Alyssa "Congratulations, Alyssa. I hope you and Isaac are very happy together," Mom says, her voice tender with emotion as she pulls me into a tight embrace. "Thanks, Mom." I return the hug, firm yet gentle, afraid that if I let her go too soon, she might fall. She's too sick to be standing this long, but she's always been strong—stubborn to a fault. She'd never let anyone here see how unwell she really is. When I finally release her, Gray, my ever-watchful brother, steps in, taking her arm to help her into a chair. "Grayson, I can seat myself," she protests, a teasing defiance in her eyes as she throws him a mock glare. He smiles warmly. "I know you can, Mom," he murmurs, planting a k**s to her forehead before turning to me. His expression darkens slightly. "If your husband ever hurts you, I'll shove my foot so far up his @ss he’ll taste it." By the tone in his voice, I know he means every word. But he doesn’t need to worry about that. I laugh, leaning in to k**s his cheek. "No need to be so scary, big brother. Isaac would never hurt me. He loves me too much," I say with confidence, my heart swelling with affection for my high school sweetheart turned husband. Despite the challenges we've faced, I know he’s my soulmate. He’s proven his love for me over and over again. When he asked me to marry him at Senior Prom, I was the happiest woman alive. And now, here we are, husband and wife. I've officially claimed the title—Mrs. Isaac Carter. As the time to leave for our honeymoon in Cancun approaches, I say goodbye to our guests. Most of MoonShadow Creek showed up, but honestly, I only cared that my mom, Gray, and my two best friends, Chelsea and Ashley, were here. "Have a great time!" Chelsea says, squeezing me tightly. She always smells sweet, like berries. I assume it’s whatever shampoo she uses to keep her blonde hair looking so perfect, but it could just be her personality—vibrant, sugary, effortlessly bright. I hug Ashley next, her hazelnut skin glowing beneath the bright lights. "Make sure you send me some pics. I need to get a boo before next summer so we can go on a group vacation," she quips, her excitement contagious. "Will do," I promise with a laugh, already looking forward to sharing the memories of our honeymoon with my best friends. Seeing that Isaac is still saying goodbye to his parents, I step outside for a moment of solitude, inhaling the cool night air. The stars twinkle above, casting a magical glow over what has been a perfect wedding day. I lean against Isaac’s car, taking it all in. Then, movement in my peripheral catches my attention. A girl stumbles out from behind the bushes, hurriedly smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair. "Hey, Alyssa," she says breathlessly, cheeks flushed, before rushing back into the house. A second later, a guy follows—lazily zipping up his slacks. King Sterling. One of my brother's three best friends. He’s tall, built like a brawler, with dark, unruly curls that fall to his shoulders and a medium beard framing his sharp jaw. A scar cuts across his left eye, a reminder of the violence he thrives in. His amber eyes—piercing, predatory—have a way of sending even the bravest men running. And the fact that he’s in a motorcycle gang? Just the icing on the cake. When his gaze locks onto mine, a slow smirk stretches across his face. I grimace. "You couldn't have taken her home first?" I ask, making no effort to hide the disgust in my tone. Seriously, why does he have to scr'w people in the bushes at my Dam wedding? "That's no fun. Besides, I would've missed the hilarious look on your face right now," he teases, his deep, gravelly voice laced with amusement. He steps closer, leaning casually against the car before taking a slow drag of his cigarette. "Want a puff?" he asks, holding it out to me. I cough and wave it away. "No, that's disgusting," I retort. "You shouldn't be smoking those things anyway. You're gonna end up with cancer, dumbass." King exhales a cloud of smoke, then chuckles, low and rough. The sound sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Always holier than thou,” he muses. “Tell me, Alyssa…has he popped your cherry yet, or are you still ripe for the taking?" Heat floods my cheeks. My embarrassment only makes his smirk widen. "N-No,” I stammer. “I know you wouldn’t know anything about that, but Isaac’s actually a gentleman and he wanted to wait until we were married first.” King tilts his head, his smirk turning downright wicked. “Well, isn’t he Mr. Prince Charming?” His voice drips with mockery. “When he can’t get you off with his little di'ck, I give you permission to fantasize about me instead.” "Thanks, but no thanks. That would only make me throw up," I snap back. He, Nikolai, and Mason have been an unwanted part of my life since I was twelve. Unbeknownst to my brother, his best friends have spent years tormenting me behind his back. But high school? That was the worst. I was a freshman, and they were seniors, always