FIEND

A MONSTERS IN US SEQUEL: A VINESSA NOVELLA

MARIE ANN

CONTENTS

Playlist

1. Vincent

2. Vincent

3. Essa

4. Vincent

5. Leo

6. Vincent

7. Jax

8. Vincent

9. Vincent

10. Vincent

Sneak Peek

Quiet Is The Night Now

Prologue

Acknowledgments

Books by Marie Ann

About the Author

Copyright © 2022 by Marie Ann

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.

Cover design: Graphic Escapist

Editing: Tiff Writes Romance

Proofread by: KC Bear

Formatting by: Bailey Nicole

PLAYLIST

Lydia—Highly Suspect

Save Yourself—My Darkest Days

Happiness in Self Destruction—The Plot In You

Something In The Way—Nirvana

Give—Sleep Token

Whatever It Takes—Lifehouse

All or Nothing—Theory of a Deadman

Villain I’m Not—Three Days Grace

Bloodfeather—Highly Suspect

NOT JUST BREATHING—The Plot In You

Heavenly—Cigarettes After Sex

Paradigm—The Plot In You

ONE LAST TIME—The Plot In You

Run—Snow Patrol

Diamond Eyes—Deftones

Fix Me—10 Years

The Bridge—Candlebox

Life After You—Daughtry

Time—Pink Floyd

Fine Again—Seether

What’s This Life For—Creed

(Check out the full playlist on Spotify!)

This one is for my readers.

you scarred my body.

my heart.

my soul.

and I’ve never felt more beautiful.

or loved.

—Marie Ann

ONE

VINCENT

Glancing over at her out of the corner of my eye, I notice she’s trying to sneak another cup of coffee.

After two fucking years, you’d think she would’ve learned to listen. But then again, she wouldn’t be my baby doll if she didn’t defy me at every fucking turn.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, baby doll?” I growl, slamming my mug down on the table with a hard clank before pushing my chair away from the table to stand. I spin to face her fully and cross my arms over my bare chest, cocking a brow and waiting for yet another one of her excuses.

“Um…” Essa takes a step away from the counter with her coffee mug in hand, full of the steaming liquid. Her fingers intertwine and twist together as she eyes me warily. After a few seconds of displaying her nervous habit, she catches herself, instead choosing to bring the mug near her face to hide the smug smirk she’s suddenly wearing.

“Really, baby?” I ask as I take a step toward her. Her smirk turns into a full-blown sarcastic-ass smile as she brings the edge of the mug to her lips and takes a long, languid sip. Her eyes flutter close as the taste of her most coveted addiction dances across her taste buds. I’ve come to love that look on her face—and she fucking knows it, too.

“You’re fucking pushing it, baby doll.” I click my tongue as I take another step. Her smile falls as her eyes narrow. She glares at me, always fucking testing me.

“You’ve already had four of those today, and the doctor said you need to slow down—it’s not good for you. It would be different if you would drink decaf, but let me remind you—" Another step. Her breathing kicks up, causing her heavy breasts to heave with every breath. Her full lips part, giving me the smallest glimpse of her tongue and that fucking bar that runs through it. “You are the one that refuses to fucking drink the decaf. So put. The cup. Down.”

But, of course, she doesn’t listen to me.

She’s never listened to me.

The only difference this time is that she knows I can’t do what I truly want when she defies me. And that round belly she’s sporting makes spanking her plump, perky ass kind of difficult… but not impossible.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Vin. But it’s so good, and it’s all I ever want. It’s all the baby wants,” she whines and pouts her bottom lip at me like that will actually work.

I take the last step and cage her in with my arms on either side of her. I press as close as I can and lower my head so our eyes meet and our noses bump together.

“Don’t play that card with me. You know it won’t work, you little fucking brat. You need to do as you’re told, or I’m going to make you. One way or another.” My lips brush against hers as I speak. Hot puffs of her breath fan across my lips, making my already thickening cock rock fucking solid.

I glance down at her perfectly round belly pressing into my stomach; the coolness of her skin is seeping into me, even through her black tank top. I feel myself smiling—a real, true fucking smile.

I never knew happiness could feel like this.

It’s been two years since we both stood in my happy place, utterly broken, but hopeful. Together.

Now, here I stand. Staring at something we made, the two of us. Something I never thought we would have, that I would have.

I know I don’t deserve this happiness. Not after what I did to her, to us. I deserve to burn in the deepest, blackest pits of hell for all eternity. Actually, I deserve much worse.

