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Caleb had something to do with this. Caleb paid Ricky to keep tabs on her. She had witnessed not only the exchange of money, but the subsequent conversation detailing everything she had done that week while at work. It wasn’t the first time either. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put it together, especially with how Caleb knew details only someone at the diner would know, like with whom she spoke. Ricky clearly kept Caleb in the loop about everything she did and what her pay and tips looked like from the start.

Caleb kept her completely under his thumb.

What had been the point in her going full time after she graduated high school if her hours were going to be cut down to the same hours as a student?

She tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ward off the tears that threatened to fall. A new job wasn’t going to help if Caleb kept stealing her money, and if something didn’t change, she would be stuck here forever.

A month after her eighteenth birthday, she tried to run away. She bought a bus ticket and planned to go to Florida, a place her mother always wanted to live. She had barely any money to take with her, but she figured she could find a job fairly quickly when she arrived. Someone working at the bus depot must have been on their payroll because the Wilcox family got wind of what she tried to do and immediately put a stop to it.

She didn’t even make it to the bus.

When coming out of the bathroom at the depot, two men in suits stopped her in the hallway and guided her to their car. The gun pointing at her from beneath one man’s jacket was enough incentive for her to get into the car without making a scene and allow them to take her to Caleb and his grandparents.

Her last name likely aroused suspicion. She wanted to change it to her mother’s maiden name—she didn’t benefit from the Wilcox name anyway, but Caleb said there was no point when she was destined to remain a Wilcox. Choosing her battles carefully, she didn’t argue. When she finally got away from him, she could change her name. No sense in facing whatever consequence Caleb would bring when it wasn’t that big of a deal in the short term.

His grandparents told her if she tried to run away again, Caleb would be the least of her concerns. They made it crystal clear they had no issue making sure no one heard from her again. It would be easier for Caleb to get his proper education and fall in line with a lady of the appropriate pedigree—not opportunistic trash—if Blaire was dead and gone.

After they left the main Wilcox estate, Caleb made sure she couldn’t return to work for a week.

When he was twenty, Caleb’s grandparents had intended for him to attend Savannah’s Christmas Cotillion—the oldest debutante ball in the United States—to meet prospective brides in high society, but with everything that occurred when their parents died that year, and him finally expressing his twisted vision of a future with Blaire, their aspirations for their grandbaby took a hit. As if they needed any more reason to resent her. If it weren’t for their indulgence of their spoiled only grandson, she would already be disposed of.

Their attitude didn’t stop Blaire from saving up for her freedom. Someday she would find a way to escape, and when she did, returning could be dangerous.

The threat her step-grandparents laid out for her sent chills down her spine. How could they be so cavalier about taking someone’s life?

She was truly trapped.

2

STRANGE ENCOUNTER

Stepping out of the diner into the busy walkway of Valley Center Plaza, Blaire breathed in the fresh air, glad to be finished with her unexpectedly long shift brought on by the evening rush.

The day started badly, but by the time the rush rolled out, with the help of additional aspirin, she felt much better.

The bells on the side door jingled as Charlotte stepped out, waving at Blaire.

“I’m so glad that’s over! If I dealt with one more pervy dude trying to look down my uniform, I was going to need a lawyer and bail money.” She huffed, blowing wayward curls from her face.

Blaire laughed, shaking her head. “You know it’s always like that whenever there’s a rush. All the crazies like to show up.” She adjusted her duffel bag on her shoulder. “I wonder if they host a monthly meeting or something.”

“Yeah, but honestly? I think I want to get a reduction.” She gestured toward her chest. Cute and compact, but blessed, Charlotte frequently got unwanted attention in the diner.

The uniforms they wore didn’t do much to stop the harassment. In fact, Blaire knew they encouraged it, and Ricky sure didn’t care. He figured if the customers were attracted to his staff, they would keep coming back. A real piece of work, that one.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Blaire said. “I mean, it’s not like you’ll be stuck here forever, and there’s no point in butchering yourself because scumbags can’t act like mature adults.” She shook her head. “I can’t wrap my mind around the way we’re expected to change ourselves to accommodate and cater to those who can’t control themselves when they”—she motioned toward the diner with one hand—“are the ones who should be learning how to behave.” She sighed in frustration.

Charlotte fidgeted and tugged on her shirt hem. “It’s always that way, though. Back in high school, I got sent home all the time because my shirts were ‘inappropriate and distracting.’ Even this one.” She gestured to the lavender tank top with wide straps and a scoop neck that barely revealed her cleavage.

Girls wore shirts like that all the time at the public high school. The straps were wide enough to fit the standard dress codes, so Blaire couldn’t understand why Charlotte would be sent home for distracting boys. She shook her head.

“Don’t let it get to you. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Blushing, Charlotte smiled and dug around in her purse before pulling out a wad of cash. “At least one benefit of the rush is I think I made enough in tips this week to finally buy the new PlayStation. Now if only I can find it in stock somewhere.”

How lucky she was to only worry about saving for the latest console, not having to worry about someone else laying claim to her wages. Blaire wondered what it would be like to buy things like a car, makeup, clothes, and a cell phone. That wasn’t her life, though. It would never be her life with Caleb as long as the Wilcox name hovered over her head.

She made a nice sum in tips during the rush, at least enough to get delicious Chinese takeout on her way home before she gave up the rest. She hadn’t been able to save enough through the week for any luxuries, even if it were possible to use it on such things; she opted to put any extra in her savings. Caleb made sure to clean out her account and took her tips nightly, so it was a moot point. She couldn’t hide part of her check either, because Ricky always told him exactly how much to expect. Only a portion of her tips that Ricky didn’t count escaped detection.