towering over me, always finding any possible opportunity to make my life hll. The only reason they’re here now is because Gray insisted. According to him, they’re family and deserve to be treated as such. But I hate them. All of them. King just grins at my reaction, clearly enjoying himself. "When shift doesn't work out between you and Isaac, just know you can call me anytime.” I glare at him, my anger flaring. "Why wouldn't things work out? I love my husband, and he loves me." The rest, we can figure out as we go. King takes another puff, exhaling slowly. "I don't know. Something's just off about him. But if Gray approves, I guess we should too." I snort. "Says the violent man in a motorcycle gang. If anyone's off, it's you." King is the kind of man that gets off on bloodshed. Beating someone's @ss or cutting out an eyeball with a switchblade is his idea of a good time. In Gray's gang—The Crimson Reapers—King is known as the Enforcer. I'm pretty sure he has more bodies than a serial killer, but since they keep our small town safe, nobody dares to say a word about the crimes they commit. King just chuckles. "Nah, Kitten, I'm violent because I have to be. Your pathetic-@ss husband seeks out trouble.” What the hll does that mean? I wonder, but I decide to leave it alone. This is my wedding night, and I won't let him, or anyone else, ruin it. "What's wrong, Kitten? Am I getting you riled up?" he taunts. I turn away, willing myself to stay calm. He knows I hate that fking nickname, but he hasn't stopped using it since he realized it got under my skin. "I told you to stop calling me that," I mutter, trying to keep my voice steady. "And I told you that I’d never stop calling you that." I grind my teeth, irritation burning in my chest. "You're such a di'ck. Why is that my nickname anyway?" He shrugs. "Because you always have your claws out, but when it's time to scratch and bite, you're practically harmless." A bitter laugh bubbles from my l**s. "fk you. I could claw your Dam eyes if I wanted to." "Sure, you can, Kitten.” His smirk widens. "But just in case those claws don't sink deep enough…you can always call on me, Niko, and Mace if you're in trouble." Why does he keep saying that? I don't need them. I never have. Not even when my dad was murdered. I’ve always had my own back, wiped my own tears—and that won’t ever change. No matter what. Before I can snap at him again, a new voice cuts in. "He's right, Sweet Girl. You can call us if you ever need us," Nikolai says, emerging from the house. Mason follows close behind. Oh, great. All three dumbasses are here.

Alyssa Niko isn't as big of an аs hole as King, but he still makes it his mission to piss me off. He's a little smaller and less muscular than King, with spiky, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. Mason, on the other hand, is of medium height with a slender frame. He's a redhead with tapered hair, green eyes, and thick-rimmed glasses. Out of the three, he’s probably the chillest, never wanting to get his hands dirty. But just because he’s associated with them, it’s only fair that I hate him too. I roll my eyes. "Fantastic, just what I needed—the full set of my brother's annoying-@ss friends." Niko chuckles, his voice laced with amusement. "So mean for no reason, Alyssa. We're just looking out for you, sis." "If you were looking out for me, you wouldn't be tormenting me all the Dam time," I retort, crossing my arms as I glare at them. King takes another drag of his cigarette, his intense stare never leaving me. "It's our way of showing affection, Kitten. You know you love it." No. I. Don't. Niko throws an arm over my shoulder, and I stiffen at the unwelcome contact. "Like I said, I'm good. Nobody needs to worry about me, especially Gray. Isaac is my husband. He will take care of me.” "Are you ready to go, Alyssa?" Isaac's voice cuts through the tension as he strides across the lawn toward us. Relief washes over me. Finally, he's here to rescue me from my tormentors. His gaze shifts between the three men surrounding me, a shadow crossing his face when he notices Niko's arm casually draped over my shoulder. "What are you guys doing out here with my wife? Get your fking hands off her!" His voice is loud and humiliating, drawing the attention of the few remaining guests outside. I quickly create distance between me and the boys, rushing over to Isaac and placing a calming hand on his chest. "It's okay, Isaac. They were just saying goodbye," I whisper, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalates further. I can already tell he's had too much to drink. His breath reeks of alcohol, and his eyes have that hard, unfocused look. fk. He’s going to start a fight. "Do you want my friends and family to think you're a wh0re?” Isaac snarls, his voice venomous. "Get in the fking car before you embarrass me more!” Shame washes over me, thick and suffocating, even though I know I did nothing wrong. My heart sinks, and a lump forms in