Page 56 of The White Picket Fence

“I know, but I was...embarrassed, I guess.”

She wondered how he’d inherited property while incarcerated—and how he’d managed to keep his inheritance. But she wasn’t going to ask because he looked softer, like maybe she could build a bridge between them.

She’d use that bridge to run for her life as soon as she could.

“My father hit my mom once,” she said. “She was going to leave him then, but stayed in the marriage for me. They still fought like cats and dogs, and I kept waiting for the day when he’d hit her again. He might have, but she insisted that he didn’t.”

He sucked in a soft gasp. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know. It was easier to wear the mask of the popular girl who had everything.”

He hmmed at that as he turned into an alley between a liquor store and a pawnshop, stopping the minivan behind a beat-up old pickup truck. “Get out.”

“Why?”

His head whipped around so fast that she shrank back against the passenger door. His expression was one of pure fury. That he’d so quickly pivoted from concern to rage was terrifying. “I said you listen tomenow. Have you forgotten?”

“No,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry what?”

She stared at him for a beat then remembered. “Sorry, sir.”

“Good.” He got out and rounded the van to her side, yanking the door open. He pulled her out and began frisking her.

Don’t flinch. Don’t cringe.

“No phone. Good girl,” he said, then gathered her into his arms and once again she told herself not to cringe.

Gingerly, she laid her head on his shoulder. His hold tightened for several more beats of her racing heart before he released her. “Let’s go.”

She wanted to ask where but didn’t want to anger him. Then her heart sank as he led her to the pickup truck that was parked in front of them. “Get in,” he said, picking her up and tossing her in the passenger seat.

She hit her hip hard and couldn’t stop her cry of pain.

He glared at her when he’d climbed into the driver’s seat. “That did not hurt.”

“My hip,” she explained, pressing her fist into the joint. “Messed up from a car accident.”

He looked instantly contrite. “I didn’t know.”

“I use a cane, but I left it behind. I was rattled after you called.” That was the truth. All she’d been able to think was that Kayla had already suffered enough because of Kevin’s obsession, and Charlotte would be damned if the girl suffered any more.

Leaving the black minivan behind, Kevin started up the truck and drove them out of the alley on the opposite side from where they’d entered. “Oh, right. I saw you with it. Well, you can relax. I’ll buy you another cane. But once you’ve had time to rest, you’ll feel better. You won’t even need it.” He smiled, sending a shiver down her spine. “It’s not like you’ll be leaving our house for anything. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Where is our house?” she asked, hearing the quaver in her voice and hoping that didn’t anger him.

He didn’t seem to notice. “You’ll see,” he said cheerfully.

She glanced in the side mirror as he headed toward the interstate, taking her away from safety. Taking her away from Tino.

Hurry, Tino. Please find me.

* * *

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 11:15 a.m.

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