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A SINGLE FATHER DETERMINED to save his son. A teenage boy who doesn’t think he needs saving. A damaged woman afraid to risk her heart. And a tiny package that could destroy them all.
Aiden pushed the door open and froze.
The place had been tossed.
Garrison grabbed his son’s arm to pull him back out, but it was too late.
A pistol pressed against Aiden’s temple. A dark hand, an arm. A man came from behind the door and lifted his finger to his lips.
Garrison wanted to shout, to warn Sam. But he didn’t dare.
The man yanked Aiden, who stumbled into the room and nearly tripped over a lamp lying broken on the hardwood. The man gestured for Garrison to follow.
He took in the space. A huge bald man stood beside the television set, a pistol aimed at Garrison.
There were two figures on the couch, their backs to him so he only saw the tops of their heads. By the way they were sitting, still and facing forward, Garrison assumed they, too, were captives.
Captives. Garrison and Aiden had, somehow, in the time it takes to unlock the door and step inside, become captives.
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