my throat. I don’t want to fight on our wedding night. I just want to go back to the happiness we were having minutes ago. "But what about everyone seeing us off?" I ask in a tiny voice, my eyes flickering back to my mother’s house where our guests are still celebrating. "I'm too pissed off for that. We're leaving. Now.” His tone is sharp, leaving no room for argument. He grabs my arm, his fingers digging painfully into my skin, and I wince. It's okay, he's just drunk. This isn't my Isaac, I tell myself. But when I glance up at King, Niko, and Mason, their expressions have darkened—tensed into something deadly. King’s perpetual smirk is gone, replaced by a look that could kill. Even Mason, usually unbothered, has a jagged edge to his posture. Niko steps forward, his eyes flashing. "Alyssa, I don't think we’re okay letting you leave with him,” Niko says, his voice dangerously low. “For him to think it's okay to speak to you that way…I think King and I should break his godаm jaw." Oh, no. "Who the fk are you to tell my wife who she can't leave with? Stay in your godаm place, freak," Isaac seethes, yanking me towards the car. "Be careful how you fking speak to him," King warns, his voice eerily calm. Isaac snorts. “Or what?” Okay. The alcohol has clearly given him a false sense of confidence. Too Dam much of it. With King alone, he wouldn’t stand a chance. King takes a step forward, towering over my husband like a shadow of death. At 6’2” and pure muscle, he makes Isaac look like a scrawny child. And I hate to say that about my own husband. "Or I'll have you eating out of a tube for the next six months.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. I quickly step between them, pressing a hand against Isaac’s chest. “Isaac, please stop. Not on our wedding night,” I beg, tears welling in my eyes. The tension is palpable, thickening the once-peaceful air around us. Is he really going to keep pushing this? Does he not realize that if my brother comes outside and sees this, he’ll join them in beating his @ss? Isaac's face twists in rage and humiliation. "Are you really taking their side right now?" he yells, his voice slicing through the night. "She's actually trying to stop you from getting your @ss beat, dude," Mace finally speaks, irritation flaring in his usually calm voice. His forest green eyes burn with restrained anger. "I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her!" Isaac roars, redirecting his fury toward me. I don’t flinch. Instead, I lock eyes with him, desperate to reach the man I know is somewhere hidden beneath this raging monster. "Please, can we just go?" My voice trembles, betraying my fear. His nostrils flare as he glares down at me. "Fine. But I don't want to ever see you near these аs holes again. Understood?" I nod quickly, eager to calm him before he spirals further out of control. This reminds me of the Championship football game our junior year, where he got into a huge fight with the other team's captain. But this time, the stakes are higher. King and Niko will kill him, while Mason watches. The last thing I want today is to watch my husband die right in front of me. "Let's go," I murmur, pulling Isaac towards the car. I don’t look back, but I can feel their eyes burning into me as I slide into the passenger seat. Even when we drive off, Isaac speeding recklessly through the streets, I keep my head down, staring at my trembling hands. The silence in the car is suffocating, heavy with unspoken rage and tension. At a stoplight, I finally look up—just in time to see Isaac’s hand collide with my cheek. The sharp sting makes me gasp. "Don't ever do something like that again!” he snarls in my face. “You made me look weak out there. I could've taken those fu'ckers easily.” A quiet, desperate sob escapes me. He...hit me. He actually hit me. And on our wedding night. I consider jumping right out of the car. But then, the scene replays in my head. It was my fault. I know how possessive Isaac can be. I shouldn't have been out there with my brother's friends, even if it was unintentional. The moment I saw King, I should've gone back inside. "I-I'm sorry, Isaac," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the engine. "You should be," he answers calmly, his breathing steadying. "I didn't mean to hit you, but if we're going to make this marriage work, you have to stop making me angry, okay?" I nod, my cheek throbbing. "Okay." I mean…I want to make our marriage work. My father was a dangerous man, but my mom was still happy. Still in love. That’s what I want. A happy marriage. I pushed Isaac over the edge tonight. But from now on, I'll do better—I’ll be more careful. Then, everything will be okay. Isaac extends his hand, and even though my face still stings, I place mine in his. His grip is firm, possessive. "I love you," he murmurs. "I love you too," I respond, forcing a smile. But little did I know his kind of love would break me bit by bit until there was nothing left.

