Colt’s caring concern brought tears to her eyes, and she leaned against him, desperately needing his comforting voice and arms.
She slid her hands up his torso and rubbed slow circles across his chest. His breath hitched slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against him.
“I just want my son back,” she whispered.
“I know, and we will get him back.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead and the tears began to slip down her cheeks. But he didn’t push for more. Instead, he held her and let her vent her emotions until she finally sighed and wiped at her face.
Then she tilted her head back and looked into his eyes. He’d driven all night and looked tired, but compassion and concern and other emotions she didn’t understand registered on his face, as if fatigue never slowed him down. With one thumb, he swept her hair away from her forehead. His lips parted, the whisper of his breath brushed her face.
“Serena?”
“Please kiss me, Colt. Make the pain go away for a while.”
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To Billie Jo Case: friend, reviewer, fan…
Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling to kids for romance, and now she writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers, so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her website at www.ritaherron.com.
Serena Stover —She thought losing her husband was bad, but now someone has framed her for murder and kidnapped her son. The only person who believes her is the handsome detective Colt Mason; but she can’t lose her heart again….
Detective Colt Mason —He is determined to save Serena’s son, and will do anything to track down the culprit, even if it means exposing her dead husband’s dirty little secrets.
Parker Stover —Serena’s husband was an undercover agent working on a drug bust. Was he dirty, or had he stumbled on a bigger case that got him killed?
Petey Stover —All Petey wants is to go home and have his family back. But his kidnapper is not out for ransom money—so what does he want with Petey?
Lyle Rice —Serena finally accepted a date with the man, but now she is accused of his murder. Is he really dead or is his murder an elaborate ruse to disguise his real motives?
James Ladden —The ex-con was one of Rice’s cellmates; did he abduct Petey?
Detective Geoff Harbison —Parker’s former partner left the force shortly after Parker’s murder. Was it coincidence or does Harbison have secrets of his own?
Dasha Miller —Serena believes this street girl had an affair with her husband. Does Dasha know the real truth behind her husband’s murder and who kidnapped her son?
Hogan Rouse —The hit man who killed Parker claims he murdered the man for money, and may hold the key to Petey’s abduction. But the tough, cold prisoner is not talking….
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
“Mister, will you get my mommy out of jail?”
Colt Mason glanced up from his desk at Guardian Angel Investigations and stared at the dark-haired little boy, surprised at his request.
He was probably what, five or six years old?
“I don’t gots a lot of money,” the boy said, then hoisted the piggy bank he held in his arms onto Colt’s desk. The change inside clanged and rattled as he shoved it toward Colt. “But you can have it all if you’ll help me.”
Colt grimaced. The last thing he wanted was the boy’s savings.
Besides, the kid’s eyes were red and swollen from crying, and he was breathing hard as if he’d been running.
Where had he been running from?
“Why don’t you sit down, son, and let me get you some water. Then you can tell me who you are and what’s going on.”
The boy slid into a chair, his shoulders hunched. Colt stepped from his office into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, brought it back and handed it to him.
The kid’s big brown eyes studied Colt warily, but he took the water, unscrewed the lid then took a long drink. Finally he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed. “My name is Petey Stover. My mommy said people here help kids. And she’s in trouble so I come here.” Petey pointed to the nameplate on Colt’s desk. “You gots the name of a gun.”
“Yeah, I do.” Colt fought a small smile. “Now, tell me what happened, Petey. How did your mother end up in jail?”
Worry tightened Petey’s bowlike mouth. “Last night my mommy had a date with this man named Mr. Lyle. But he pushed Mommy against the fireplace, and then he grabbed her neck.” Petey gulped and Colt noticed his hands shake. “I didn’t like him hurting her.”
Cole clenched his jaw. “I wouldn’t like that either. What happened next?”
“She stomped on his foot and kicked him in the…you know—” he pointed to his private parts “—where it hurts.”
Colt barely resisted a smile. “Yes, I know. Then what?”
“I tried to pull him away ’cause now Daddy’s gone I’m the man of the house.” Another deep breath and he squared his small shoulders as if to prove he was a man. “But he knocked me down on the floor.”
