Janet had the suspicion he already knew.
"Janet."
"Okay, Janet.
Let's be clear on what's happening here.
You and your family are in trouble.
Your lives are in danger.
From me.
If you want to live through the day, the first thing you have to remember is…don't ever touch me again."
The back of Janet's head and neck broke out into a cold sweat at Byron's words.
He spoke evenly, succinctly, and she didn't doubt a word he said.
A tear ran down her cheek, but she refused to collapse and cry.
"I'm going to be your house guest," Byron continued.
"We'll eat some food, sit at the table, just relax until old Ed gets home.
Then he and I will have a talk."
"What do you want with my husband?"
"He stole something from me, and I'd like it back."
"Ed's never stolen anything in his life."
Byron laughed heartily, then stared into Janet's eyes.
He looked her up and down, and she felt violated as he took her in.
But there was no lust in his gaze.
"You really believe that, don't you?" he said.
"Come now, he obviously stole something.
Your heart, and your virginity."
Janet's mouth hung open as she stared at Byron in disbelief.
A million questions ran through her.
How could he know?
Certainly Ed didn't discuss their intimacy with their friends, much less this horrible man in her living room.
But he was right.
They were each others' firsts.
"Hey, you want to live in a box, that's your business," Byron said.
"I don't care.
I can see from the nice, blank stare that you really have no idea what I'm looking for.
But let's look anyway, shall we?"
Byron gestured toward the stairs, and waited.
Janet understood, and took the lead.
Rash ideas flashed through her mind as they walked up the stairs.
She could throw her weight backwards, knocking him down.
She could attack with all the fury in her, rip at his eyes, tear and bite.
The sound of Elizabeth cleaning in her room kept her ideas from becoming reality.
She wouldn't risk anything happening to them if she failed.
"Where are we going?"
"To your bedroom."
She trembled as she held her breath.
Byron noticed and laughed shortly.
"Don't get your hopes up," he said.
"You're not my type."
He grabbed her shoulder as they passed Elizabeth and Sarah's room.
Elizabeth had put most of her toys away, but played with a horse in the middle of the floor.
"Hey, kid, get up off your ass and come here."
"No," Janet said, stopping just shy of grabbing Byron's arm.
"Please, whatever you're doing, leave her out of it."
Byron ignored her.
"Come on, kid—"
Janet invaded Byron's personal space, stepping toward him and stopping just an inch short from his face.
An anger she'd never felt rose up within her, pushing the fear aside.
"If you hurt my family—"
"Oh, this should be good," Byron said, taking a step back.
He grinned and rubbed his hands together.
"Lay it on me.
What will you do?"
Her eyes never left his.
"I'll kill you."
Janet was surprised at the simple fact that she meant what she said.
Silence followed as Byron regarded her.
He blinked and raised an eyebrow.
"That's it?
That's all you've got?"
"I'm not joking—"
"I give that a three out of ten.
The tone was there, and you had a nice look in your eye, but that's it.
Sorry, but I'm not scared, Janet.
You just have to go a little deeper than that.
Let me give it a shot.
Did you know your children have ten fingers and toes, two ears and eyes?
But they don't
need
any of them to live.
If you don't stay in line, I'll take those little body parts, piece by piece, and leave them bleeding and crying in the corner.
I'll make you watch.
Your kids will be tiny, bloody stumps, just sitting there.
Is that what you want?"
Tears streamed down her face as her lip quivered.
Her fists opened and closed.
She wanted to lash out, kill Byron for simply entertaining the thought of hurting her children.
But she could do nothing.
At least not yet.
"Mommy?" Elizabeth said.
"Are you okay?"
Elizabeth took a ginger step toward them from the middle of the room.
Byron held up his hand to stop her.
"Hold on there, kid."
He lifted Janet's chin with his finger and looked her in the eye.
"All of this is in your hands.
I don't
want
to kill anyone.
Not because I have a conscience, but because it involves spending money, bribes, hiding evidence.
But if you don't do exactly what I say, this entire house will be a bloodbath."
Janet said nothing as she composed herself.
She didn't believe a word Byron said.
He would kill her and her family.
She had to think clearly, be patient.
"What did you say to my Mommy?" Elizabeth asked.
"Nothing.
Just that time of the month, I guess."
He looked down at the child.
"You'll go through it soon.
Hormones, bitchy moods, bleeding all over the place."
"Mommy," Elizabeth said.
She walked to her mother and grabbed her hand.
"What's he talking about?
I don't want to bleed."
"You won't, sweetie.
Just ignore him.
He's trying to tell jokes."
"He's not very funny."
Byron shoved Janet just hard enough to get her moving.
He trailed behind the two of them, Elizabeth holding her mother's hand.
"Kids," he said.
"Like dealing with a wild animal that can talk.
Ridiculous."
Janet turned into her bedroom.
The bed was still a mess, where not long ago Ed held her in his arms as they made love.
Through the bedroom window she caught a glimpse of Sarah and Mark still running through the yard.
