LITMIR.BIZ

      KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/

       To my husband, Spike, and my daughter, Pixie-Brat, who supported me while I wrote this book. To Lynn, for being my best friend, even if you live a billion miles away. To my parents, who always encouraged me to write.

       I love you all.

       Prologue

      It was a scene repeated many times over in her young life. Lilian couldn’t remember a time when John wasn’t hitting Jane, the woman she called Mama, but it’d never been this bad. She watched as it went on and on, screaming as John kicked Mama, as he yelled and cursed.

      It didn’t look like he would ever stop.

      She couldn’t take any more. The world seemed like it turned upside down and sideways, making her tummy ache. There was a buzzing in her ears, like hovering bees. She dragged herself to her feet, gaping at her stepfather and the now unrecognizable form of her mama on the floor of their home. All Lilian could see was the blood, the bright red splatter decorating the floor and the wall. She could hear the squelching noises made with each blow.

      The buzzing grew louder and louder until she covered her ears.

      Lilian took in his reddened face, blood stained suit, and watched as the monstrous expression turned to confusion. He’d noticed the objects around the room, circling the two of them.

      Vases, jewelry, pillows, her mother’s hairbrush, items no heavier than her parents’ bedside lamps, flew through the air, collided with one another, and smashed against the walls. She watched as they flew at John, striking him again and again.

      He turned and gawked at her in horror.

      “You freak. I knew something was wrong with you. Spawn of the devil!”

      Lilian was taken by an inner calm, unafraid. Even though tears dripped from her cheeks and ragged, uneven breaths tore at her lungs, it was like she was watching from the outside. Not part of the chaos happening in the room.

      Her stepfather grabbed his chest as his face twisted in a grimace. He gasped aloud, trying to breathe, but couldn’t. His skin went from red to white, and to a pale blue. Several moments later, he fell onto the floor, a horrified expression in his dulling eyes.

      Lilian looked back at him as he took his last breath.

      The moment he died, everything dropped to the floor and became still, silent. Her shaking hands fell to her sides and she bolted out of the room to her secret hiding place.

      What had she done?

      It took two days before anyone came to the house. Lilian, weak, exhausted, and hungry, heard the sirens approaching, which later became voices downstairs. There was the sound of mumbling in the distance, coming from below, but she remained hidden.

      The voices grew louder, clearer, and called her name. Curling up into a tighter ball, she pulled the blankets around her until hidden away, safely concealed.

      The voices went away, but returned some time later, accompanied by the sounds of moving objects.

      The closer they came, the more still and tense she became, like a baby deer hiding from hunters in the tall grass. She heard boxes shuffled and old trunks scraped across the wooden floor. The dresser was next, and soon her blankets were carefully pulled aside.

      “I found her!” a man called, and the sound of hurried movements followed.

      A hand touched her cheek, warm against her cold skin. She jerked back and opened her eyes.

      “She’s alive!”

      A collective cheer came from the rescue workers and her body jolted. Her heart raced, and her breathing became rapid and shallow.

      Everything went black.

       Chapter 1

      Hawk’s Point was known as a waypoint for hikers and campers who braved the Mount Rainier National Forest. It was a small town Lilian had wandered into a couple of years ago, and immediately fell in love with. It was perfect. No one knew about her past or her true identity. This was her chance to start over, live a simple life, away from the larger cities. Seattle, especially.

      The residents of her new home recognized her as Lilian Quinn and accepted her as a welcomed member of their tight knit community. Regardless if everyone knew what skeletons lurked in their neighbors’ closets, they didn’t know her secrets.

      She found a job working at the local diner, which paid little, but she didn’t need to be rich. As long as it paid her bills and there was a little extra, she was happy.

      Taking orders from a few of the tables outside, she heard the loud rumbling roar of motorcycles. Dishes and glasses rattled on the tables. Lilian glanced up to see a small gang of about ten bikers riding by. She spotted one of the members as they passed. With his mirrored sunglasses, she couldn’t see much other than a masculine face and black hair long enough to hang mid way down his back in a ponytail.

      She chuckled to herself and bent to hear the customer’s order, scribbling onto a small notepad, as their engines cut out. From the distance of the sound, Lilian assumed they had parked at the Motel 6. A few of the customers, however, kept their eyes on the strangers, and conversations shifted to the activities of the gang members.

      Going about her duties, she heard from the lunch crowd what the bikers were doing; getting off their bikes, gathering around and stretching, which resulted in various debates over why. She smiled faintly in amusement at the patron’s musings, went inside to turn in the orders and pick up plates from the hot table to deliver. It took her a few minutes, as she served the tables and filled glasses, before heading back outside.

      A wave of nausea and a sense of trepidation hit her as she stepped onto the terrace, causing her to pause and survey the area. As Lilian scanned the patio, she saw the two men seated at the far table, in dark suits and sunglasses. While sunglasses were par for the course on such a beautiful day in Hawk’s Point, suits were not.

      The men sat themselves in such a way one could face and watch customers and servers moving about the alfresco area, the other faced out to the street to watch the coming and going of passersby.

      Lilian knew they were trouble, but for whom? If they were here for her, she couldn’t run. She had to continue as if nothing was wrong.

      After delivering food, she picked up two menus and a pitcher of ice water. Pasting on a smile, she approached the table. “Good afternoon.” She set their menus down and poured water into their glasses. “Can I get you anything to drink besides water? Iced tea or soda?”

      “Lilian Powell?” He kept his tone soft, but still meant business.

      Lilian shook her head. “I’m sorry, my last name is Quinn. Wrong girl.” She tapped the menus on the table. “I’ll be back to take your order in a few.”

      Before they could say anything else, she walked away, checking on the other diners and refilling water glasses until she made it back inside, hurrying into the kitchen to escape the prying eyes of the two strangers .

      “What’s the matter, chica?” Maria tossed a basket of onion rings into the fryer.

      Maria was one of her closest friends,

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