Three years later Alyssa "Open this fking door, Alyssa!" Isaac’s furious voice echoes through the house as he pounds on the bedroom door, each blow rattling the hinges. My heart hammers against my ribs as I scoop Zuri from her crib, slipping a tiny pair of noise-canceling headphones over her delicate ears. "Mommy's going to get us out of here, sweetheart. Just hold on," I whisper, my voice trembling as I press my cheek to hers, drawing comfort from her warmth. I warned him. I warned him that if he ever hit me in front of our daughter, it would be over. But he didn’t listen. Tonight, he hit me so hard that I almost fell on top of Zuri while she was sitting on the floor. That was the last fking straw. I’ve endured his rage, his fists, his endless excuses for three years. But I won’t allow Zuri to grow up thinking this is okay. She’s only seven months old—too young to remember this night—but I will not let her first memories include watching her father raise his hand at me. I'm sorry, babe. I promise it will never happen again. I brought you some flowers, Tylenol, and an ice pack. I love you. What will our daughter think if you take her away from her father who loves her? If you leave me, there's nowhere you can hide that I won’t find you. I swear, I'll kill all of us. I'm so tired of the empty apologies. The love bombing. The cycle of violence and remorse, over and over and fking over again. Zuri deserves better. I deserve better. Isaac continues to slam his fists into the door, the sound splitting through the room like a gunshot. "I swear to God, Alyssa. Open this godаm door, or I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week!" His voice rises, his hits hard, angrier. I hear the wood splinter, the lock g******g under his assault. I have seconds. My pulse drums in my ear as I sling a diaper bag over my shoulder—the only bag I packed, stuffed with everything Isaac didn’t buy me. With one final glance at the door, I yank the window open. The house is only one story. The drop isn’t far. Clutching Zuri tightly to my chest, I climb out and run. I sprint across the yard, moving so fast my feet barely t***h the ground. The spare key in my pocket feels like a lead weight as I round the corner, heading straight for my car. I fumble with the key, my hands trembling, shoving it into the lock. Yanking the door open, I climb in the front seat, locking the door behind me. I frantically scramble to the back seat, strapping Zuri into her car seat. Her hazel eyes blink up at me, filled with innocent wonder—completely unaware of the danger closing in on us. "I'm sorry to wake you, my sweet girl. We're going to go visit Uncle Gray for a little while," I whisper, forcing a shaky smile as I make sure her buckles are secure. None of my family or friends know about Zuri. They don't even know I was ever pregnant. I haven’t spoken to anyone since she was born. Isaac made sure of that—isolating me from everyone I loved, drilling into my head that I was nothing without him. And maybe I'm not. But I promise to whoever created this fked up world—if I make it out of here alive tonight, I will be better. I will be the mother Zuri deserves. I slide back into the driver’s seat, my hands still shaking as I shove the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life. A sudden, bloody fist slams against the window. I jump, gasping as Isaac’s furious face appears, his blue eyes wild with rage. "I'll kill you, Alyssa! I'll kill you and bury your @ss in the fking backyard!” he roars. He'll actually do it. This is the angriest I've ever seen him, and I know he'll take it too far this time. I'll be dead, and there'll be no one to stop him from doing the same to our daughter. Zuri wails, her tiny cries cutting through the chaos. Each pound of his fists reverberates through the car, sending fear and apprehension coursing through me. No. We have to leave. Now. I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white. "Move, Isaac!" I scream. "Or I swear to God, I will run you over!” He doesn't budge. His chest heaves as he continues to hammer away at the glass, his eyes daring me to follow through on my threat. I slam the gas pedal, the car lurching backward. At the last second, he jumps away, his feet barely avoiding my tires. Then I speed off, leaving our current life behind once and for all. I drive for miles, my vision blurred with tears, my hands shaking violently against the wheel. Zuri is finally asleep, but I know we’re not safe yet. Isaac is probably tracking my car right now, and if I don’t ditch it soon, he’ll find us. Pulling over to the side of the road, I gasp for air, my chest tight with panic. I dig through my bag, yanking out my phone. Isaac has always tracked me—even when I just ran to the store. If I was even two minutes late, he’d revoke my driving privileges for the month. I try to call Gray, but it goes straight to voicemail. I try again. And again. Finally, I leave a voicemail, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. “Gray, please call me when you get this.” I glance back at Zuri, still sleeping peacefully. "We're going to be okay," I whisper, more to myself than her. "I'll keep us safe." But what the hll am I going to do? I'm running out of time. Isaac will find us and drag us back to that hellhole. If I go to the police, it won’t matter. I’ve done it once before, and they sent me right back to him. Of course, money was involved. I know if I report him again, he’ll kill me this time. Another name comes to mind—someone I never thought I’d have to speak to again in my life. But I know he’ll help me. I hesitate before dialing the number, hoping to God it hasn’t changed. There are only a few people that have his personal number. But for some reason, he gave it to me a few months after I started dating Isaac. He picks up on the first ring. I don’t even wait for him to speak first. "King, Gray won't answer his phone. Please. I need your help."

