Breaking Creed Read Online Free Page B

did you find her?”
    “She was hiding under a trailer on my property. Someone had taken her from her home and dumped her. She was hurt and hungry.”
    He watched their faces and realized what they were thinking. Grace wasn’t much different from them.
    Then the oldest girl said, “I bet she was scared, too.”
    Creed nodded. “Yup, she was very scared. She wasn’t sure who to trust. But she’s not scared now. You all can pet her if you go slow and if you’re gentle.”
    He stood in place, waiting for the kids to decide on their own to come to him.
    The littlest boy, who had noticed Grace first, came forward slowly and offered his dirty hand for Grace to sniff. She immediately licked his fingers and the boy giggled.
    “That tickles.”
    Suddenly Creed and Grace were surrounded, all five children taking turns, remembering to be gentle and letting Grace sniff, then lick. Smiles and giggles, even a laugh.
    Creed looked over at Bailey and the guardsmen. They still kept their distance and continued to stare at the macabre scene, all of them in awe as one Jack Russell terrier transported these scared and bruised victims back to being kids.

5
    ATLANTA, GEORGIA
    A MANDA STARED at the television screen as she clutched her stomach. Another luxury hotel. A gorgeous room on the fifteenth floor. Who needed a television in the bathroom? This room was larger than her bedroom at home. It was pristine white, the tiled floor wonderfully cool to the touch. Moments ago she had laid her curled body—fetal-position tight—on the smooth surface, her hot and sweaty cheek flat against the floor. She wished she could stay there forever, but again, the cramps jolted her. That, and Zapata pulling at her, insisting she get up and use the toilet.
    “It is time,” the old woman coaxed Amanda, a whispered calm so uncharacteristic that Amanda could hear the strain in Zapata’s voice even as she tried to hide her impatience.
    “I hurt so bad,” Amanda said, while her eyes stayed on the television screen and yet another guest was introduced on The View . “It didn’t hurt like this the last time.”
    She didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to say it out loud, but Amanda worried that one of the balloons had burst inside her. What had happened to Lucía . . . what if it was happening to her, too? Would Leandro slice open her belly before she was even dead? She couldn’t stop seeing the girl slumped on the floor. She couldn’t stop thinking about the knife in Leandro’s hand. There had been no hesitation. And all that blood. Amanda had never seen anything like it.
    “She was a weak girl,” Zapata said suddenly, as if she could hear Amanda’s thoughts. “You must not think about her. You are strong. Much stronger.”
    The unexpected compliment pulled Amanda’s attention away from the television to find the old woman’s eyes. They were black stones—cold and hard, which reminded Amanda of the tiled floor, but unlike the tiles, there was absolutely nothing soothing or comforting in Zapata’s eyes.
    The old woman held out the drinking glass in her hand, offering it to Amanda as though it were a gift. Amanda had already drunk half a glass of the chalky liquid that she knew was a laxative.
    She shook her head. “I’ll puke if I drink any more of that crap.”
    Then she saw the flash of anger in the old woman’s eyes—brief and electric, but shockingly powerful—before Zapata realized her mistake and stashed the anger back behind the cold stones.
    “Where’s Leandro?” Amanda wanted to know.
    The last time, he had been there with her, stroking her back, caressing her sweat-drenched hair away from her face. His whispers had been gentle and sincere as he encouraged and praised her.
    “He has other matters to attend to.”
    Like getting rid of Lucía’s slashed body.
    But again, Amanda didn’t say it out loud. Instead, she bit her lower lip and wrapped her arms tighter around her body as the pain continued to twist her insides into