bit looser, allowing Angela to easily untie the knot. She rubbed at her raw wrists before getting to work on Margaret's ties. The movement woke Margaret up. "How'd you..." she began.

"Shhh! Luisa's downstairs with Tara. I'm gonna get us out," Angela whispered, pulling out the rope and tossing it aside. They both heard a loud pounding up the stairs. "Oh shit!"

"It's me!" Tara exclaimed as she made her way into the room, Luisa's gun in her hand. Blood covered her arms. "I may have just slit her throat."

Angela's eyes widened in surprise and a shocked laugh left her lips. "Jesus, Tara. I said stab her, not kill her."

"Yeah, well, I did my best," Tara said, watching as the other women got to their feet. She held the gun up in front of her and all three started making their way down the stairs.

Angela pushed her way in front, heading to the bathroom. She ignored the sounds coming from Luisa as her eyes scanned the floor for the knife. It was on the ground, covered in blood, as she expected it to be. She leaned down to pick it up just as Salazar stormed into the house. Angela froze, knife in her hand as she listened intently to the exchange between Salazar and Tara. Glancing around the room, she grabbed a rag from the ground and pressed it into the cut on Luisa's neck, trying her best to look as if she was helping the woman in the bathtub.

Salazar stepped back into the room, his eyes going from the knife in her hand to the compress in the other. Tara held the gun up straight at his head. "You need us to keep her alive," she stated, her eyes never leaving Salazar's face.

To prove Tara's point, Angela moved the compress away from the gash on Luisa's neck. Dark blood spilled over her neck the second the compress was taken away. "Let her leave and I'll save Luisa," she bargained, nodding to Margaret.

He contemplated her offer, the pain on his face evident. If he hadn't just abducted them and held them hostage for over two days, Angela would've felt bad for him. "Okay. First we get Luisa in the car. We'll get her out of here. Then she can go."

"Okay," Tara agreed before handing Margaret the gun.

"C'mon, help me!" Salazar shouted at Angela.

Angela nodded, pressing the compress back down and moving with Salazar as he lifted Luisa from the bathroom. She hoped like hell that Luisa would live. At least until the boys came for them. Before she'd had a feeling Salazar's threats were all smoke. That he wouldn't really kill a woman, especially not a pregnant woman; but losing a loved one made people do crazy things. If Luisa died, she had a feeling Salazar wouldn't spare anyone, pregnant or not.

-----------

Juice sat in the small bedroom playing poker with Kerrianne and Trinity in Trinity's room while Fiona looked on mildly amused. It was a brief respite from the bullet and bombed filled days they'd just been through.

"You got a girl back home, Juicy?" Kerrianne asked adding a roll of sweet-tarts to the betting pool.

He sighed at the question, wondering the same thing himself. It'd been almost three days, and he'd yet to talk to her. He'd tried to call her a few times, but she hadn't picked up. The phone just kept ringing until he hit the stupid automated voicemail message. Each time he convinced himself he'd counted the hours wrong, that she was working or sleeping or doing something else and not just avoiding his calls. "Yeah, I guess."

"You guess? What's tha' s'posed to mean?" Trinity asked on a scoff.

He shrugged a shoulder. "We got in a fight before I left. Left things kinda hangin'."

"She not supportive of the life?" Fiona asked from her place at the door.

Juice shook his head. "Nah, nothin' like that. Just stupid stuff."

Fiona nodded in understanding. "That'll getcha."

Kerrianne rolled her eyes at her mom. "What's her name then?"

"Angel," he said before quickly correcting himself. "Angela. Her name is Angela."

"But she's his angel," Trinity teased making Juice scowl. "Tha's sweet."

Juice rolled his eyes at her, not at all appreciative of her teasing. He'd never really thought of it like that before. In a lot of ways she was his angel, one that had been sent to take care of him and make his life better. "It's just easier to say," he lied on a shrug.

"Yeah, fine. She blonde? I can see him with a blonde," Trinity commented glancing at Kerrianne.

Kerrianne nodded in agreement. "Aye. Petite little blonde. Delicate."

"You couldn't be more wrong," he said, shaking his head at her. "She's got brown hair, actually."

"Big tits?" Trinity asked, to which Fiona scoffed.

Juice grinned and nodded. "She's certainly not lacking, and she's anything but delicate. Works in a morgue."