Anger made Colt grip the chair edge. “He hit you?”
Petey nodded. “Then my mommy got the fire poker and yelled at him to leave.”
Colt narrowed his eyes. “Did your mother hit him with the fire poker?”
“No.” Petey took another swig of water. “She acted like she would though ’cause she was scared. Then the man got mad and said she’d be sorry.”
Colt wouldn’t have blamed the woman if she had killed the bastard. “What did he do then?”
“He gives her a mean look but he left.” Petey sighed. “So Mommy and I wents to bed. But this morning when I was eatin’ cereal, the sheriff came and he said Mommy killed that mean Mr. Lyle, and they taked Mommy away. And this lady with big orange hair took me to kid jail.”
Colt’s head was reeling. “Kid jail?”
Petey pointed toward the door. “To that big spooky house down the street.”
Ah, Magnolia Manor, the orphanage. DFAC had obviously gotten involved.
“But I runned away when they went in for lunch, cause I don’t wanna stay in jail, and Mommy shouldn’t be there either.” He squared his little shoulders. “Jail is for bad people, and my mommy is good. She didn’t kill nobody.”
Colt took a moment to process the situation. “Where’s your father, Petey?”
Petey looked down at his hands where they clenched the water bottle. “He was a policeman, but he got shot and he died.”
Poor boy. And now his mother had been arrested.
Petey’s chin quivered as he looked back up at Colt. “Will you get her out, Mr. Colt?”
Colt stood. He didn’t know if the woman was innocent or guilty but he wanted more details on the matter. “Let me talk to her and we’ll see.”
Petey jumped off the chair. “Then let’s go.”
Colt knelt beside the boy. He wasn’t a babysitter. Hell, he didn’t know much about kids at all.
In fact, he’d screwed up bad when he’d been left in charge of his own brother….
But how could he refuse this little boy? “Petey, I’m sorry, bud, but the sheriff won’t allow children in the jail. One of my friends will stay with you here while I talk to your mom. All right?”
“You won’t send me back to kid jail?” Petey touched his arm, his voice pleading.
Colt winced. Petey’s hands were tiny, just like the rest of him. Yet he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He’d been fifteen when he’d lost his own dad and he’d felt that weight on his shoulders. A few months later, he’d failed and lost his brother, too.
Petey was nowhere near that age. Still, he couldn’t lie to the child. He would have to call Magnolia Manor sooner or later. “Let me talk to your mom and then we’ll make a plan.”
Petey nodded, his trusting acceptance sending a streak of guilt through Colt. Still, he went to get Derrick. Derrick could phone Brianna at the manor and smooth things over. She must be frantic.
He hurried to Gage’s office, pausing at Derrick’s to ask him to join them.
“What’s going on?” Gage asked.
“This little boy just came into my office asking for my help. His name is Petey Stover.”
Gage switched on the TV in the corner. “His mother was arrested. It’s all over the news.”
Colt watched as the special news story aired.
“This morning, Serena Stover, wife of former police officer Parker Stover of the Raleigh Police Department, was arrested for the murder of a man named Lyle Rice. Rice was supposedly killed at his home, but police have yet to recover the body. However, evidence quickly led the sheriff to Serena Stover’s door.”
The camera zeroed in on Sheriff Gray handcuffing and escorting an attractive woman with long, curly, copper-colored hair from her home. She was arguing and protesting, trying to break free to reach her little boy.
Petey was crying and kicking and shouting, determined to wrestle away from the deputy who was hauling him toward another vehicle. A woman Colt assumed to be the social worker was trying to soothe the boy, to no avail.
The camera panned back to Serena as the sheriff pushed her into the back of his squad car. Tears streaked her big eyes as she turned and watched her son beating on the window, screaming her name.
Colt’s gut clenched.
“As you can see,” the reporter continued, “the arrest quickly became an emotional scene. However, the sheriff feels he has sufficient evidence and motive to move forward.”
The camera panned back inside to focus on the crime scene. Massive amounts of blood stained the bedroom floor, and the sheets were blood splattered, one corner dragging the floor. A crime scene tech lifted the corner to reveal more blood.