She was thankful for the small miracle that Sarah was safe.
Did Byron even know about her?
If she stayed outside until lunchtime, maybe Ed would come home to eat, and he could clear up whatever case of mistaken identity was happening.
Sarah wouldn't even know.
She prayed for that outcome, for her family to be safe.
"Okay, ladies," Byron said, pushing Janet once again.
"If you would just sit in the corner over there."
Janet moved slowly, her daughter next to her, looking over her shoulder at Byron.
They'd barely made it halfway across the room when Byron pulled out a dresser drawer and turned it over, emptying bras and underwear onto the floor.
He dropped the drawer carelessly, and it landed on the carpet with a thud.
Elizabeth jumped in surprise.
Janet pulled her close.
"There's nothing—"
"Nice panties," Byron said, scooping a random pair up with a finger.
"Is this the style Ed peeled off you last night?"
Janet had no words.
Humiliation crept in with her terror.
Byron watched Janet and her husband in their most private moments the night before.
How?
Through the window?
How long had he been spying on them?
Byron tried to pull out another drawer.
It got stuck, and he violently shook the dresser from side to side until it worked free.
Items on the dresser fell to the floor, and the display of anger and force made Elizabeth cling closer to her mother.
"Mommy, what's he doing?"
"What are you looking for?" Janet asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Please—"
She jumped as well as he flung another empty drawer across the room.
It crashed into the wall, leaving a hole where the corner struck it.
Elizabeth cried freely and hugged her mother's leg.
Janet could do nothing.
"Your clothes are a joke," Byron said.
"Do you actually go outside in this shit?"
He raided the closet next.
He tossed their clothes behind him and searched every corner.
Elizabeth bawled, and Janet dropped to one knee to hold her.
The youngest daughter trembled as sobs racked her little body.
"It going to be okay," Janet said.
"Don't be scared, sweetie.
I'm right here."
Byron shook his head as he studied the mess he made.
Their bedroom was in shambles.
A few holes were in the walls, clothes scattered everywhere.
He'd emptied the nightstands and flipped them on their sides.
He even pulled the mattress off the frame and haphazardly threw it on the floor.
"Is that what being a parent is all about?
Lying to the little shits?
Hey, Elizabeth."
The child looked at Byron through a hand over her eyes.
He leaned down to speak directly to her.
"It might
not
be okay.
You might live until you're one-hundred, or you might die today.
No one really knows, certainly not your Mommy—"
"Don't talk to my daughter," Janet said, turning Elizabeth away.
"You just deal with me."
"Hey, that hurts," he said, sneering.
"I was going to finish it off with some really cliche shit, like
So live life to the fullest now
, or something like that.
But hey, whatever, if you want to be so negative, that's on you."
Byron clasped his hands together and stood upright, searching around him.
"Well, looks like it's not here."
"What?!" Janet snapped.
"What do you want?"
"A nap would be nice.
Let's go check the kids' room."
"No, please.
Don't go in there.
Leave that room alone."
Byron gestured for the door.
When Janet didn't move, he forcefully grabbed her by the wrist.
"Like that room is clean now," he said sarcastically.
"Destroying that room would probably improve it.
Get moving."
Elizabeth had seen enough of a man other than her father touching and grabbing her mother.
She stepped forward from behind Janet and punched Byron in the stomach, and followed her attack with a kick in the shin.
"Stop touching my Mom!"
"Elizabeth, don't!"
Janet grabbed her daughter and forced her to step behind her.
She looked into Byron's eyes, fearing his reaction.
His gaze was dark, angry, but a playful smile danced on his lips.
"I'm impressed," he said, speaking directly to Elizabeth.
"That's good.
You have to fight for what's yours, kid.
But you have to be careful about getting pulled into a fight you can't win.
Your mom understands that, which is why she's behaving, and you have to do the same thing."
He leaned down and stared at her.
Elizabeth didn't back away an inch.
"If you do that again, I'll cut off your pinky.
Got it?"
Byron followed them back into the hall.
They walked the few feet to the girls' bedroom, and were ready to step inside when there was a noise downstairs.
Janet recognized the sound of the sliding glass door in the kitchen opening and closing, and her heart sank when the quick, energetic footsteps made their way across the first floor.
"Mom!" Sarah shouted.
"Where are you?
Is it okay if me and Mark get our bikes and—"
She stopped talking when she made it to the bottom of the stairs.
She looked up at her mother, and a slow frown of confusion spread across her face.
"Mom?"
She pointed at Byron.
"Who is that?"
"Well, if it isn't spawn number two," Byron said.
"And it's Mark and I."
He cast a sideways glance at Janet.
"What kind of idiots are you raising?"
"It's okay, honey," Janet said, wiping at her eyes.
"Just go outside and play."
"No, no," Byron said, wagging his finger.
"The ladies of the house are all together now.
Playtime is over."
"She can go outside," Janet said.
"She won't do anything."