"She real pasty? " Kerrianne piped up, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Kerri!" Fiona admonished, shaking her head at her daughter. "Between the two of ya, I don't know who's more rude."

"Girl works in a morgue, Ma. She's gotta be pasty."

Juice chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, she's Cuban."

"Ah, got yourself an island girl, eh?" Trinity said, enjoying teasing Juice. "Let's see a picture."

He paused, stopping to think if he had a picture of her on him. They didn't really take pictures of each other. Angela wasn't the picture taking type, and neither was he. But he did have one, courtesy of Ellie Winston. The young girl had gotten a digital camera for her birthday and was constantly taking pictures. She'd given Angela a few prints from which he'd stolen one and shoved it in his wallet before their supposed trip to Vancouver.

Ellie had taken the picture when she and her brother had been at the house helping Angela wash her car. He'd walked up the drive only to find her standing there in nothing but that silver bikini and a pair of her cut off jean shorts. She'd noticed him gaping at her and sprayed him with the hose. He'd chased after her, and Ellie managed to snap a picture of him with his arms around her, reaching for the hose. Her eyes were looking up at him, a huge smile on her face that matched his smile. He could almost hear her laughter as he looked at the picture, his finger gently tracing her face before he handed it over to the girls to see. "That's her."

"Good looking girl ye got there," Trinity commented, smiling as she handed the picture over to Kerrianne. "What she think about your little trip overseas? I'm sure she's worried as hell about the Irish lasses up here."

"She was all for it. Wants Abel to come home safely," he explained, looking over his cards and adding a lollipop to the growing pool. "She gets it."

And that's when it hit him. She understood him. She understood what MC life required and was willing to bend for him because she understood how much it meant to him. The one time she'd done something for herself; he'd gotten mad at her for it. He hadn't been willing to bend for her like she consistently did for him. Yeah, she'd been wrong to go without telling him, but at the same time, he'd been wrong to ask her to give up something she cared about. And he was going to lose her because of it. Because he was an idiot who couldn't swallow his pride and just let her be happy.

-----------

Angela stood outside of the car watching as Tara tried her best to staunch the bleeding wound in Luisa's neck. Her eyes flitted from the girl who was losing too much blood to fast, to the man who was currently pacing back and forth, muttering to himself in Spanish. She glanced down at her pants with a grimace; they were covered in blood as were her hands and arms. Too much blood. There was no way Luisa was going to be okay.

Tara pulled away from Luisa, glancing up at Angela as she shook her head. "Ang..."

"Shit," Angela murmured in response, raking a bloodied hand through her hair; this was not good. "I'll tell him."

"No, Ang. This was on me," Tara whispered, knowing what was going to come next. He was going to kill her.

Angela shook her head slowly. "My knife. My responsibility," she said, taking a deep breath to strengthen herself. She took a few steps towards Salazar who stopped his pacing to look at her. "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."

Salazar paused for a second, soaking it all in. "You stupid bitch!" he shouted, rushing at her and twisting a hand into her hair. He forcefully slammed her head against the hood of his car, the force of the blow made her see stars. "You killed Pozo and now you killed my Luisa!"

Her head was pounding, but she refused to cry out. There was no way she'd give him that pleasure. Unsatisfied by her quiet response, he lifted her head back one more time and brought it down harder against the hot metal of his car.

Tara watched in horror as Angela's body went limp as he pulled her away a third time. He jerked her back, letting go so she landed flat on her back just inches away from Tara. "Stupid bitch," he swore at her, kicking her in the ribs again.

She didn't respond, just lay there lifelessly. Tara swallowed hard before looking at Salazar. "Stop!" she cried out before he could kick her again.

Salazar stopped what he was doing and looked at her, tears in his eyes. He looked back down at the woman at his feet. There was a large gash across her forehead that was bleeding like crazy. Was she dead? What had he done? He'd never meant it to get to this point. He and Luisa had just wanted to have some revenge against Alvarez and the Sons for stripping him of his patch. They'd never once thought of actually killing the women they'd abducted.

Tara took the opportunity to kneel down beside Angela, pressing her fingers into her pulse point before glancing back up at Salazar who'd begun to pace again. He stopped when he saw Tara stand up a look of panic in his eyes as he awaited the doctor's assessment. Her eyes met his and she frowned, shaking her head sadly.