In fact, Serena’s name had been spelled in blood on the wood floor.
“Police believe that Rice scribbled his killer’s name in his own blood before he died,” the news reporter continued. “More on this story as it develops…”
“That’s not good,” Gage said.
“If Serena killed Rice and got rid of the body, why wouldn’t she have cleaned up?” Colt asked with a frown. “Besides, she sure as hell wouldn’t have left her name there for the police to finger her.”
“Maybe she was in a hurry and didn’t see it,” Gage suggested. “The name was covered by the sheet.”
Colt shrugged, questions nagging at him.
“Petey was taken to Magnolia Manor, Derrick,” Colt said. “Will you let Brianna know he’s here and safe?”
Derrick nodded. “She’s probably frantic. I’ll call her right now.” Derrick stepped from the office to make the call.
Gage drummed his fingers on the desk. “This isn’t our usual kind of case.”
“I know,” Colt said. But something about the poor kid and that emotional scene had gotten to him. “The boy is so upset, though. And his story made sense. I’d like to at least talk to the woman.”
Gage hesitated, then gave a nod. “All right. But be careful. And don’t make an enemy of the sheriff. So far, he’s cooperated with us on other cases. I’d like to keep it that way.”
Colt agreed and headed back to Petey. He’d be civil to Sheriff Gray, but if he thought the man was wrong about Serena, he wouldn’t hesitate to rattle some cages.
There was no way he’d sit by and let him railroad a single mother away from her child if she was innocent.
SERENA STARED at the ink on her fingertips, still stunned that she had been arrested, fingerprinted and was locked in a cell.
Not that it was the first time. But she’d thought her juvenile record was sealed.
She had to get out. The first chance she had, she’d make a break for it. Then she’d find Petey and get him and run.
What kind of life would that be for him, Serena? Hiding out, always making up new names, always afraid…
No, she couldn’t do that to her son.
Poor little Petey. He’d been through so much the last two years. His father’s murder. Their move to Sanctuary because she’d wanted a nice small town where they could both heal. And they both had started to heal.
Then her friend from work had encouraged her to start dating. A huge mistake.
Lyle Rice had been a charmer at first, then turned into a snake. When the arrogant animal had pushed Petey, she had wanted to kill him.
But she hadn’t, dammit.
And she couldn’t run either. She’d given up that life when she’d married Parker. She’d vowed to give Petey a more stable life than she’d had….
Footsteps pounded, the shadow of movement in the hall indicating the sheriff or his deputy had returned. She’d requested her phone call, but the truth was, she didn’t even know the name of a good lawyer to call.
Of course, the state would give her a public defender, but she’d had one of those before and that had ended with her in a juvenile facility.
Suddenly the sheriff appeared, along with a broad-shouldered man with hair as black as coal and eyes just as black. He looked powerful, lethal even, with a strong, square jaw and arms that were as big as her legs.
Definitely an alpha guy who was accustomed to being in control. And judging from his short haircut, muscular physique, that laser-intense look and the tattoo on his arm, he was former military.
Either that or a hardened criminal.
Her stomach pitched. Surely, the sheriff wasn’t going to lock him in the cell with her.
“Ms. Stover,” Sheriff Gray said. “You have a visitor.”
Serena crossed her arms, confused. Frightened. Wary.
Who was this man and what did he want with her?
Remembering her husband’s horror stories about how devious police interrogation tactics could be, she braced herself. She had to be careful.
He might be here to trap her into giving a confession.
Serena adopted a brave face. “Who are you?”
“My name is Colt Mason. I’m a detective with GAI, Guardian Angel Investigations.”
Serena frowned, confused even more. “I don’t understand. Why do you want to talk to me?”
“It’s about your son, Petey,” Colt said gruffly.
Serena’s mouth went dry, the room swirled around her, and she reached for the bars to steady herself to keep from passing out. Today had been too much, and if something had happened to Petey…
The sound of the cell opening registered, the men murmuring something indiscernible in low voices. Colt gripped her arm and led her to the cot by the wall. Her legs buckled, and she sank onto it, then leaned over, the room spinning in a dizzying circle.
