Perry's knuckles cracked across his mouth. He felt no pain, only numbness.

"Sloan," screamed Bree.

Suddenly Franki shouted, "And our mothers knew too?"

Perry stared at Sloan for a moment, his fist poised for another blow. Sloan braced for it, but it never came. Perry turned around, apparently still eager to boast of his accomplishments. He addressed Franki like he might address a convention of accountants.

"I don't believe they knew at the outset, but they figured it out eventually. A couple of them even guessed the truth of their husband's deaths, but they kept quiet to protect their children. It's amazing what a parent will do if their children's lives are threatened."

So that was why Lydia and Marie kept quiet. Perry had threatened to hurt Bree and Franki. Lydia would have done anything to protect her daughter. And Marie...well, Marie pretty much did as she was told.

"You're leaving something out," rasped Troy as Sloan leaned against the ropes again.

In two strides Perry crossed to his brother. Troy's breathing was labored, and the simple effort of holding his head up to meet his captor's eyes seemed to demand every last morsel of energy that he possessed.

As fast as the flash of a snake's tongue, Perry's hand whipped out and grabbed Troy by the hair. He wrenched his head back and glowered into Troy's eyes. "I don't want to hear any of your speeches, Troy. I've been listening to your self-righteous bullshit for twenty years, and twenty years is way too long.

I thought a bullet in the shoulder would shut you up. If it won't I'll just find another way."

Troy's Adam's apple bobbed. "They deserve the truth. You owe them that much."

"I owe them nothing. I owe you nothing. Except maybe a bullet in the gut, and a slow painful death."

"Perry!" screamed Bree. "Why? Why do you hate him so much? Why do you hate all of us so much?"

Perry let go of Troy's hair and whirled on Bree. "Because you wouldn't let me in!" Perry raked his fingers through his hair. His eyes were fierce with a rage that Sloan could barely comprehend. There was a mindlessness-an insanity-about it that made Sloan's skin crawl.

"In?" cried Bree. "What on Earth does that mean? In where?"

Perry advanced on her, and Sloan's stomach clenched. But Perry stopped just short of Bree's toes.

"Into your circle. Into your fun. Into your lives!"

Bree just gaped at him, mirroring Sloan's own disbelief.

"You never wanted anything to do with us," whispered Bree. "You acted like you were too good for us. You always made fun of our fishing and camping trips. You said the stuff we did was stupid. This doesn't make sense!"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Beg you to include me? Grovel like a pathetic, whiny little brother? You guys had each other. You were such good friends it made me sick. Sick with jealousy. I wanted friends too. But I was always the geek. The nerd. The dweeb. So guess who I ended up with for a friend?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Derek. Derek the super-dweeb."

"You shut up," screamed Franki. "You're not fit to lick Derek's shoes."

Suddenly he whirled on her. "And you."

"What about me," she sneered.

"You were the worst. You treated me like fly shit."

"What? What are you talking about?"

But his response was to kneel down and sneak a hand up her arm.

She didn't flinch. Merely watched those pudgy fingers trace her arm with a detached sort of fascination.

"You acted like rejecting me was some sort of hobby." His hand reached her shoulder. "You had to know how much I wanted you, and you snubbed me at every turn."

"Y-you never even asked me out," she sputtered.

"Yes I did. Through Derek. And you always turned me down." His fingers touched her throat and Sloan saw a shudder pass through her. "Little Miss I'll-sleep-with-anybody, Little Miss Whore-of-the-world, and you wouldn't let me touch you. Was I really so ugly? Was I really so repulsive?"

Her lips trembled, and the color slowly drained from her face. "No. No, of course not. I...I just..."

"You just couldn't bear to be near me." He cupped the back of her head. "Well you don't have a choice, now, do you?"

She just blinked at him. And the expression on her face tore at Sloan's soul. The sassy, independent, slightly arrogant Franki Waters was so paralyzed by disbelief and fear that she made no move to defend herself. She didn't move away when Perry's head lowered and his lizard-like lips connected with hers.

Sloan looked on helplessly as the kiss lingered and Perry's lascivious hand lowered to Franki's shoulder. And then to her breast. Even then she didn't resist. She allowed it, and Sloan felt like his head was about to explode.

At last Perry pulled away and gazed at Franki, apparently as surprised by her uncharacteristic acquiescence as Sloan. His lips quirked into a smile. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Sloan waited for the scathing retort, but it never came. Instead Franki blinked slowly and whispered. "No. No, it wasn't. I haven't been kissed like that in a long time."

Sloan's mouth went dry. And Franki continued. "I never knew how you felt, Perry. Derek never passed along your messages. I had no idea you were..." She smiled like a coquette, and at last Sloan understood. "Interested," she finished. "He's so protective. He probably thought he was protecting me from you. If he had told me, I might have...considered it."

Perry, blinded by infatuation and lust, practically panted. "Really?" His hand cupped her breast and he sidled in a little closer. "You would have gone out with me?" Franki rubbed herself against his hand, and Sloan felt the bile rise in his throat. But he stayed quiet. "I'm sure I would have," she purred. "You have a powerful aura, Perry. And I like powerful men." Perry plunged his hand into the neckline of her T-shirt. "I wish I had known, Franki. Things could have been so...different. They could have been so good."