But Essa won’t let me, the ever stubborn little bitch that she is.

She stands up straighter and grabs my hand which has gravitated towards her belly. She holds my much larger hand in between her two much smaller, cold ones, and squeezes. Her pale-green eyes lift from our clasped hands to my eyes, her own sparkling and shining with unshed tears.

She always fucking knows when my mind drags me to the worst places, and here she is, ready to pull me back to her without fail.

“Quit telling me what to do,” she finally says, shattering the peaceful silence that has descended over us. Her words confuse me for a moment, and my brows pinch together as I try to recall what we were even talking about a minute ago.

Oh. The fucking coffee.

“Essa Jaymes…” I growl, narrowing my eyes. I grasp one of her hands tighter in my own to warn her I’m not fucking around—not about this. If she thinks she can tell me all of this shit I have to do when the baby gets here, then she doesn’t get to do whatever the fuck she wants beforehand either.

“Don’t ‘Essa’ me, Vincent. You can’t tell me what I can and cannot drink. If I want to drink five cups of fucking coffee, then I fucking will.” She rips her hand from mine and crosses her arms over her chest, but all that serves to do is push her tits up further, giving me a great view with the black tank top she’s wearing.

As I stare at her exposed, scarred flesh, I can’t help but think about sinking my teeth into the curve of her breast. To watch as the blood wells then spills down the valley between them.

My cock throbs painfully, digging into the zipper of my jeans. I reach down and adjust myself so I’m more comfortable before I turn away from Essa, forcing my anger down my throat in a bitter, agonizing lump.

These last eight months have been some of the longest of my life.

Ever since we found out she was pregnant, I stopped hurting her. I haven’t hit her hard enough to leave welts or bruises, nor have I seen her blood flow from any of my cuts. I haven’t even given a single fucking permanent blemish to her milky skin, and I crave it so fucking desperately, I can feel myself losing it. But I can hold on for a little bit longer.

I have to.

Feeling antsy in my own skin with the dangerous direction my thoughts are taking me, I give up the argument and leave Essa alone in the kitchen to drink her coffee. After I step outside—because I quit smoking inside, another somewhat reasonable demand of Essa’s—I light a cigarette, inhaling the nicotine into my lungs. I hold it for a few seconds, relishing in the burn before blowing out the white-gray smoke. My eyes follow as it curls around in the air before dissipating completely.

I shove my lighter back into my front right pocket before taking a seat on the wooden steps to stare out at the trees in front of me. Their pull over me is still as strong as the day I moved here, and I’ll admit, most of the time, I miss it. I crave who I used to be and what I used to do. A huge part of me always will, but I’m content. I’m… happy. I think.

Times like this, when I’m alone with my thoughts, I can’t help but think about how it could have all been so different. How I almost fucked everything up. How it all almost ended.

I killed Essa.

Her heart stopped by my hand.

It’s been over two years since then, and I still can’t fucking fathom it. The brutal reality that I put my own fucking hands around her throat and took her life from her—the one life I never had the right to take.

I didn’t fucking accept it back then, but she saved me. She saved me from the worst parts of myself—even after everything we both went through after she left me. And in return, I ruined her.

And now, we’re this. A fucking couple. Married and pregnant, living a mundane life.

What am I supposed to do when I have everything I never dreamed was possible… but it’s still not enough?

I’m fucking crawling out of my skin for something… more. I need more—and I have the opportunity for it. But the problem is, Essa can’t know.

It goes against everything I promised her when we had our small courthouse wedding about a year ago where, before the ceremony, I told her I was done with the killing. And the drug dealing. Basically, everything illegal I was doing for Leo.

Now, I fucking help run the pub.

I take the last drag and flick the butt across the driveway. It flies through the air before getting lost amongst the rocks. A thick blanket of gray clouds covers the sky, leaving the air dense and muggy with imminent rain.

My phone vibrating in my pocket pulls me from my reverie, and I lean back to pull it out. Leo’s name flashes across the screen, and I begrudgingly swipe to answer.

“Have you talked to her about it yet?” His deep voice booms through the speaker with no preamble.

“You don’t have to yell, you fucking dick. And no, I haven’t.” I swallow and grit my teeth, preparing myself for his verbal lashing.

“You fucking haven’t? What the hell, Vincent? We leave tomorrow.”

“I’m aware. I’ll talk to her about it later.” Another lie.

“Don’t fuck this up, Vincent. I’m sure she’ll understand. I’m not exactly thrilled about what we’re going to do, but I can’t leave you to do it yourself and fuck up. Essa would kill me if you got caught. And she’s fucking feisty. I’d rather not be on her bad side.”