“It’s all right. Take a deep breath, Serena,” Colt said in a low voice. “Then another.”
His soothing tone brought a flood of tears. Angrily she brushed at them and inhaled, determined to regain control. She had to know what had happened to her son. But when she tried to speak, nausea rose to her throat.
The sheriff returned, then Colt pressed a cold cloth against the back of her neck.
Dammit. She needed to be strong. But she’d lost Parker. She couldn’t lose Petey. And that blasted woman had promised to take care of him.
Clawing for control, she jerked her head up, removed the cloth from her neck and tossed it aside. Colt Mason was staring at her with those intense black eyes again as if he was trying to see into her mind and soul. Maybe even her heart.
She wouldn’t let anyone there, not ever again.
Besides, he was probably trying to judge whether she was a killer.
“Where’s my son?” She clutched his shirt. “Is he hurt?”
“Petey is fine,” Colt said. “He’s at my office.”
“What? I thought that social worker took him to a foster home.”
Colt covered her hands with his and peeled her fingers loose. “She dropped him off at Magnolia Manor, but as soon as the children went inside for lunch, he bolted and ran down to GAI. Apparently you told him that some nice men there helped children.”
Relief mushroomed inside Serena, and she found herself hanging on to his hands. Caution told her not to trust him, but the fact that she had used those exact words with Petey made her relax slightly.
“You have fifteen minutes,” Sheriff Gray interjected.
Colt nodded to the sheriff, and he strode back to the front of the jail.
“He must be so scared,” she whispered. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
“I’m certain.” Colt hesitated, an awkward second passing as he released her hands. “Do you feel better now?”
She nodded, searching his strong face for the truth. This man looked hard, cold, forceful, as if he’d seen the worst in humans and was trying to figure out where she stood on the pendulum, if he should be protecting her son from her. That suspicious look cut through her like a knife. “You scared me to death. When you said GAI, I thought…”
“That he’d been kidnapped,” Colt said darkly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Petey is in my office. One of the other agents, Derrick McKinney, is staying with him. His wife, Brianna, works at Magnolia Manor where the social worker took Petey.”
“So you’ll send him back there?”
“We have to follow the law, but Brianna is a great lady,” Colt said. “She has a son of her own, and loves those kids. Trust me, she’ll be like a second mother to him.”
He obviously meant to make her feel better, but rage churned through Serena at the thought of anyone else taking care of her son.
“Petey should be with me.” She scanned her bleak surroundings. Concrete floor, dingy concrete wall covered in graffiti. Scratchy, faded wool blanket on top of a cot with a mattress so thin the springs bore into her. “And I shouldn’t be here. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Colt’s gaze scrutinized her. “Petey told me a little bit about what happened,” Colt said. “But I’d like to hear your version.”
Serena hesitated, doubts creeping in. “Do you have some ID?”
His eyebrow shot up in question, but he removed his wallet and flashed his GAI badge. So he was really a private investigator. “If you’re worried that I’m working for the sheriff, I’m not. Your son hired me.”
Her gaze latched with his. “Petey hired you?”
A smile quirked at his mouth. “Yes, he offered me all the money in his piggy bank.”
Fresh pain and love squeezed her heart. “I’ll pay you,” she said firmly. “You’re not taking Petey’s money.”
His jaw hardened. “I never said I’d accept it.”
She frowned at his curt tone. He almost sounded offended. “It’s just that…I feel bad for my son. Ever since my husband died, Petey thinks he has to be man of the house.”
A pained look crossed Colt’s face. “A big job for a little guy.”
“Exactly.” Her voice cracked. “He doesn’t deserve this right now. He’s been through so much already….”
Colt cleared his throat. “Then let’s see if we can clear up this matter, and get you home with him. Now, tell me what happened last night.”
Serena chewed on her bottom lip. Lord help her. She hated Parker for dying. And she hated feeling helpless, as if she was failing her son.
Even worse, she hated to give her trust to a stranger. After all, Parker’s murder had taught her not to trust anyone.
COLT STUDIED Serena Stover, his nerves on edge. He understood her wariness to trust. If little Petey was telling the truth, it sounded as if Lyle Rice was a bastard and had probably deserved his fate.
