"Sit down," he ordered, and nudged her into a rickety chair at the kitchen table. Quickly, he knelt and slipped the cuffs around her ankle and a table leg. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he rose. "I'll get you some coffee."

"Thank you." Her eyes swept the room swiftly in search of a weapon within reach.

"You'll be out of here by tonight," Terry told her as he poured coffee without taking his eyes from her. "He's already getting the money together. I probably could have asked for twice as much."

"You won't be happy with it."

"He'll be unhappy," Terry countered. "That's what counts."

"Terry, you're wasting your life this way." He looked so young, she thought. Too young to have so much hate packed inside him. "It took brains to plan everything out the way you have. Brains and skill. You could be putting your mind to so much better use. If you let me go now, I might be able to help you. My brother—"

"I don't want your help," he said between his teeth. "I want Blade. I want him to crawl."

"Justin won't crawl," she said wearily.

"Lady, I heard him on the phone. He'd crawl to hell and back for you."

"Terry—"

"Shut up!" he shouted at her as his nerves threatened to snap. "I've spent all of my life working out how I was going to make Blade pay. I had to watch my mother scrimp and save and work in a sleazy diner while he got richer and richer instead of rotting in a cell. I'm entitled to the money, and I'm going to have it." Resigned, Serena dropped her gaze to the table. "Look, I'm going to fix something to eat. Are you hungry?"

She started to tell him no, then realized he'd just lock her back in the bedroom. Instead, she merely nodded, keeping her face averted while she tried to think.

Hearing him rummaging in the cupboard, she gave her leg a testing jerk. She was going to have to take a chance. When he took the cuff off this time, she'd fight. With luck, she could surprise him enough to at least get outside, get someone's attention. If there were anyone close enough to hear her shouting…

When she looked back up, Terry had a large cast iron skillet in his hand. Without giving herself a chance to think, Serena moaned and began to slip slowly toward the floor.

"Hey!" Alarmed, he rushed over, dropping the skillet beside her as he tried to lift her by the shoulders. "What is it?" he demanded. "Are you sick?"

"I feel faint," she said weakly as her fingers closed over the handle of the skillet. She made herself go limp until his face bent over hers. Using all of her strength, she crashed the skillet against the side of his head. He went down like a stone.