Coming Home (The Surrender Trilogy 3)

“Parker, go wait in the car.”

“Are you insane?” Parker hissed.

“Better do as she says . . . Parker. ”

“I’m not leaving you here. You have about one minute before I’m the least of your problems so I

suggest you talk.”

Damien sat up, his hand going to his waist. “What’s going on, Scout? Who’s in the limo?”

“No one. No one who wants any trouble. Look, Damien, please just tell me if you’ve seen Pearl and

we’ll leave. If I’m not out of here within a minute, you’ll have company I know you don’t want. Just

tell me what I paid you for and we’ll go.”

His bloodshot eyes narrowed. He seemed to be weighing his options. Unwanted company led to

gunshots, which led to the police, which led to trouble for everyone. “A’ight. She was here first thing this morning. Bought her usual shit and left, just like you and boy wonder are gonna do right now.”

She nodded, a thousand knives tearing at her heart. There went her mother’s sobriety.

They left the house just as Lucian was getting out of the limo. She drew in a breath of fresh air that

was hardly fresh. Everything around that place smelled of decay.

She quickly walked to the limo.

“Did you find out anything?”

“She bought heroin this morning. That means she’s not far. If I know my mom, she went to the first

dark corner she could find to get high.”

The three of them turned and looked at the three-story Victorian. She was most likely in there.

Evelyn suddenly couldn’t move. All of her life she’d had this despicable vision of finding her

mother dead. Each time she knew Pearl had gotten high she feared it would be that moment come to

life.

Chances were they’d find her all doped up, she wouldn’t recognize any of them, and they’d be

carrying her like a screaming banshee out of there. But the little girl in her, the one who many times

tried and failed to wake her doped-up mom, feared that wasn’t the worst they could find.

Dugan appeared and handed Lucian a gun. Fuck, things were getting out of hand. “I’ll go look for

her and come get you if I find her,” she said.

Lucian nodded at Dugan in some sort of code. She looked up as Dugan’s large shadow blocked the

sun. The chauffeur stepped close. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.”

She squinted at him. “What?” He grabbed her and she jerked, unsure why he was suddenly

restraining her, but his grip was too strong.

Lucian turned to her. “Parker and I will go in while you wait here.”

“What? No! I’m going in. It’s my mother.” He was already walking away. “Dugan, let go of me!”

“It’s for your own safety, Ms. Keats.” He dragged her to the limo and she struggled as he shoved

and shut her inside. Her fingers jammed against the handle as the safety locks engaged. She smacked

her palms against the glass and screamed. “Let me out!”

There were dangerous, rotted places in the house that wouldn’t hold the weight of two grown men.

Parker wouldn’t know where those spots were hidden because he never went in there.

She abandoned the door, scurried across the carpeted floor, and climbed over the front seat. Her

fingers shook as she found the main controls and unlocked the door, wrenching it open. Dugan cursed

and grabbed her. His fingers bit into her arms and tears rushed to her eyes.

“You don’t understand! I have to go with them!”

“I’m sorry,” was all he said as he refused to let her go.

She struggled, urgent concern choking her. “Please, Dugan. He could get hurt. They could both get

hurt.”

“I’m sure they’ll be back in a few minutes. Why don’t you get back in the car?”

She nodded in defeat and turned to face the building. The cracked foundation and hollow windows

were weathered beyond repair. Drawing in a deep breath, she winced, fully admitting to herself she

was crazy, turned, and slammed her knee in Dugan’s groin.

He buckled like she predicted and released her arm. “I’m sorry,” she called over her shoulder.

As she raced into the building, the chauffeur wheezed her name. Her feet kept moving. The stench

just inside the door was rancid. Her eyes adjusted to the sooty darkness. Floors that hadn’t seen the

light of day in years were covered with a slippery layer of dust marked with footprints.

Trash littered the perimeter, and floorboards whined under her weight. Moving quickly, knowing

just where to put her feet from force of long habit, she listened for where Lucian might be.

A thick banister lined the broken steps. Peeking in the large rooms on the first floor, junkies lazed

here and there, mostly stoned out of their minds and uncaring of her presence. She didn’t see Lucian

or Parker, which meant they’d likely already searched those rooms for Pearl.

Taking the stairs, she carefully placed her steps. At the top, she knew to avoid a soft patch of floor.

Remnants from a demolition that had started long ago and never completed were piled in the middle