Franki's eyes flew wide, but she didn't break her stride. "Mmm," she groaned in apparent ecstasy. "They still can be. It's not too late, Perry. It's not..." The sound of tearing fabric startled her into silence. Perry had ripped her shirt open down the middle, exposing her bra and pale, shivering flesh. He continued fondling her, massaging her breast with all the finesse of a sixteen-year-old virgin. "How about now, Franki? You wanna come upstairs with me? Maybe to that big king-size bed in the master suite." His hand whisked down across her stomach and slipped between her thighs. Franki did nothing to stop him. In fact she parted her legs slightly to encourage him.

Sloan looked away and met Bree's eyes. There were tears in those emerald depths, but she too understood. They couldn't intervene. This might be their only shot. If Franki could lure him into releasing her, her sacrifices would be well worth it.

"Sure," murmured Franki, no doubt thankful that she still wore her jeans instead of her usual miniskirt.

"That..." She sucked in her breath. "That would be wonderful."

"You want me to carry you up the stairs and throw you on the bed and fuck you until you scream for more?"

Franki nodded, but Sloan caught a glimmer of something akin to disgust in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, her voice pleading. "Right now. Please."

"But I guess I'd have to untie you first, wouldn't I."

Alarm bells began to ring in Sloan's head. But too late. Franki nodded, and Perry's hand snapped up to latch around her throat. He rammed her head backagainst the pole with an audible thwack.

Franki groaned, and her eyes rolled back for a moment.

Three voices simultaneously yelled her name, but Perry ignored them.

"You stupid bitch! Did you actually think I'd fall for that? How dumb do you think I am?"

He tightened his grip on her throat, and she struggled against it.

Sloan and Bree screamed at him to stop. Even Troy's strangled efforts mingled with the cacophony. But

it merely seemed to feed Perry's fury. "Quiet or I'll snap her neck like a twig!"

They all snapped their mouths shut, and Perry's grip loosened. Marginally.

Franki's eyes fluttered. "I had to try," she rasped.

"Stupid bitch." He squeezed. Hard enough that Sloan could see his thumbs cutting into Franki's flesh.

He held it long enough for the color to seep out of Franki's face. Then, abruptly he relaxed his grip.

Franki coughed reflexively.

But Perry's hand tightened again. And again. "You're going to suffer. All of you are. It was good to see

the three of you cry and moan when your parents died. Your misery was such a sweet bonus to the deal. It made it all worthwhile. But this is going to be even sweeter. For once you'll feel pain like I did all those years."

Finally he let go and Bree thought the torture was over, but then, without warning, he drew back his arm and backhanded Franki across the mouth.

Again, three voices screamed out in protest, but this time Troy's was the loudest of them all.

"Stop it, Perry! For once in your life listen to me."

Perry had drawn back his hand, ready for another pass. "Like hell, I will."

"You left out the best part," continued Troy in between snatches of breath. "You forgot to tell them about me."

Perry's hand slowly lowered. "That's right." He left Franki, whose lip had split and was trickling blood down her chin. He crossed to Troy. "That's right. I want your friends to know your true colors before they die."

Troy sucked in a painful breath. It just about killed Sloan to watch him. And it just about killed him to know that, even though Troy obviously had his reasons, he had betrayed his friends. And, in so doing, himself.

"I don't have any excuses, and if I had it to do over I'd probably do it again. Do you want me to tell them?" "No." He paused, seemed to consider something. "No. I'll do it." He reached behind his back and pulled out the handgun he had used to kill his father. He pushed the muzzle into Troy's stomach. "I'll make the story nice and long, so they can listen..." Perry cocked his head and finished, "while you're dying."

He fired.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

"Wow," breathed Craig.

Derek nodded. "Yeah. Wow."

"It must've really been something in its heyday."

"Yeah."

Craig's eyes continued to wander over the brickwork, arches and deeply set windows, the endless gables and tasteful gingerbread. A single stone chimney lorded over the entire structure like a knight watching over his manor. "The Elliott place is big and impressive, but this...this..." "Yeah," said Derek again, the tone of his voice communicating more than words. "It has a romantic feel about it. A kind of nobility." "Yeah." Craig rolled his eyes, but Derek's next words caught him completely off guard. "You have a real way with words, Sternberg. You should go into writing or something." Craig grinned. "You're okay, Waters."

Derek grinned back. "Yeah. So're you."

Craig shifted from one leg to the other, but it didn't ease the fatigue that had already begun to seep into him. "Let's go inside. I need to sit down, and I wanna give this place a good once-over."

Derek looked around, as if afraid that Sloan might jump out from behind a bush and threaten his manhood. "Okay." They strode to the front door, and to Craig's surprise, found it to be unlocked. Actually, it was slightly ajar, the latch not quite engaged.

"They must have forgotten to lock up last night," offered Derek. "Mmm." Feeling a strange sense of unease, Craig pushed through into the wide front hallway. He glanced around and took in the elegant lines and bold beauty that hid beneath the carnage. "Looks like they didn't get too far with their cleaning job." "I think there was a lot to do. It's a big place."

"Yeah," quipped Craig. But Derek didn't even glance at him.

"If you wanna sit down, we should go into the library. It's the most comfortable room in the house."

Craig nodded, and followed Derek's lead down a long hallway.

Their feet padded quietly across the maple. The house was so quiet. Oppressively so. The enormous

rooms seemed to swallow up sound. They had almost reached the point where the hall flared out into two larger rooms, one of which Craig assumed was the library, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Derek stopped and scrutinized him. "What?"

"Shh."

Craig strained his ears, trying to penetrate the thick blanket of silence. He had heard something. Just at the edge of his awareness, but he could swear it had been a human voice.