Page 61 of The White Picket Fence

Kevin had driven around town for an hour, ditching the truck for an SUV before finally heading to the house. He’d well and truly lost Lieutenant Lawrence’s cops.

I’m on my own.

“What do you think?” he asked as he pulled into a driveway. “Welcome home.”

Charlotte stared up at the house in shock.

It’s our house.

The house Tino had dreamed about all those years ago. It was blue with gingerbread trim and a wraparound front porch. It had a tin roof and the cherry tree in the front yard was in full, gorgeous bloom.

It was...surreal.

“It’s...” She turned her stare onto Kevin as he pulled straight into an attached garage, lowering the door behind them with a touch to the opener attached to the visor of the Ford Explorer. “How did you choose this house?” she finally asked.

He frowned as he turned off the engine. “You told me that this was your dream. That one day you’d live in a blue Victorian with gingerbread trim, a tin roof, and a wraparound porch. You’d have a porch swing and we’d sit in it for hours, admiring the blossoms on our very own cherry tree.”

Charlotte had absolutely no recollection of that conversation, but she needed to play along. “And you remembered. After all this time.”

“I remember every word you’ve ever said.”

Wow. Okay.She made herself smile even as she racked her brain for any memory of that conversation, but there was none. “You’re so sweet.”

He beamed. “Wait until you see the inside. I had some renovations done. Everything was already pretty new. This isn’t a hundred-year-old house. It was built twenty years ago in the Victorian style. I wanted to find a genuine Victorian, but I think this is better. Fewer things we’ll have to fix. And we’re only the second owners. But the kitchen wasn’t good enough for you, not with you being a chef.”

“Not anymore,” she said, more out of habit. Then cursed herself when he slowly turned to look at her.

“What does that mean?” he asked, his eyes suddenly narrowed and angry.

She decided to be honest. “Just that after my car accident all those years ago, my hip has been less than fully functional. I can’t stay on my feet for the hours required to be a chef in a restaurant kitchen. But I love to cook in my own kitchen.”

I loved cooking for Tino and his brother. And for Kayla.

He relaxed. “Good. I can’t wait for you to cook for me. That will be your primary responsibility.”

“Okay,” she managed. “Good to know. What are my other responsibilities?”

Please don’t say sex. Please.

“Pleasing me,” he said seriously. “In all things,” he added with an underlying note of menace that made Charlotte want to shudder.

She had to hold herself steady when he cupped her face in one big hand. It felt horrible. Wrong. Her stomach roiled.

But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t gag. Instead, she leaned into his palm.

Play the game, Charlotte. Save Kayla.

She held the pose until he pulled his hand away. “Take off the wig. We’re home now.” She obeyed, removing the black wig he’d forced her to put on when they’d changed from the truck to the SUV. “Let’s go inside. I want to see your face when you see what I’ve done for you.”

Kevin gripped her arm just a little too hard as he pulled her out of the vehicle, tugging her toward the door into the house.

“That hurts, Kevin.”

He tightened his grip substantially, making her try to pull away on reflex. “Can’t have you running away.”

She had to breathe through the sharp pain. “I promised I wouldn’t.”

“You also promised you’d write to me from college,” he said bitterly. “I waited every day for a letter and none came.”

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