Careless men got caught. I will not get caught.

Not for the first time, he cursed Miriam, wishing he could have been the one who’d snapped her neck instead of the random stranger who’d killed her. If she’d stayed where she was supposed to be—in Eden, with me—she’d still be alive. Her locket would be safe, instead of in the hands of the police. His photo would still be secure.

He’d told Pastor that putting their wedding photos in the women’s lockets was a terrible idea, but the man seriously thought he was infallible. After thirty years of being told he was God’s emissary, Eden’s own priest, Pastor believed his own press and had developed a serious God complex.

But Pastor was old. And I’m next in line. The only threat to his taking control of Eden after Pastor’s death was DJ Belmont.

And I’m about to grind him into the ground like the cockroach he is. As soon as he dragged little Mercy back to Eden, he’d be able to prove that DJ had lied. DJ had sworn to Pastor that he’d killed Mercy and buried her where her body would never be found.

But DJ’s lie was evidenced by the young woman walking into the ladies’ room, all by herself.

That she’d separated from her companions was a bit of luck. He didn’t want to have to kill the other two women, but he would if he had to. He wanted to take only Mercy back with him.

Where she belonged. And nobody was going to stop him.

TWO

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

SATURDAY, APRIL 15, 5:03 P.M.

Luckily the ladies’ room was completely unoccupied and quiet. She could think in the quiet. Not that she really wanted to think.

She was back in California. Back to Gideon. Back to Rafe. And back to the memories of Eden that seemed so much closer to the surface here.

Eden. As much as she dreaded having to face Gideon and Rafe again, just being in California had her nearly hyperventilating. Eden was here, somewhere. Somewhere north of Sacramento, way up in the mountains where monsters could hide and continue their abuse.

Monsters like Ephraim Burton and DJ Belmont. She shuddered. DJ had killed her mother, but it was Ephraim who’d terrified her to the depths of her soul. He still did. The memory of him, big and hulking, harsh hands that hit and hit, still had the power to reduce her to the traumatized girl she’d been. His one eye, intense and so cruel. His body that had . . . hurt her.

Say the word, Mercy. He raped you for an entire year. Until she’d nearly died. She would have died, had it not been for her mother’s sacrifice.

But Mama had sacrificed, enabling Mercy’s and Gideon’s escapes. Gideon had been searching for Eden ever since. He’d become a special agent with the FBI, to help people. To find Eden. To free the others who were still enslaved. Still afraid and hurting. While I ran away to hide from him, to hide from life. To hide from everything. All the while refusing to help him find the monsters that had taken everything.