Page 8 of August 20

Nothing happened.

She pushed again, looking at the button. The light hadn't come on. She banged her fist against the box and groaned. He'd done something to stop the door from opening.

"Aunt Brooke?"

She jumped, closing the door quietly and rushing to Skye's side. "What, honey?"

"I’m thirsty. He didn't get me anything to drink with my meal."

She entered the kitchen, found a cup in the box she had yet to unpack, and filled it with water from the faucet. Frantic to figure a way out of the house, she couldn't stop her heart from racing.

Inspecting the window above the sink, her stomach rolled. He'd sabotaged every window. How had she not noticed these things before he arrived?

Skye drank, undisturbed by the man in the house. Thank God her niece was too young to understand their danger.

Brooke held on to the back of Skye's chair, determined to keep them both safe until she could find a way out of the house. She would look for a chance to get to her phone. The first thing she'd do was call 911.

She swung her gaze to the living room and gritted her teeth. Her phone was on the couch in her purse. No doubt, he'd found it.

They'd need to run. Fast and far. At least get off the ridge where there were houses. She could knock on doors until someone agreed to help her.

She swallowed her doubts. So many things could go wrong. Skye would get tired. She'd also end up scaring her niece if she panicked.

If only she'd had time to unpack. As it was, the box that held their silverware—including her sharp kitchen knives was still in the trunk of her car. That was the only item she owned that she could use as a weapon.

Never one who thought she needed to own a gun. She wished she had one because she'd shoot Maverick in his cold, evil heart.

Chapter Four

Maverick walked down the hallway. The bedroom door remained shut. He'd waited in the living room all evening for some confrontation. But all Brooke had done was come to the kitchen twice to fill a cup with water before she returned to the bedroom again.

The two failed attempts to leave the house had stopped her from trying to escape—for now.

He'd expected more tears, more fits out of her. Her strength not to fall apart in front of Skye surprised him.

For the last year, since buying the house, he'd played out every scenario of what could happen once he brought her and Skye here.

Not trusting himself to make a mistake or miss an important detail that would cause him to fail, he'd enlisted Cord and Dio to try and break out of the house while he remained inside to see how they tried to escape.

The way he'd prepared the house had kept them inside.

The only trouble he ran into was making the place safe in case a fire broke out. He needed to be able to get Skye to safety. He'd planted a key inside the wall on both sides of the doors in front and back. All he had to do was punch through the drywall if something happened and he couldn't find the key ring he carried in his pocket.

He rubbed the back of his neck. The first night under the same roof with Brooke and Skye would be hard. Brooke was nothing like he imagined.

She was much fiercer in her protection of Skye. He hadn't expected that show of ownership. Skye wasn't her biological child. He wasn't sure how he felt about their closeness.

In his head, he imagined Brooke like her sister Janelle. Janelle sucked as a mother. A drug addict who only cared about her addiction, she'd put Skye second in her life.

His cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled out his phone. Jagger had texted him.

Is everything okay?

He tapped the keys. Yeah

Jagger replied. Contact us if you need anything.

He slid the phone back into his pocket. Only Jagger understood what got him where he was today. The others accepted he had unfinished business from his past to handle, and he preferred to take care of everything on his own.

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