Page 27 of Cruel Secrets

I’m sure that he’ll take care of Bianca—he has the last few days whenever he’s noticed she needs something—but I don’t know what his loyalties to me are.

Likely none.

Another crack sounds and I jump, shuffling deeper into the closet until my back hits a laundry basket. Floorboards creak on the other side of the wall. It must border the stairs. I lean closer to the side, listening as the steps grow louder, heavy boots clunking against the floor. Bianca’s soft snores fill the closet thankfully. Right now, the worst thing for her to do would be to start screaming.

The footsteps get louder and somewhere else on the floor, doors are thrown open.

I take a deep breath before setting Bianca into the laundry basket. It’s close enough to the ground that if she decides to wake up and get out, she won’t hurt herself.

Once she’s nestled comfortably, I get on my stomach, looking beneath the crack in the door as light floods the room.

Dark boots walk across the light rug, heavy thuds following each step until they get closer to me. I hold my breath as the feet stop in front of the door.

It’s then that I notice the blood trickling down them and staining the carpet.

For what feels like an eternity, I don’t breathe. There’s no way that I can. Not when there’s someone standing right outside the door and Royce wasn’t wearing shoes when he left the room.

“Do you think they’re in here?” a voice asks, tone low as a second set of shoes enters the room.

“Not sure.” The man in front of the door shifts slightly. “Thought I heard something up here before Lynde came down.”

“Nothing in the closet?”

Fuck.

I can’t do anything. If they open the door, I’m going to be caught.

Although, if I rush out of here now, they might find me and not Bianca.

Shifting back on my heels, I reach for the doorknob, ready to turn it when a scream comes from downstairs.

The men run out of the room, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved in my life. I set the gun on the ground and run my hands down my face, chest rising and falling rapidly.

I don’t move a muscle. Not when the men could come back at any moment. Bianca is still sleeping soundly in the basket, unbothered by the blanket in the bottom.

Shuffling to the side, I pull the blanket out of the basket, leaving her in the otherwise empty basket, and lining the outside of it with the thick and fluffy material.

Staying still feels impossible when all I want to do is get to my feet and kill whoever the hell it is that is a threat to my daughter.

But there’s a chance that they would kill me before I even got the gun up. Or they would hear me, yank open the door, and then kill us both.

All I can do right now is hope that Royce gets here as soon as possible.

Another shout comes from somewhere else in the house before it seems like an avalanche falls down the stairs. I still don’t know what is happening out there, but it feels like an eternity is stretching in front of us.

And I don’t know if Royce is coming.

Leaning over the side of the basket, I press a kiss to Bianca’s forehead. “Mama is going to be right back. I love you so much my little Bia bean.”

I stare at her for another few seconds in the dark, barely able to make out the expression on her little face.

With gun in hand, I get up as more gunshots sound downstairs. Shouting comes from what sounds like one of the men who was in the room. The tone of the voice is right—a little gravelly—but I still can’t hear what they’re saying to each other.

My hand shakes as I check the magazine one last time before easing open the door a crack. There’s nobody in the room, and as I step out, I can’t help but feel this is a horrible idea.

Royce told me to stay put and if he knew I was out, he would lose his mind.

I can’t just sit and do nothing while my daughter is in danger, though.

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