“Wait!” I cry again and step off the curb.
A strong, thick hand wraps around my upper arm and yanks me back. I scream and try fighting off the stranger.
Dad sees it happen and tries to break free. “Let her go!”
“Dad!” Tears streak down my face as I reach for him, but I’m held back.
“Savannah Bartlett? We have some questions for you, too,” the man growls in my ear.
I recoil and look for the deep voice. It’s another FBI agent wearing an identical jacket. His bushy eyebrows are furrowed, and his light brown hair is perfectly tamed.
I try my argument again. Maybe they’ll realize they have the wrong man and let him go. “There’s been a mistake. My father couldn’t have killed anyone. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”
The agent sneers at me, shaking me. “Your preciousfatheris a fucking monster who has tortured, raped, and murdered two dozen women. And I’m sure the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
My breath saws in and out of my lungs as I understand the agent’s implication.
This isn’t true. There’s no way. Dad is not that kind of man. He works in IT. He goes to church every Sunday and picks up every volunteer opportunity possible. He helps our old neighbor carry in her groceries because she struggles up the stairs.
“Huntley! Ease up!” Another agent approaches us, his irritation directed at Agent Huntley.
“She’shisdaughter,” Huntley sneers, as if I’m the most disgusting person on the planet.
The other agent’s tone is harsh. “Let her go. That’s an order.”
Huntley releases me with a shove, pushing me in the direction of the new agent.
“You’ll be lucky if I don’t write you up for use of excessive force.” The agent clenches his jaw, but his demeanor shifts when he turns to me and removes his jacket, placing it around my shoulders. I didn’t realize I was shivering until the warmth of the material touches my skin. “Miss Bartlett, I’m Agent Marreli. How about I give you a ride to the FBI field office?”
I accept his offer with a nod.
He guides me over to another SUV and ushers me into the backseat. Before he shuts the door, I turn to him. “Agent Marreli,there really has been a mistake. My father couldn’t have done this. He’s a good man.”
He sympathetically shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Bartlett, but the evidence points to him, and it’s damning.”
The door shuts in my face, and I shift to face forward. My chest feels hollow as I struggle for air.
Dad didn’t do this. It’s not possible.
But…what if?
Does that mean I’ve been raised by someone possessed by evil?
If so…what does that make me?
CHAPTER 1
SAVANNAH, 11 YEARS LATER
Bounding down the stairs, I take the steps two at a time as I twist my hair up into the only claw clip that can hold all of it. If I don’t kick it into gear, I’ll miss my train, won’t be able to spend as much time at my computer, and will be late for work.
“Dang it,” I swear under my breath.
I knew I shouldn’t have read that next chapter ofWritten in the Beat. But dang it, Breanna Lynn sure knows how to make me turn the page. I woke up this morning with my book on my chest because I fell asleep trying to find out what happens with Charlie and Jax.
As soon as I make it through the door and hit the sidewalk, the crisp air of the morning cuts through my coat. Even though I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ll never get used to the way the cold chills me all the way to my bones.
The street is still quiet aside from a few fellow early morning workers, all trying to earn a living in this expensive city.
