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

chairs.   The sight made Janet sick.   "I doubt she'll try anything."
    Her hands shook as she turned her back on them.   She moved slowly, deliberately, trying to think of anything to do.   She grabbed several plates from the cupboard and the bread from the corner of the counter.
    "Is grape jelly okay?" she asked.
    "Is there any other kind?"
    "Well, there's strawberry."
    "That's just gross."   He addressed the girls.   "You two don't eat strawberry jelly, do you?   That's nasty.   That's nastier than what your parents do at night."
    She whirled to glare at him.   He met her glare with an unconcerned smirk.
    "I don't like strawberry jelly," Elizabeth announced, her face scrunching up in disgust.   "I tried it once.   It was all stringy and icky."
    "Smart kid," Byron said.   He looked in Sarah's direction.   "What about you over there, sunshine?   Grape jelly?"
    Sarah folded her arms across her chest.   "I'm not talking to you."
    Byron laughed shortly.   "Also very smart."   He looked back to Janet.   "Well?   What are you waiting for?   Sandwiches don't make themselves."
    She turned back to the counter and went to work.   A tear escaped as she felt her options dwindling.   She was surrounded by makeshift weapons.   The rolling pin near the stove, the cutting board to her right, the knife in the drawer, just inches below her hand.   They were all useless, as long as he was in between her children.
    As she spread peanut butter across the first piece of bread, a shadow crossed the counter.   Janet froze in place.   She'd experienced that shadow so many times, on so many weekends.   It would interrupt their breakfast, lunch, and dinner, all hours of the day.
    Mark, Sarah's new little best friend, was just outside.
    Closing her eyes, she listened behind her for any sign that either Byron or her daughters were aware of their visitor.   No one said a word.   The girls typically didn't notice whenever Mark peeked in through the sliding glass door.   They were too busy arguing or speed-eating their meal.   Janet prayed silently that they would continue to be oblivious.
    Maybe Mark could save their lives.
    She turned casually, still holding the butter knife in her hand.   No one stood at the back door.   Still, she knew he was there, where he always was, two feet to the left of the glass, just out of view.   He would peer into their home again any second, looking to see when Sarah would come back outside.
    "What does everyone want to drink?" she asked, forcing her voice to stay even.   "Iced tea, water, lemonade?"
    "I'm not thirsty," Sarah huffed.
    "Could I have some iced tea, Mom?" Elizabeth asked.
    "Aww," Byron taunted.   "So well-mannered.   Fix me up some tea, Janet."
    Janet finished one sandwich and set it on a plate.   Moving to the fridge, the shadow once again invaded the kitchen before disappearing.   She could almost see it in her mind.   Mark would stand at the glass door, making a shield around his eyes to steal a look.   Then he'd dive to the side, embarrassed to admit he was waiting for his friend.
    How could Janet get a message to him without Byron knowing?
    "Are you okay over there?" Byron asked.
    Janet scoffed as she poured a glass of iced tea.
    "Like you care about how we're doing."
    "You're right.   I don't.   I care more about the dog shit I nearly stepped in on my way here this morning.   But…there is one thing I do care about, and it's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.   I figure by the time you make it, I might actually die of old age.   You want to move your ass over there?"
    "I'm going as fast as I can."
    She set a plate and cup in front of Elizabeth, and tried to give her youngest daughter a comforting smile.   Byron merely stared at her, a sly, almost condescending smile on his lips.   Janet risked a quick glance over his shoulder, toward the sliding door.   She saw nothing, but guessed Mark was still there, out of sight.
    Her hands shook as she made a second