King I never thought Alyssa Bennett would reach out to me. For her to be that desperate, I guess she finally got tired of her piece-of-shift husband. It's been a while since I've driven anything other than my bike, but when she called, I pulled my truck from its resting place in the garage. Now, I park behind the red car on the side of the road, the sun starting to dip behind the horizon. I watch as Alyssa jumps out of the driver’s seat and rushes to the rear. First, she grabs a diaper bag. Then—a car seat. I squint, making sure I’m seeing this right. Yeah. It's a fking car seat. Stepping out of my truck, I walk over, offering to grab her bag. She ignores me, securing the car seat into my backseat with the practiced ease of someone who’s done this a million times before. I didn't know what to expect when she called me. But a real baby—dressed in a pink onesie and making weird little noises—wasn't it. Maybe she’s babysitting this kid or something, I wonder silently. It's been three years since I last saw Alyssa, and she's changed. I'm not sure if it's for the better or worse. She looks worn the fk out—like she's been fighting for her life. And I have a gut feeling she has been. She's wearing a black hoodie and jeans, her dark curls pulled into a messy bun, strands escaping to frame her face. Dark circles linger beneath her hazel eyes. And if I weren’t the observant son of a bltch I am, I wouldn’t have noticed the poorly concealed bruises on her cheeks—makeup barely covering the purple blotches underneath. The sight boils my blood. I shouldn’t have listened to Gray. We could’ve saved her a long time ago. I don’t give a fk if she didn’t come willingly—I would’ve killed that motherfvcker and brought her back home. Alyssa jumps into the front seat and quickly buckles herself in. Her knee bounces nervously, and she gnaws on her l*p as I climb back into my seat. "Can we leave already?" she asks, her voice tight with tension. I eye her car one more time. "Any reason we're abandoning your car on the side of the road?" I ask, arching a brow. If I push just enough, will she be honest about what the fk is going on? I mean, we could always make a pit stop by her house and deal with the problem. Been a few days since I've had my fill of violence anyway. "It's dead," she answers, but there's a hint of anxiety in her tone that I don't miss. "I’ve got some jumper cables in the back-” "The engine is dead, not the battery," she interrupts, her words rushed. Yeah, she's lying her @ss off. "Want me to call a tow truck?" I ask, watching her carefully. "N-No, it's okay. Isaac says he’ll pick it up when he gets back home," she stammers. "Wanna call him and make sure?" "No.” Her desperation is becoming obvious now, but she’s trying to keep her calm demeanor. I smirk at the effort. "Have somewhere to be, Kitten?" She doesn't answer, just looks at me with those pleading hazel eyes. Usually, I’d milk this moment for all it’s worth—I’ve always enjoyed fking with her—but I’ll save it for later. When she’s safely in my home. Pulling back onto the highway, I glance at her before my eyes flick to the car seat in the back. I clear my throat. "So, who's the kid?" "Zuri," she murmurs. "And she's-" "My daughter." Interesting. I don't recall Gray ever mentioning she had a kid. Actually, I don’t think he’s spoken to her in months. Even before that, they barely talked—once a month, maybe, and she was always ready to get off the phone after five minutes. Gray, you dumb fk. That should've been the biggest fking red flag he needed right there. "How old is she?" "Seven months." I hate little crotch goblins—never imagined myself having one—but jealousy and anger still boil under the surface. Isaac Carter was the first man to fk her, to breed her. Lucky motherfvcker. That was supposed to be me. But Niko and I made a pact years ago: since we both liked her, neither of us could have her. "She looks like you. Got your curls." Alyssa smiles weakly. "Yeah, she does." As we drive, I notice how her eyes keep flickering to the side mirrors, scanning for any signs of her husband following us. