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The bank balance wasn’t high, the insurance involved barely paid for the funeral and the house had a major mortgage and needed to be sold. I likely was going to need to get a job and get on with my life on my own I’m a twenty year old girl. At the funeral, the last person in line to give their condolences as everyone left the church was a handsome man, perhaps thirty five, perhaps a little older. He gave me his business card and told me that my Dad was his lawyer and in a few days, when things settled down a little, he wanted to meet with me and make me an offer. The next day, I asked at my Dad’s old law firm (which had insurance on my Dad but payable to the law firm, not me) about the man that gave me his card. He’s in business, apparently extremely successful, with a net worth well up in multiple millions. He calls me and I agree to meet with him. His coming to my home, or my home until it’s sold, seemed the most convenient for both of us. My name is Madelyn Wright, his name is. . . Was somehow too strange. So, naturally, when I was thrown in my prison cell, that wasn't what I was thinking about. I was more planning a way out, hardly noticing the big, husky male sitting on the bed, looking at me. After about an hour, I sat down on the cot, and turned to see him. I was a bit startled, but I really didn't care that he was there. Not yet, at least. The guy was big. Really big. His arms must've been twice the size of mine, and he had half a foot on me. I was strong, but no where near that strong. He looked at me for a while.Finally, the guards yelled lights out, and suddenly, all the lights went out except for a few dim lights in each cell, barely illuminating it. Suddenly, the cot creaked, and in the dim light I saw the man stand up and stretch. Good, I thought, I can lie down now. I was just leaning over when he grasped my shoulder and pulled me to my feet, hard. He pulled me in tight, and looked at me, and once again did a grin. It was a wide, meaningful.
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