feet froze to the spot. She gasped as a hand gripped her upper arm, jerking her around and shoving her back against the stone wall, making her drop the flashlight. The wire frame of one of her wings snapped. Its sharp point stabbed below her shoulder blade.
“You got tha’ right, bitch. Game’s over, sure as hell.”
His hot, rank breath bathed her face, along with a spray of spit. Her stomach convulsed, and she swallowed hard.
“Where’s my boy? Why you callin’ him?”
My boy? “Y-you’re Howie’s dad.”
“Tha’s right.” He nodded and the movement caused him to sway. His fingers tightened around her arm as he stumbled against her. “Is ’e lost? Wha’ve you done with ’im?”
She fought the urge to wince, her gut telling her that this guy preyed on weakness, used pain to intimidate.
He wasn’t a big man. Medium height and thin—skinny, actually. Wobbly on his feet. A hard shove might knock him down and give her a chance to run. But the grip on her arm might take her down with him. If he got her on the ground... She shuddered.
His head tilted, and his mouth curled into a sneer. “Where’s ’e? Th’ li’l bastard bet’r not’ve tol’ you ’bout our plan.”
He lowered his eyes until they were level with hers, and she could read the range of his emotions. Rage...fear...desperation. Of the three, the last was the most frightening. A desperate man was capable of anything. She had no chance against him, but Rick would. Rick could take him out with one swipe. Where was he? Had they found Howie yet? Surely Rick would come looking for her... If she could just stall.
Despite the stench, she took a deep breath, trying to control her trembling knees that kept threatening to buckle. “I don’t know anything about a plan. We were playing hide-and-seek.”
Howard Gerard’s voice settled into a menacing growl. “Don’t lie t’ me!” He jerked her away from the wall and threw her in the direction of the truck. She didn’t have time to pull her skirt up. Her feet caught in the hem, pitching her forward onto her knees. She struggled to get up, once again aware of a tight grip around her bicep, hauling her onto her feet. “Tell me where he’s at.”
“Don’t hurt her, Dad.” A timid voice drifted out of the darkness. “I’m here.” The vise around her arm dropped away as Howie crept slowly from the shadow of the opposite side of the house.
“Why’d you come early, boy?” The threat of a beating lay in the tone.
Howie’s shoulders absorbed his scrawny neck as he cowered, looking like a whipped puppy. “I wasn’t sure...wasn’t sure I could get past...past Mr. Kenny. I thought this’d be better. I knew you’d be here already.” His eyes darted toward Summer.
Was the lie as obvious to Howard Gerard as it was to her? Howie had been there all along...led them to his dad...waited, hoping...
“Git ’n the truck.”
The child moved quickly to obey.
Adrenaline shot through Summer’s veins. “He isn’t going anywhere with you!” She lunged at the man, catching his side with her shoulder like she’d seen football players tackle the opponent. His reaction time was stymied, giving her the advantage. She watched the ground coming up to meet them, felt the air forced from her lungs as they landed in a twisted heap.
Howard Gerard threw her off him with a roar, and she hit the ground a second time. She scrambled to rise, but the costume tangled around her legs, slowing her down. By the time she got squared on her feet, so had he.
He advanced on her, a bull seeing red, but she stood her ground. If she ran, Howie didn’t stand a chance.
“Nobody’s gonna keep m’ boy away from me, bitch.” His fingers dug into her arms, just below the shoulders, and he shook her so hard, her head bobbled as if her neck were a spring. He shouted, venting his frustration at the world. “You hear me? Nobody! Not m’ wife...not th’ law...not you!”
He held her upper arms tight against her sides, allowing no reach to her blind slaps, but she threw as many kicks as she dared, fighting to stay upright. And she screamed...over and over. “Run, Howie! Get help!”
One hand left her. Seizing the opportunity, she drew her free arm back, mustering all her strength into the intended punch. Before she could follow through, the back of his hand connected with her jaw. Her head snapped sideways and back with such force her body