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly the farther we get from her abandoned car. Finally, she shifts her gaze to me—where it belongs. "So, where's Gray? I'm surprised he hasn't called me back yet." I grunt. "Haven't seen him much lately. But you know how it is with the club—always something going on. I'm sure he'll call you back soon." Right now, my brother has his own shift going on. But when he texts me to go handle someone, I do it without question. That's my job, and I enjoy the fk out of it. Alyssa snorts. "I think you mispronounced 'gang'. Let's be for real, it's a gang." I pick up on the disdain in her tone, but she has no fking idea why we do what we do. Gray wanted to keep her a clueless little kitten. And I never had the time or fking energy to argue with him about it. Until now. As a matter of fact, I think the topic will be coming up real soon. "Can we actually stop at Target really quick? I need a few things," Alyssa asks, that nervousness creeping back into her voice. "Sure." I pull into the nearest Target, parking halfway down the lot since it's always so godаm packed. Alyssa quickly hops out, but before she can close the door, I call out, "I think you forgot something." She furrows her brows. "What?" I point to the car seat, my gut twisting with unease. "You're leaving the kid here?" "Yeah, Zuri's asleep.” I stare at her. “You’re really leaving the kid here?” "I'll be quick. You'd be surprised how long she can sleep through things.” I watch as she rushes inside, leaving me alone with the crotch goblin I have no fking idea what to do with. Barely five minutes pass before Zuri starts crying. fk. Maybe she’ll cry herself back to sleep. But the cries quickly become louder, more demanding. goddа'mmit. Fine. I reach into the back, struggling with the straps before awkwardly pulling her out. The moment she’s in my arms, she stops crying. God, I hate this. Why didn't she just take her with her? I glance down at the kid. Hazel eyes. Same as Alyssa’s. Unfortunately, there’s some of Isaac's DNA mixed in there too. Her tiny fingers grab my shirt, and I feel a pang of something in my chest. Maybe it's that big @ss burger I ate earlier clogging my arteries. Whatever it is, I shove it right the fk down and scan the lot for any immediate danger. A coo grabs my attention again, and I frown down at her. "Look, kid. We can be cool, but don't get in my way. Me and your mother have unfinished business to take care of tonight.” She babbles. "Good. Glad we understand each other."

Alyssa Leaving Zuri in the car with King wasn't my first choice, but I have a lot of shift to get and so little time. The diaper bag could only hold so much, but I stuffed what I could in it before I left. Now, I need to get the rest of her necessities that will at least last a little while. Isaac will freeze my accounts soon, and I'll be cut off from any money. I can't even check the app because I ditched my phone in the car to avoid being tracked. I dash through the aisles, grabbing a travel crib, two boxes of diapers and wipes, a variety of pouched baby food, and a few cans of formula. My heart thunders in my chest as I make my way to the register. Thanks to Isaac, I know how to grab what I need and carry my @ss. I tap my card against the reader, praying it works. It declines. A wave of anxiety and dread crash over me. fk. He has already frozen them. Panic sets in. What the fk am I going to do now? "Ma'am, do you have money to pay? If not, I can hold the items for you," the cashier says politely, her eyes showing a mixture of sympathy and impatience. There's a line starting to form behind me. I run my fingers through my hair. "Uh, no. Just forget it, I'll find another-" "I've got it," a deep voice rumbles from right behind me. I turn around, my heart skipping a beat. There stands King, holding Zuri in his arms. He looks almost ridiculous with her—my sixteen-pound baby in the arms of a giant, terrifying man clad in biker gear. 'W-What are you doing in here?" I whisper to him in horror. His jaw tenses, but his eyes remain calm. "She pissed all over me, and I didn't know what to do." I'm surprised he even took her out of the car seat, let alone brought her inside. "Take her," he orders, passing her to me without waiting for my response. He taps a card on the reader, and the cashier smiles, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Hubby to the rescue, I see," she says with a flustered laugh, her eyes flickering between King and me. I bet she's trying to figure out how someone like him is here with someone like me. Caught off guard by her assumption, I feel my own cheeks heat with embarrassment. "H-He's not..." I start to correct her, but King's amused smirk stops me mid-sentence. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the cashier. "Never mind. Thank you." With Zuri's onesie soaked and a sense of urgency pressing down on me, I tell King that I'll change her in the bathroom and meet him in the car. His response shocks the shift out of me. "Absolutely not, Kitten. Go change her, and I'll wait out here with the cart," King insists firmly, his tone brooking no argument. My eyes widen in disbelief. Did King die and get replaced with an actual decent human being? I'm not used to this. Isaac never went into the store with me. I always had to juggle everything alone. That included my pregnancy, post-partum, and raising her. It seemed like his only focus was running his father's business and controlling me. "Uh, thanks," I mutter, still processing