She gave Nicole’s shoulder a gentle shake. “Wake up. I’m home.”

The teen’s brown eyes opened and she shoved her purple hair out of her face. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t feeling well.” At least it wasn’t a lie. “Go on home, and thanks for watching Rachel for me.”

Nicole grabbed her backpack and shambled out the door. “Why is there a cop car out here?”

Amanda looked past Nicole, and sure enough, a police car was parked out in front of her house. The officers inside saw her and nodded.

Isabelle’s doing, no doubt. Amanda was sure of it.

“I don’t know,” lied Amanda. “Guess the police are just patrolling the area.”

Amanda stood on the porch and watched Nicole, making sure she got home safe and sound. The neighborhood wasn’t horrible, but it got worse each year. A lot like her life.

When Nicole disappeared behind her front door, Amanda went back inside, stifling a sigh of defeat. Her house was a wreck. Bills and junk mail littered every horizontal surface. Laundry was piled in one corner, waiting for her to find time to get to it. There was a sinkful of dishes and a nearly empty pantry she didn’t have the money to fill.

If she left, it wasn’t as if she’d be leaving much behind. A few belongings. A lot of bad memories.

She found herself standing in Rachel’s doorway, watching her sleep. She seemed to gravitate there when things were bad. Rachel was the one bright spot in her life, and even though she was a sad, broken child, at least they were together. A pair of sad, broken people trying to find their way to happiness.

Amanda’s one wish was that Rachel would succeed.

She shifted in her sleep, whimpering and curling into a tighter ball under the threadbare blanket. Amanda’s heart twisted as she went to hold her daughter.

Bobby had been gone almost a year now, but he still managed to ruin their lives. She prayed every night he’d burn in hell for it, and if that made her a bad person, then so be it.

“Momma?” said Rachel in a tiny, frightened voice. She’d learned to be quiet at Bobby’s hand and had never lost the habit.

“I’m here, baby. Momma’s here.”

Rachel clung to her, her thin body surprisingly strong. Maybe the rest of her was strong, too. Isabelle seemed to think so. Amanda could only hope.

“I was dreaming again.”

“It’s just a dream. It’s not real.” Anymore.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“I was thinking we could take a little trip. Go somewhere fun, like a vacation.”

Rachel rubbed her eyes. “Now?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“It’s night.”

“I know. We can see the stars better this way.”

Her bottom lip started to wobble. “I don’t want to go.”

“Why not?”

Rachel’s grip tightened, and Amanda could feel her trembling. “Please don’t make me go.”

Amanda had no idea what had upset Rachel, but she pulled her into a tight hug and rocked her. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

Rachel pushed away and scrambled against the far wall, clutching the covers tight against her chest. “I don’t want to go back. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Go back where, baby? I don’t know what you mean.”

“To live with Daddy. Please don’t make me. I’ll be good, Momma.”

Amanda captured her daughter’s face gently in her hands, making sure she was looking right into her eyes. The fear she saw there nearly tore her apart, and she’d do anything to take away the pain Rachel had suffered. “I’d never send you away, baby. Not ever. You and I are a team, and I’d never be able to get along without you.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Not a chance. What made you think I’d ever send you away?”

“Christopher told me. His mom sent him to live with his dad so she could have a boyfriend.”

“Baby, the last thing I want is a boyfriend. And even if I did, I’d never want one who didn’t want you.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Then I don’t have to go?”

Rachel was on the verge of another breakdown. Amanda could see it in the desperate gleam brightening her eyes. She couldn’t survive that again. Neither of them could.

Of course, they wouldn’t survive a killer, either.

“I’m sorry, baby. We have to go. But don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere near Daddy.”

“Promise?” asked Rachel as her chin started to tremble and her eyes filled with tears.

“I swear it. We’ll go see Vicky. Remember her?” Vicky had been Amanda’s closest friend for years before Bobby had slept with her and shoved a wedge between them. Vicky had moved to Tulsa for work, and even though they hadn’t spoken since, maybe she’d open her door to them for a few days. It was worth a shot.

Rachel nodded. “She had orange hair.”

A small smile tugged at Amanda’s mouth. “It’s called red, but you’re right. That’s her.”

“I liked her.”

“Good. That makes two of us. Put on some clothes while I pack, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Amanda didn’t own a suitcase, so she threw the few good outfits she and Rachel had into a trash sack and hauled it out to her trunk.

Ten minutes later, they were on the road in a car that barely started. Amanda had fifty bucks in her pocket and a credit card that was nearly maxed out. Beside her, Rachel sat in silence, clutching her pillow as she stared out at the road ahead.

