Damned and Cursed (Book 6): Broken Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

living room, her own thoughts racing.   The front door was ten feet away.   It seemed so easy to simply run.   But she'd have to coordinate her children.   They'd have to be ready to move with her.
    The phone hung on the wall just inside the kitchen.   If she could simply make a five second call to the police station, or even Mary, her neighbor.   They could get help.
    "It won't work," Byron said.
    Janet glared at him.   "What?"
    He didn't bother looking up from the newspaper.   "I locked the front door, both locks.   Unless you're telepathic, which I've only met a few, by the time you put together the run plan with the little ones, ran to the door, unlocked it with shaking hands, I'd already be there.   The littlest one, Elizabeth, in case you wanted more detail.   She's the smallest and weakest.   One little twist of her finger, and you'd drop to your knees."
    Sarah shot to her feet.   "If you—"
    Byron jumped up as well, so fast Janet thought he was rushing to strike.   She held her ground.
    "Sit down!" he shouted, raising his voice for the first time.
    She hesitated before doing so, locking eyes with him.
    "And I've already cut the phone from the outside," he said.   "You can't call for help.   Even if help came…I'd kill them, too.   Their deaths would be on your hands."
    "Who…are you?"
    He smiled.   "I'm Byron.   Now, the best thing for you to do is sit there and be a nice, adorable little housewife.   Keep your mouth shut.   Keep your kids' mouths shut.   That's not that hard, is it?   And by the end of tonight, everything will be back to normal.   You'll be cooking ravioli and riding your husband."
    Janet tried her best to force her emotions aside.   The terror, the anger, the apprehension.   She needed to think .
    "How long have you been watching us?"   He finally looked up over the paper.   "You knew Sarah's name."
    "Holy shit," Byron said, arching an eyebrow.   "She can actually look at the world around her.   Not many of you people can."   He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.   "Long enough.   Long enough to know you pretty well.   Definitely long enough to know you've got a birthmark on your upper thigh."
    Her face turned red as she shifted uncomfortably.   "You don't know anything about me."
    He smirked.   "You love your family, you love being a housewife.   You love your mother, can't stand his father.   Sometimes you watch your girls play in the backyard, and you hate the fact they're growing up.   You're afraid they won't need you.   I'm guessing that's because when your father used to beat you, your mother did nothing, forcing you to grow up faster than children are meant to."
    Janet felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach.   Memories rushed back to her, memories she'd spent so long repressing and controlling.   Her father standing over her, whipping her over and over with his belt, all over a spilled drink at the dinner table.   Her mother sat not ten feet away, doing her best to pretend it wasn't happening.   Only one time during the beatings did mother and daughter's eyes meet.   Janet silently begged for help, for compassion, for anything.   The only thing her mother could offer was a quick frown before she turned away.
    "Ah," Byron said.   "That twitch, right there.   Ed doesn't know, does he?"
    She said nothing.   The kids ran back down the stairs, each with a few toys in their arms.   Sarah glanced back and forth between the adults, worry in her eyes.   Janet gave her a smile to suggest everything was okay, even though nothing was further from the truth.
    Byron leaned back in the chair.   "Don't worry, Janet.   If you behave, and keep your children behaving, by the end of the day, you can continue keeping secrets from your husband."
    Janet knew he was lying.   She was smart enough to know Byron would leave no witnesses, no survivors.   An opening would present itself.   Byron was obviously sharp, observant, but his eyes