Page 11 of August 20

Maverick walked down the hallway out of sight. The visitor shifted. Alerted to movement, Brooke stood, pulling Skye from the table.

"Come on, honey." She led Skye by the hand, but her niece balked.

"I don't want to go to the room." Skye flopped down on the floor so she wouldn't have to walk down the hallway. "I want to go outside."

The rare outbursts from Skye took her by surprise. She was an easygoing kid and adapted to changes remarkably well for someone who'd lived through a nightmare childhood prior to living with Brooke.

But today, she understood the temper tantrum. She, too, wanted to throw herself on the floor and yell her demands. She wanted out of the fucking house.

Clasping her head, she looked at Skye and had no idea how to fix their problem. She felt like crying.

"She can go outside and play."

At the unfamiliar voice, Brooke turned and found Dio approaching them.

"There's a swing set out there." Dio scratched his beard.

He had light brown hair. Almost a golden shade to his beard. But it wasn't his appearance that filled her with hope.

"You're going to let us walk out the door? You're going to let us go?" Brooke gawked.

Before Dio answered, a door in the hallway opened. Maverick entered the dining room. She tried to read his face, but his stoic expression remained unchanged.

She wanted to ask Dio to stand up to Maverick and allow them to go outside but was afraid if she made any kind of demand, he'd hold them hostage longer.

If she could go outside, she could scream. She could run. She could hide Skye somewhere she'd be safe.

"She ate." Dio lifted his chin. "The kid wants to go."

Maverick strolled between her and Skye and headed to the living room. Dio motioned for her to follow. Hesitantly, in case one of them changed their mind, she picked Skye up from the floor, and even though she was too big to lug around, she carried her to the front door and stepped outside.

Fresh salty air hit her in the face. Absolute relief swept through her. She clenched her teeth together to keep from crying and hugged Skye harder.

Her niece pushed herself out of Brooke's arms and ran toward the swing set. Panic filled her.

"Skye?" She ran after her.

After days of being at her side, sharing her bed, and being held hostage, she couldn't let Skye do anything that would gain the attention of the men.

She reached the slide at the end of the play structure and glanced behind her, prepared to see the men coming after them. But instead, they stood beside two motorcycles in the driveway, not even looking at her and Skye.

"Honey." She flung the swing out of her way to reach her. "Come with me."

She grabbed her niece's hand and tugged her toward the edge of the yard. Adrenaline made her clumsy, and she almost tripped.

"Hurry." She ran forward only to stagger to a stop, blocking Skye from tumbling down a fifteen-foot vertical drop covered in rocks.

Breathing hard, she peered over the cliff's edge, then looked to her right. The drop-off was impossible. Even without Skye with her, she'd fall.

"Aunt Brooke, I want to swing." Skye pulled on her hand. "Let me go."

Blocked in every direction, she wanted to cry. While Skye questioned why the men were at the house—she'd explained their presence away as a mix-up in who was renting, and for the time being, they had to share the home and stay out of each other's way until they could find somewhere else to live.

She couldn't put all her fears on her niece.

Today was supposed to be her first day of work at Sea Lion Hotel. Without her phone to call her new boss or a way to get there, she had to accept she no longer had a job to support them.

But would that even matter if Maverick decided to kill them today?

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