Page 162 of The Secrets She Keeps

Well. He would follow orders. She'd almost bet that. What else could he do? He was trussed up like a turkey now. "You. Just keep yourself real still, understand? I am really enjoying seeing you like this. Couldn't have happened to a better lackey."

"Is Pete really dead?" he asked. He was watching her, like she was his hope or something. Idiot. Asshole had run his hands all over her and Powell in that warehouse. He’d enjoyed having them helpless and bound. Now he was helpless and bound. Karma could be such a bitch.

"Pete the one you called Harvard in the warehouse?"

"No. Pete's my cousin. He just…wants extra cash to pay his student loans, that’s all. He's not a bad guy at all. He isn't."

“Student loans are such killers, aren’t they?” Heather just had to say it. This guy had been all about money, after all. "And, well, crime really doesn't pay all that well, dude. It really doesn't. Probably does pay better than the TSP, though. There is that."

Miguel snorted.

"Sorry about your cousin, pal," Miguel said in a tone that was anything but. "Guy points a gun at me, and I get cranky. Best tell his mother and father they should have raised him better thanthat. Or…he should have learned how to behave in those college classes."

"Is he dead?" the guy asked. He wasn’t so tough now, was he?

"Maybe? Didn’t really pay much attention. Don’t really care. He's not going anywhere for a while."Miguel had the big, scary, and intimidating down to an art form, that man. "This is my favorite shirt, though. It was a gift for my first Father's Day. My pal Nick bought it for me and put my little boy's name on it. It is my special shirt, damn it. I'm a bit pissed right now."

World's Greatest Dadwas emblazoned across Miguel's broad chest.

"We'll get the bloodstains out, Mig. Summer has this laundry detergent recipe she uses that is phenomenal for bloodstains."

"There really isn't anything that girl can't do, is there?"

"No. There isn't. She is a Coleson, after all."

Timothy's face pinched at that.Well, well, well. Interesting.

"What, Tim, do you actually believe my girls think of themselves asGrundenmans? They definitely won't ever again now, considering."

"No. I suppose they won't. I lost them eighteen years ago."

Timothy's eyes met hers. They were lighter brown. Eden's eyes. Eden resembled himthe most. Even more than his evil Trey spawn.

"I cannot lose my children again. I just can't."

"You've already lost them, Timothy. You already have."

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Powell’s dad shifted,beneath her hand. He was waking up. Moaning. Powell leaned down. “Daddy, it’s okay.”

“Powell? Where…your mother?”

“Mom’s not here.”

His eyes flew open then. “Where is your mother? Did they hurt her too? Are you hurt, baby girl?”

He remembered, then. She was hoping he wouldn’t. Not for a little bit. Until she had him where he was safe.

“Heather already got Mom out of here. Mom's safe,” Powell whispered. “Gunnar is here. And his friends. We’ll be okay. I promise. Just stay still. They don’t know you’re awake.”

His fingers wrapped around hers. For a moment, she almost imagined it was over.

But this wasn’t over yet.

It couldn’t be.

Not as long as that man had a gun.

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