Circle of Strangers (Dangerous Strangers Thrillers, #2)

by Minka Kent

Hard truths are always fun to deliver to those with little self-awareness. It tends to go over their heads, much like everything else, so you can get away with saying just about anything.

As Sozi rambles on, a thought flickers through my mind: maybe everyone here is hiding behind those gates, keeping something—or someone—out. Maybe I’m not the only one.

“Please tell me you had a TV-sitcom mom. Tell me she was funny and cheesy and baked cookies and took you to the park.” I sniff, contemplating how I’m going to answer this. It’s no one’s business—but it also isn’t often I meet someone who can remotely relate to what I went through. Without a decent therapist in my life anymore, it might be nice to have a sympathetic ear once in a while. Not that I need one.

I glance across the patio, past the thick stone walls and the locked gates, imagining a world beyond them that’s chaotic and out of control. A world full of danger. But in here, behind these gates, behind these walls, I get to control it. I get to make sure no one can get close enough to hurt my kids. To hurt me. To hurt Will.

I can’t recall the last time I had an actual friend. It might be nice. Keyword: might.

As I walk home under the golden glow of the afternoon, my shadow long against the pavement, I can’t help but ponder on this little circle of strangers, each of us with our own hidden worlds behind our locked gates, our own secrets we’re desperately trying to keep out.

I’ve always found those kind of men to be pathetic. A job won’t love you back or keep your bed warm.

It was then that I learned real monsters do all of their hiding in plain sight.