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He was getting erratic. The man who acted like he was in charge.

Trey Grundenman.

Powell knew exactly who he was now. She could see the resemblance between him and his sister Eden. Even Samia had similar eyebrows and a more feminine version of his jawline. And the dark curly hair. He was tall and on the thinner side too.

He was the man who had grabbed and groped Heather so crudely in that warehouse. The man from Wyoming. “What are you going to do to us?"

He brushed the hand holding the gun against his forehead. "I need to think. I need to get out of here, actually. Smart thing would be to head to Canada. I have connections up that way. I wasn’t exactly planning on McKellen and Erickson tonight. Those assholes. I had a plan. They fucking ruined it. Them, and Heather. When she gets here, I am going to shut her up for good. Buy myself some favors from the ones who think they are in charge. Bitches hate Heather and all the trouble she’s caused. Heather has always caused trouble. Bitch gets off on it."

Heather was on her way. Powell wasn't stupid. Heather had understood the message Powell had tried to send. But did he honestly think Heather would just walk right into this?

Did he think she and Heather were stupid?

Powell looked at her mom. There was so much fear on her mom's face. Her mom had always been so sensitive to any type of violence at all. She didn't even watch movies with the least bit of action or adventure. And her father protected her mother from the darker side of life every time it was necessary.

Powell looked at her dad. He wasn't moving. He just wasn't. Fear had her throat swelling, and her hands slicking. "So why don't you just go? We're not going to stop you. Or stand in your way. You can even take my dad's truck. They’ll let you out of the gates practically without even checking who you are in his truck. The keys are in the kitchen. If you go fast enough, you can get out the back entrance and be headed to Mexico or Canada within minutes. We’ll just stay here and help my dad. That’s all. You’d better go, fast.”

He had kissed her. Shoved his tongue in her mouth like he'd had the right. Nausea rose, just thinking about that.

Her mother wrapped her fingers around Powell's and pulled her tighter. Powell shifted, between her mother and the sight of Powell's dad on the floor.

"You are screwing Erickson. Pregnant with his kid. You ruined everything too. He definitely did. Has been ruining things for years."

"What did I ruin exactly?" Powell had to keep him talking. The longer he spent talking to her, the more likely it would be that Heather would get there. And Heather wouldn't come alone. Heather was too smart for that.

Powell just had to keep him talking, keep him distracted. Somehow.

"You ruined everything. Buying this house, buying that house. Always getting in the way. You and Heather. Heather, perfect Fucking Heather. No surprise. She's been ruining things since we were kids. Angela always believed Heather and Joy. Did you know that? Every time I even looked at them funny, they went running to Angie and tattled—and I would be the one to get in trouble.”

"Well, what did you do to them to make them tattle?"

Her mother sent her a look and shook her head in warning.

Powell just pulled her mother closer. She wasn't going to let him hurt her mom. She just wasn't. If that meant Powell kept his attention on her while she waited for Heather, so be it. "Well?"

"I didn't do a damned thing to them. That was the problem."

He came to the couch, yanked her up. "I'm going to take you with me. Until I get clear of this damned city. Then, if you behave, I'll let you go. I really don't have a problem with you, Powell. I never have. The exact opposite. But you had to get involved with Erickson, didn't you? Tell me, why him?"

"Because I love him. It’s as simple as that. I fell in love with him. Where is he?"

"Probably dead on the sidewalk. Pop, pop. Him and that asshole McKellen went down like nothing special. Definitely nothing special now. Pussies, both of them. Had those stupid cops not been circling the block, we’d have just left them there and taken off. But here we are. Time to have a conversation.”

Pure terror filled her, but Powell wasn't going to let him see that. "Are you sure of that? Gunnar...is strong. Determined. And he loves me. He will come for me."

"He's definitely determined, isn't he? He’s been screwing with my little enterprise for years. Damn, I seriously hate that big blond bastard. Poking his nose into everything. My pals at the TSP would have to scramble every time to keep him from finding things he had no business finding. Do you know how many times he came close to finding us, but one of our boys at the TSP would do a little magic at the last minute?"

"He's a man who knows what he wants. He's been looking for OPJ for a really long time." And now he had found it.

Powell knew exactly how dangerous this man in front of her was. She stood, walked over to her father. Just to check on him.She wasn’t going to cower in front of him. Heather had said…in the warehouse…not to show fear. That men like this got off on that fear.

She knelt down and felt for a pulse. Checked to see if her dad was breathing. He moaned when she touched him. Relief followed by more terror went through her. He was alive, but they had hurt him. And Powell didn't know how to fix this at all.

"Get over here," the younger Grundenman ordered. "Don't even think about running."

"I'm not going to run away and leave my parents here. I don't abandon the people I love when they need me most." Powell didn't know where the words were coming from, or the courage for that matter, but she wasn't going to let this monster win. She just wasn't. "Nor do I hurt my family."

"Like I did?"

"Yes. Why lie? You hurt Heather. And you enjoyed it."

"I did. That bitch has been causing me problems since she was twelve years old. Walking around so superior. Telling things she shouldn't. Her and that stupid twin of hers."

"You have a problem with Joy too?"

"Did. Joy was always a sexy little bitch, you know. Strutting around, making a guy all hot and bothered, and laughing about it. I know what you are doing, you know. Distracting me." He came to her and wrapped his hand around her arm. Powell tried not to jerk away, to scream. The idea of his hands on her at all—she really was feeling sick. “I have always liked smaller women. Probably because of her.”

"I feel sick.” Powell covered her stomach with one hand.

"That's right, he's knocked you up now, hasn't he?"

There was a lot of anger in his tone. Every time he mentioned Gunnar. "He's been looking for you for a long time."

"I've been right under his nose for that entire time. Guess your boyfriend isn’t that smart after all."

"How did you do it? The OPJ, where did it even come from? I know that drug from Claireson Pharm is part of it." Ariella and Rafe and Jillian Deane had both almost died because of that Solpalmitraln. So had so many other people Powell cared about. This man? This man was a part of it. "How was Steve Wilson involved?"

Before he could answer, a man came down the front hallway. “Trey?”

Powell just stared.

Timothy Grundenman stepped inside. "Trey, what are you doing?"

“Dad? What in the fuck are you doing here? I told you to get out of here.”

That was when she saw it. The first glimmer of fear in Trey’s eyes.

“I’m keeping you from making a stupid mistake. This has to end. It just does. I saw you through the window when I was at the park looking for your little sister’s doll, Trey.” Timothy looked at Powell. “Go sit down, young lady. Before you fall down. I need to talk to my son now.”

Was the guy insane? He’d just walked into her parents’ house like he’d been there a thousand times before.

Powell just sat down and waited. Her fingers wrapped around her mother’s as they listened.