“The house was quiet when he left her room. And dark. He prowled the hallways, trying to ease his persistent restlessness. Downstairs, he checked the windows and doors to make sure they were still locked. Moonlight from the large window in the entranceway cast angular shadows down the hall. He ended up in the hallway outside the basement door. It was easy to conjure up the eyes that had haunted him since his adolescence. He could look away, blink, but, in the darkness, there was nowhere to hide ...from the memory. The ski mask had hidden the bastard’s face, just as the tinted window of the Mercedes had. But he had a name now, thanks to Eden. Jefferson Holbrook. Apparently, his dad’s association with the WKB went way back. Ty told himself to open the basement door, walk down the steps, face what waited down there. For chrissake, he was no puling fourteen-year-old bent naked over his father’s desk. He was a man, equal in strength to his father or Holbrook, or the thugs Holbrook had brought with him that last time.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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