The one bedroom house where I now lived was dinky compared to my home before they’d arrested Dad, but I paid for the rental with my own money, and I felt safe there…as safe as I could with my shadow inciting constant paranoia. Zach hadn’t made a peep in over six months. Jax assured me I was safe from him, but he refused to tell me what had become of my brother, and I didn’t want to think about it long enough to speculate. A person could go nuts thinking about this shit.

I pulled into the driveway and silenced the engine, wiped my eyes, then pushed the car door open. Placing one boot on the cement, I stepped lightly so I wouldn’t slip on ice before taking cautious steps toward the front porch. But when I raised my eyes, the world came to a standstill. Someone had tacked a note to the door. With trembling fingers, I unpinned it and slowly unfolded the piece of paper.

I’m coming for you.

The note fell from my hands, and I stared at the doorknob as if it would jump out and bite me. Those were Rafe’s words.

His.

But he wasn’t coming back. I hadn’t wanted to accept it, but I had, so that only left one other option. Someone else was threatening me. Maybe one of the men from the underground had escaped the police. What if they’d missed the one bad guy who would find me and do the unthinkable?

Or…what if Zach was here to take me again? He could have gone into hiding, watching and waiting until I let down my guard—until there was no one left to stop him, not even our screwed up dad.

But those words…

Someone was playing with my head. Grinding my teeth, I jammed my hand into my purse and pulled out my gun and keys. This was going to end, one way or another. I jerked the key toward the knob but missed. After two more impatient, freaked-out attempts, I inserted the key and turned.

The door was unlocked.

Oh God.

I retreated, and a slow tingle of dread overtook me. Someone was already inside my house. Waiting. Hunting. I swallowed the acidic taste of vomit, gripped the gun handle tighter, and gave myself a mental push forward. I wedged the door open with the toe of my boot, certain I’d locked it, just as I was certain I’d left the light on near the entrance. The shadows of late afternoon screamed at me to run in the opposite direction. I warred with myself, the saner part demanding I get into the car and find a safe place, but I was tired of running.

I’d sooner die.