King's unexpected kindness. "What about your shirt?" I gesture towards the noticeable wet spot concealed beneath his leather jacket. He shakes his head. "It's fine. We're almost home, anyway." As I head into the bathroom, my mind whirls with questions. While I mindlessly change Zuri's diaper and outfit, I dissect every interaction with King, trying to decipher his intentions. Has he really changed that much in three years? Even when Zuri peed on him, he didn't react the way I expected. It's suspicious, unnerving, and I can't shake the feeling that it's all a facade. I feel like it's only a matter of time before he says 'sike' and goes back to being a giant аs hole. But for now, as long as he's willing to keep me and Zuri safe until Gray comes to pick us up, I can handle anything he throws at me. After all, I survived him and the rest of Gray's dumbass friends in high school. I'll survive this too. Coming out of the bathroom, I find King leaning against the wall, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "Have any trouble in there?" he teases with a wicked smirk that sends my heart racing. I shake off the strange feeling before it gets the chance to fester. I force a laugh. "I had to wrestle her like an alligator, but the little strap on the changing table helps a little." We walk out of the store, side by side, and I keep glancing at King, his stoic expression betraying nothing. What is he planning in that little fked-up head of his? Returning Zuri to her seat, I watch as King loads my purchases into the back of the truck. This feels oddly...domestic—going to Target with a giant, psychotic, dangerous man in a biker gang. Once he climbs back into the driver seat, the truck silently rumbles to life, and we start heading towards his house. The closer we get, the more anxiety creeps over me. I know where he lives, but I've never stepped foot inside his place. Frankly, I never wanted to. "I can feel your brain buzzing from here. Don't worry, you can leave any time you want. I don't plan on holding you hostage," he says, the corner of his mouth curling. "I'm not worried about that," I lie, crossing my arms. I wish he'd stop acting like he can read me. He doesn't know shift about me, except that I'm Gray's little sister and I hate his guts. He responds with an infuriating "mhmm," his eyes still glued to the road. Once we pull into the driveway, he tells me to stay inside while he brings all of the stuff in. Then, he pulls out Zuri's car seat from the backseat and carries her inside. What the fk is really going on? I follow behind him, recalling the disgust on his face when he first saw Zuri. And now he's carrying her. Yeah, something's up, and I'm determined to find out what it is. As we step inside, my mouth drops open. His place is amazing, like the ideal bachelor pad. It's two stories with natural light pouring in from all of the spotless windows, casting a warm, inviting glow over the space. I was worried I would have to do some major babyproofing tonight, but besides a few sleek, modern couches, the massive flat-screen TV and expensive looking art pieces are on the wall, way out of reach. His maids must do an amazing job, there isn't a speck of dust in sight. I'll have to make sure to clean up after Zuri the second she makes a mess, though. This is his space, and he's graciously allowing us to stay here for whatever reason. I want to make sure to show my gratitude, despite the feeling I think he's up to something. "Uh, are you sure you want us to stay here until Gray comes to get us?" I ask in a low voice, still glancing around his mini palace. As he begins heading up the stairs, he looks over his shoulder. "You called me for help, didn't you? What kind of man would I be if I didn't make sure you were safe until he could take over?" The same аs hole I grew up with, I want to answer, but I bite my tongue. He smirks and disappears upstairs. While I assume he's showering, I lay out Zuri's blanket and set her down on it as I give her a pouch of pureed chicken and peas and carrots. As disgusting as it sounds, she happily suks it down, her tiny hands gripping the pouch as if someone might steal it. As she eats, I assemble the travel crib. Even though this is a new, unfamiliar environment, I hope she passes out after she eats, like she usually does. I need some time to think about our future. We can't live with Gray forever. I know Isaac will eventually finds us, and try to take Zuri away from me, if he doesn't kill me first. We're not safe here in Moonshadow Creek. I smile as I watch her. "I told you Mommy would get us out of there. I just need to figure out where to go from here," I murmur, more to myself than her. Right now, my top priority is keeping Zuri safe while I find a way to start fresh, where nobody will ever be able to find us again.