Page 167 of The Secrets She Keeps

“Powell, you look green. I think you might have caught a cootie from Trey, after all,” Heather said softly. “Can you lower your head a bit? It might help with the nausea. Trey, you still a big baby when it comes to vomit and everything? You might want to step away from her. Just in case. She might exorcist vomit at any moment.”

“I’m good, Auntie Heather. I’m good.” But he took a half step away from Powell.

“I have another nickname. I got it when I was pregnant.Hurling Heather.Not my best moments, actually. I had to fight for the toilet, though. Marcia and Joy were pregnant at the same time I was. We were all battling to barf. I remember when wewere kids. Everything would set you off. Joy used to do it on purpose whenever you were being too much of an ass. That girl, not squeamish at all. So weird. Remember that time she had that raw cow’s liver she’d dyed blue on the table and told you she had let it mold and was dissecting it for her science fair project before she was going to cook it to see what happened? I thought you would be green forever.”

Heather was inching closer.

She was almost there. Two more feet and she could partially obscure Trey’s line-of-sight. He wouldn’t be able to see Miguel and what the other man was doing. This was a situation she and Miguel had played out time and time again. Years ago. When the world was different. When they actually believed they could make a difference. Stop the bad guys before the innocent got hurt. Well, she had learned differently.

Bad guys. Bad guys won more often than they lost.

She was just a pawn in the game. Like they all were.

But tonight, Gunnar and Powell were going to win. No matter what Heather had to do to make it happen.

One foot to go.

130

Trey hated that bitch.So damned much. “Steve should have killed you three years ago. When you just kept getting in the way. He and Joey drew straws—to see who got to screw with you. I wanted to so bad, but we figured you’d recognize me.”

She justsmirkedat him. The woman just smirked at him, like she had when they were kids. “So…did Steve win the draw…or lose the draw? Considering his current position? I think I came out the winner in that game, actually. I have two beautiful, precious, perfect little girls—and Stevie is nothing but a turnip right now. Everyone knows what kind of scum he was. His pal Joey too. You are next on the scum list, Timmy Three. You just are.”

The man at Trey’s feet moaned. Guess he wasn’t dead, after all.

Trey reached. For Powell.

She was his magic ticket out of there.

His dad was already inching his way to those doors to the outside. No doubt he was planning to run for it. To go back to the kid.

If he did that, Trey’s dad would probably take a bullet to the back. Heather, probably. She’d enjoy that.

Trey yanked Powell closer. He just wanted them all to look athim,not his dad.

So his dad could get away. Get the kid. Have half a damned chance at something more than this. The man on the floor moaned again. Much louder this time. Trey didn’t even hesitate—he looked. Straight down.

As that man rolled.

Right into Trey’s knees.

Reaching for his daughter.

131

Gunnar sawHeather give the signal to Miguel. And he knew—Gunnar just leaped. His arms wrapped around Powell’s waist, and he took her to the floor. They rolled.

He ignored the fire in his shoulder, his chest, ignored how weak he felt. He just knew he had to get her away. Out of the line of fire, however he possibly could.

He was dimly aware of Heather doing the same to Mason Barratt. Knocking the man to the side and out of the line of fire.

There were shots. So loud Gunnar’s ears hurt. He ignored the sounds. Just kept her covered.

As best he possibly could.

Until the fire threatened to consume him completely. But Powell was in his arms, and that was what mattered most.

“Trey is down!” Miguel yelled. “Trey is down. Weapon secured!”

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