Four Days….

It was four days after…..But after what?

Four days after she'd been freed from the clutches of Roman Nevikov…..yes.

Four days after Charlie Crews trade his life for hers with no plan beyond that…. yep.

Four days after the cloud of dust and the heat of the California sun bathed her in a truth she couldn't wash off…..uh-huh.

Four days after the deep sleep she'd been living in ended and she woke up from both a nightmare and a deep sleep….um, okay.

The nightmare was Roman, the deep sleep part was far more complex.

What followed was a blur. The wail of a siren, the starched sheets of a hospital bed, the cold hands of doctors and nurses, the warmth of her mother's arms, the stiff brush of Tidwell's stubble across her cheek, the squealing brake on the wheel of the chair she left the hospital in, the hot car, the ride home (to his home, not hers), the space between them in his bed – not touching.

Avoidance and deliberate ignorance coupled with an obstinate refusal to care were a way of life for Dani Reese; her Path to Not Zen. These were talents she cultivated and encouraged. Deliberate ignorance about the dark deeds of her father. Meaningless, drunk sex with strangers. No names, no numbers, sometimes even the face didn't register. It was easier. Her decent into drugs was just a logical extension of her way of life.

When then why was she sitting on the couch in Kevin Tidwell's apartment, alone, listening to (of all things) a Zen tape not unlike the one she stubbornly refused to let Crews play in the car?

Why was Crews the only one she could think about? The man she wanted to talk to? Kevin had done nothing more offensive than love her, but the truth was he wasn't that for her. She liked him; they had fun together. The sex was okay, well…better than okay, but love? No, not even close.

She pressed play and listened to the words that had awakened her one last time.

"Your soul mate is not someone that comes into your life peacefully. It is who comes to make you question things, who changes your reality, somebody that marks a before and after in your life. It is not the human beings everyone has idealized, but an ordinary person who manages to revolutionize your world – and they do it in an instant."

It was him. Crews.

Not peaceful, not Zen – not really. That was pretend; that was for the rest of the world. This was the man who crushed Roman's windpipe and escaped Russian mobsters to make it back. This was the man who endured twelve years of prison for murders he didn't commit, but he had killed people and he'd do it again.

And he made her question things, every – single – thing.

He marked her life…. with his fruit, his Zen anecdotes, his faith in her, his loyalty, and his hand as it traced her cheek and brushed back her hair in that orange grove.

He wasn't perfect, far from it, but he'd changed the way she looked at life, at police work, who the good guys were and who they weren't, who she was and why she did what they did.

And he did it all in that instant - when she reached for him during that exchange.

Four days ago….