Behind them, a police cruiser followed at a discreet distance as they hit the highway and headed to Tulsa.

Keith stayed hidden in Amanda’s closet until his legs started to go numb. He’d heard the front door close and the engine of Amanda’s car rattle to life about ten minutes ago, but he wasn’t sure if it was safe to come out yet.

The police were here. He’d heard Amanda talking about it with her babysitter.

Keith couldn’t be caught now. Not yet. So he stayed hidden and waited until he was sure they’d left.

In her haste to leave, Amanda had left the bedroom light on, and the dingy lace curtains would do nothing to obscure his movement from the police if they were still there.

Why they’d be watching an empty house he had no idea, but he was sure they were still out there. He could hear them breathing, panting like a dog, like Lavine always did.

No. Keith shook his head to clear it. Lavine was dead, and those cops were too far away for him to hear them breathe. It was just his imagination.

He was rattled, that was all. His nerves were getting the better of him. The stress of everyone knowing what he was doing was too much. He’d liked it a lot better when it was his secret—one he shared with his brothers and sisters one at a time. Now he felt like everyone was watching. Judging him.

None of them understood. They all thought he was hurting people.

Isabelle had actually called them murders, as if it was some kind of crime he committed, as if he was no better than the scum he defended. Drug dealers and pimps and armed robbers. He wasn’t like them. What he was doing was good, and if the dead could speak, Isabelle would know he’d saved them. She’d look at him with that bright glow of adoration in her eyes like she did when she looked at Grant.

Just the thought was enough to make him want to find her and show her what he was doing. She might not understand now, but once all that fear was gone, once she was free and happy, she’d see he’d been right all along.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Isabelle watched Grant slip into the bathroom, and she knew by the way he moved so furtively that he wasn’t coming back to bed with her.

Her chest tightened as her bathroom door clicked shut, but she refused to give in to the urge to cry. Or run after him.

She’d always known he would leave, and no matter how good the sex had been, it changed nothing. It was best if she got used to the idea of him going sooner rather than later.

Besides, if he’d stayed, she’d want him again. And if he was here, she might just take what she wanted and wake her son up with noises he should never have to associate with her.

So, even though her body felt sated and heavy, she dragged her butt out of bed and put on some pajamas before Grant could come back, see her naked, and change her mind.

And he could. She had no doubt about that. The man could read the nutritional label on a cereal box and make her hot. He’d nearly killed her with pleasure, and she was already considering the possibility of convincing him to do it again.

She slid her shirt over her head, and when she looked up, he was in her bathroom doorway, leaning against the opening. He was shirtless, and she stopped dead in her tracks, unable to do anything but stare and soak in the sight of his body. He had a sprinkling of dark blond hair across his pecs that narrowed and led her eyes down to where it disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.

At least he was wearing pants. That should have given her some advantage in resisting him, but instead, she found herself wondering how long it would take her to get him naked again—just like she wanted.

“You look tired,” he said.

“I am.” But she’d find the energy to stay awake if it meant she got to touch him again.

“You should go back to sleep.” Without him. She saw that truth glittering in his eyes.

“I will. What about you?” she asked.

“It’s still early. I’m going to work on the security system and hang out until Dale is back from Angela’s. I’ll be careful not to wake you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep a bit?” she asked. It would have felt good to curl up with him for a while and soak up his heat.

“Maybe later.” He walked past her and pulled down the blankets on her bed. “Want me to climb in and warm it up for you?” he asked.

“I might not ever let you get out if you do,” she teased.

Grant looked away before she could see his reaction, but he was silent, which made her wonder if she’d said something wrong. She knew he wasn’t the type to be tied down to one woman, but he’d always been able to take a joke. She wasn’t sure what to think.

Isabelle slid under the blankets and accepted Grant’s good-night kiss to her forehead. She felt insecure now, like she’d made some irreparable mistake. He started to walk away, and she knew she’d never be able to sleep if she was worried about what he was thinking.

She grabbed his hand before he could get away. “Grant, I didn’t mean anything by that.”

He looked at her and his eyes were bright topaz, almost glowing. “I know you didn’t.”

“Then why do you look so freaked out?”

His jaw bulged as if he was angry. “As much as I wish it was different, I can’t be the kind of man you need. You want stability for a family, for the children you plan to bring into your home.”

“How did you know that’s what I planned?”

“Bunk beds and kid-sized furniture in the guest room. Ads for swing sets and toys cut out of the paper. Brand-new child locks on all the cabinets and drawers with dangerous stuff in them. You’re preparing for a family.”