But kids lied to protect their mothers all the time. What if she had used that fire poker on the man? Or what if he’d come back after Petey went to bed, and they’d fought? She could argue self-defense.
Unless she had gone after the man with the intent to kill him…
But everything about this woman, from her delicate bone structure to her wild curly hair to those mesmerizing terror-stricken eyes, screamed that she was a victim.
“Serena?” he asked.
She worried her bottom lip for another moment, then inhaled a deep breath. “Like I said before, Petey’s father died a couple of years ago. He was a cop, shot in the line of duty.”
He didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but simply nodded, silently urging her to continue.
“I…haven’t dated since he died.” She picked at a loose thread on that scraggly blanket. “I didn’t want to. I was grieving.”
“But you decided to go out with this man Lyle?”
She nodded, regret wrenching her face. “The worst mistake of my life.”
He let that comment simmer for a moment. “Go on.”
She lifted her gaze to his, tears swimming in the crystal orbs.
God, that hurt look sucker punched him and made him want to yank her in his arms and comfort her. Made him want to promise her he’d make everything right.
But that wasn’t a promise he was sure he could keep.
“Serena, I’m not judging you for dating. That’s human, normal.”
She sighed, then glanced away, and he realized she had judged herself. That she felt guilty, as if she was cheating on her husband when he was dead and never coming back. She must have loved him deeply.
“Anyway, Lyle and I only went out a couple of times,” she said softly. “First coffee. Then a movie. But last night we had dinner, and I sensed something was different, that he was ready to take things to the next level.”
“You mean sex?”
A blush crept onto her cheeks, then a sliver of fear darkened her eyes. “Yes.”
“But you weren’t ready?”
She shook her head. “No. Not at all.” She swallowed, then licked her lips, making him uncomfortably aware that she was sensuous and fragile and a woman.
“Anyway, when he brought me home, he came in for a drink, which I never should have allowed,” she added beneath her breath. “Then he came on to me. I told him right away that it wasn’t going to work between us and asked him to leave.”
Colt didn’t like the images forming in his mind. “But he didn’t?”
She twisted that ratty blanket in her hands, fidgeting. “No, he got angry, then pushy. I asked him to leave again, but he refused to accept my rejection, and he pushed me against the fireplace.”
She paused, her breath coming faster. “Then Petey came in, and…” Emotion thickened her voice. “Petey tried to pull him away from me, but he threw him to the floor.”
Her hands knotted into fists around the blanket. “So I grabbed the fire poker and ordered him to get out.”
“Then he left without a fight? You two didn’t struggle?”
“No, but I did knee him in the groin. Then he did leave.” She ran a hand through her hair. “But he was seething and before he went out the door, he warned me I’d be sorry, that I had no idea who I was messing with.”
She dropped her head into her hands. “God, I am sorry, but not that I told him to leave. I’m sorry I ever met the man.”
So far her story matched Petey’s.
Colt gripped the cot edge to keep from drawing her up against him. Her fragile body was trembling, her lip turning blue where she kept worrying it with her teeth.
“What happened after he left?”
She shifted restlessly, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. “Petey was upset, so I cuddled him for a while and lay down with him until he fell asleep. This morning we were having breakfast when the sheriff knocked on the door.” She waved her hand. “Then they tore Petey away from me and arrested me….”
“Lyle didn’t come back during the night? Maybe he broke in and attacked you—”
“No,” Serena said firmly. “He didn’t come back, I didn’t fight with him, and I didn’t go to his place. In fact, I’ve never been to his house.” Her voice grew stronger. “And I would never leave Petey alone. Never.”
Colt frowned. “Do you have proof, someone who can alibi you?”
“Petey, but he was asleep.”
“Did you make or receive any phone calls during the night? Were you on the computer?”
“No, I fell asleep beside Petey, then woke up around four and went to my bed.”
Damn. A typical single mother routine, but not much for an alibi.
Colt tapped his foot, thinking. “Did the sheriff mention the evidence he has against you? How he knew you were involved with Rice?”
Serena’s forehead puckered. “No.”
“How about the cause or time of death?”
