Twisted Innocence (Moonlighters Series Book 3) by Terri Blackstock Page A

this—which meant she might not either.
    She looked down at her feet. “I followed your parents when I was looking for you.”
    “You what?”
    “I didn’t know where you were. I thought they might lead me to you. Anyway, they went to a T-ball game. Was that for your nephew?”
    “Yeah, Brock. He’s five, really a blast. Loves his Uncle Creed. I was supposed to go to that game too.”
    “Your parents seem nice.”
    “They’re great. Best grandparents in the world. If they knew they had another grandbaby . . .”
    The thought made Holly look away. She stared out into the night. “Creed, you talk like it’s over for you, but it doesn’t have to be. Turn yourself in.”
    “You don’t get the drug trade, Holly. It’s a tangled mess, and it reaches everywhere. Even some of the cops are tied up in this.”
    She sighed. “If you let me go, my sisters and I can try to help you.”
    She didn’t know if she could keep that promise, but she would worry about that later.
    He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “I have no idea what to do. I need to sleep.”
    “Go ahead,” she said.
    He breathed a mirthless laugh. “I’m not stupid. You’d get away. I have to tie you up.”
    “Tie me up? No! Come on, Creed. I’ve cooperated with you.”
    “Just so I can sleep. Just until daylight.”
    When he raised the gun back to her head, she understood she had no choice. Was it true that he couldn’t pull the trigger and “blow her skull off,” as he said? She couldn’t count on it. He walked her to the bunk bed, made her lie down on the bottom bunk, and used plastic zip ties to secure her right hand to one end and her right foot to the other end. He made sure there was nothing around that she could reach, then he climbed onto the top bunk. In minutes, she heard his rhythmic breathing.
    Holly tried to wriggle her hand and foot free, but he’d bound them too tightly. The ties were already cutting off her circulation. Her foot was going to sleep.
    She thought of Lily crying for her mother. Was she distressed? Was Juliet able to calm her? She knew for sure her sister wouldn’t let Lily be upset for long.
    But the thought that her sisters would assume she was shirking her maternal responsibilities killed her. Why hadn’t she just come clean with them and told them about Creed? She could have used their help, and they wouldn’t have hadto rely on their imaginations to figure out what had happened to her.
    She lay on her back, looking at the bunk above her, and said a silent prayer for help. Only God could get her out of this now. She hoped he was paying attention.

CHAPTER 21
    L ying in the dark, Holly looked around the motor home. She wondered whose it was. If it belonged to Creed’s family, the police would have located it by now. There were a few personal touches—homemade curtains in the windows, a yellowed almanac in the pocket behind the driver’s seat, a coffeepot on the small counter. But no pictures, nothing personal.
    She dozed lightly off and on during the night, going rigid when she heard the sound of wind moving a branch against the motor home. Assuming Creed’s story was true—what if the drug dealers found them? Would they kill her along with Creed? What story would her family believe about why she was here with him? What would they ultimately tell Lily?
    When daylight finally came, she heard Creed stirring. He hung his legs over the side of the bunk above her and sat there for a moment, with only his feet in view. Then he slipped down to the floor.
    “Can I please go home now?” she asked.
    He didn’t answer. His hair was sleep-tousled, and his face looked paler than last night. “Are you hungry?”
    “Yes. I need to nurse, Creed. My daughter needs me.”
    “ Our daughter needs you.”
    She opened her mouth to protest but decided it wasn’t wise. “Then let me go to her.”
    He busied himself in the kitchen, pouring cereal. There was a small refrigerator under the