She shook her head. “No, he hasn’t told me anything.”
A situation he would rectify.
“Tell me more about Rice. What did he do for a living? How did you two meet?”
Serena heaved a breath. “He told me he was an entrepreneur, that he had investments in small companies. I run a bookkeeping business out of my home, and one of my clients gave him my name as a reference in case he needed my services.”
He definitely needed more background information on Rice. “Have you phoned a lawyer yet?”
A sense of despair seemed to wash over her. “No. I haven’t had a chance to call.” Her voice cracked again. “Besides, I don’t know who to call. I’ve never needed a criminal attorney before.” She swung her gaze toward the cell door. “I can’t believe I need one now.”
Colt gave up the battle to keep his distance, and tugged her hands into his. “Listen to me, Serena. I know a good lawyer. I’ll put in a call to her.”
The sheriff’s footsteps echoed down the hall, and Colt stood. “Hang in there. I’ll call my friend about arranging your bail. And I’m going to question the sheriff and find out more about Rice’s murder.”
Sheriff Gray appeared at the door, keys jangling as he motioned to Colt.
Serena rose and gripped his arm. “Please, Colt. Tell Petey I love him. And don’t let him end up in the system. I grew up there myself. It’s not pretty.”
He’d been a cop long enough to know what could happen, too. But the law was the law, and his hands were tied.
Petey was going back to Magnolia Manor.
SERENA PACED the jail cell, the tiny space closing around her. The nauseating scent of old sweat, urine and dirt wafted around her, nearly suffocating her.
She felt trapped. Panicky. And worried sick about her son.
Colt Mason’s face flashed into her mind, and a sliver of something frightening stirred in her belly. He had a strong, prominent jaw that seemed permanently set in anger. That crooked nose, the scar on his forehead and his black, intense eyes gave him a menacing look.
But she’d heard a tenderness in his voice when he’d mentioned Petey. And if he worked with GAI—and she had seen his badge as proof—then he had to answer to his boss and the other agents, meaning he had to be legitimate.
His questions about Lyle also roused her own questions. What would the sheriff tell him about her case? Sheriff Gray had to have some kind of evidence to hold her. But what kind of evidence could he possibly have against her?
Her shoulders and body ached with fatigue and tension, and she collapsed onto the cot, sick at the thought of having to spend the night in the cell.
At the thought of Petey sleeping in a foster home or orphanage where God knew what could happen to him.
He was so little, so young. He wouldn’t know how to protect himself against the bullies or the street-savvy kids. And he didn’t have enough strength to protect himself if one of the caretakers assaulted him.
Memories of one foster father in particular taunted her, and she automatically rubbed at the scar below her breastbone.
His wife…she’d been just as bad. A religious fanatic who’d sacrificed Serena to her husband in order to save herself from his vile touches. God’s will, the woman had said.
But God never meant for a man to do the things that man had done to her. God never meant for people to hurt children.
Tears threatened again, but she willed them away and let her mind go to that safe place where she’d retreated as a child. Where nothing could hurt her. Not the evil touches of those who pretended to care for children, not their hateful words or degrading comments or their beatings.
She was not that little girl anymore. She was strong. She had found love once. She had a son, and she would die protecting him.
Suddenly exhausted, she lay back on the cot and closed her eyes. But just as she was about to fall asleep, the image of Lyle Rice’s face materialized. Then her foster father.
Except this time he and Lyle were teaming up, and they were both chasing Petey…
She jerked up, shaking all over, a chill skating up her spine.
Please, Colt, help me. And please hurry…
PETEY ROCKED back and forth in the big chair, his legs dangling. Mr. Colt had been gone a long time.
He kept staring at the door, hoping he’d come in any minute.
Hoping his mommy would be with him and she’d take him home. And this horrible day would be over.
Mr. Colt’s friend Mr. Derrick set a drawing pad and some crayons on the coffee table. “Wanna draw while we wait on Colt to get back?”
He stared at the crayons and paper for a minute. He was a pretty good drawer. But he didn’t feel like drawing. His stomach was growling and jumping up and down, he was so hungry.
Maybe he should have broken out of jail after that mac and cheese.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.