“I wouldn’t fuck up,” I growl, and Leo breathes out, about to interrupt me when I speak again, effectively cutting him off. “But whatever. The fact is, it’s happening, and Essa will need to accept it for what it is.” I stand from the steps, sucking in a deep breath and changing the subject. “Can Jax still come over and keep her company? I don’t want to leave her alone.”

Leo sighs. “You know she’s not going to fucking like that, Vin.”

“I don’t fucking care. Can he or not?” I bite out. My anger spikes, and I let out a sardonic huff. Ironic how Leo always feels the fucking need to throw his two cents into my goddamn relationship when his is a fucking mess itself.

“Yep.” His answer is short and clipped, but I don’t give a shit. I just hang up and shove my phone back into my pocket. He needs to get his own mess of a life straightened out before he projects his problems into my relationship.

It’s been two fucking years, and I have absolutely no idea what is going on with him and Jaxon. One minute, they’re together and everything is good, and the next, shit is up in flames and one of them disappears.

It honestly gives me fucking whiplash, and I’m done trying to keep up.

It’s like the sky opens up the moment I start up the stairs, and rain pours down in heavy sheets. I halt my steps and roll my eyes into the back of my head while grinding my teeth so hard, pain shoots through my jaw. My hands clench into fists while gooseflesh arises on my bare arms and torso as I play my memories like a movie behind my closed lids.

Blood.

Choking sobs.

Screams.

Death.

The smell of burning flesh.

I inhale deeply at the memory, but my eyes spring open when all I smell is the fresh rain falling around me, soaking me to my core.

The wet ends of my cropped hair drip into my eyes, and I brush my fingertips over my partially-closed lids. I let out a puff of air before I trudge inside, shaking off the memories that keep me prisoner.

Memories Essa can’t know I relive every chance I get.

Once I’m inside, I head straight to the kitchen, but when I reach the open floorplan of the rooms, I can easily see she’s not down here. Without thinking twice, I head up the stairs to our room, taking them two at a time. I’m suddenly desperate to see her.

I need her for everything.

To live. To breathe. To fucking forget.

My blood simmers to a boil, the monster in me trying to claw his way out. Whenever I think I have him buried deep enough, he manages to reappear out of thin air and make me second guess every single fucking decision I have ever made.

And I fucking hate it almost as much as I need it.

As I barrel into our room, I throw the door open. It smacks against the wall with a resounding thud, probably leaving a hole in the wall, but I don’t fucking care.

“Essa!” I yell desperately. “Essa!” I suck in breath after breath, straining my ears, but the blood rushing through them makes it impossible to hear a goddamn thing. I dart across the room and into the bathroom where she must be. My eyes land on the glass door to the walk-in shower, fogged over and covered in water droplets. I release the heaviest sigh of relief as Essa’s face and long, black hair under the spray of the water come into view.

Without thinking about anything other than my baby doll, I peel my soaked jeans off of my legs and drop them to the floor with a wet plop. I pull open the glass door and step into the warm enclosure, closing it behind me. The scent of Essa’s minty-orange shampoo fills my lungs as I lean against the damp shower wall, watching her rinse said shampoo from her hair. I take in every inch of her—from her smooth forehead to her small, round nose, plump lips, and rounded chin, down her neck and collarbones to her chest and extra-full tits, her round belly with a few stretch marks, her curvy hips and ass, and her thick, long legs.

I visually trace my tongue along every scar, along every tattoo—which she is now covered in, especially her arms—except for her forearm where she carved CREEP into her skin—and her legs, chest, and back. She’s covered in black ink with thick lining, and it’s fucking sexy as hell. They’re not connected. Instead, they’re placed almost seemingly haphazardly, but they look fucking good on her.

Jax did every single one of them. One, because I don’t trust anyone else to touch my baby doll. And two, because he’s gay, and I know he wouldn’t be checking her out while tattooing. A win-win to me.

“Baby doll,” I whisper, my voice lost in the sound of the water, but she still hears me. She wipes the water from her eyes, then opens them to meet my gaze. I observe as her brows pinch, and a frown pulls at her lips. Water drips from her forehead, down her nose, and to the floor. I follow the path of the single drop of water before meeting her gaze once more.

Her pale-greens lock on my deep browns, concern heavily marring her face. She doesn’t say a word—only giving me the smallest, most subtle nod, and I’m on her in one second flat. My lips lock with hers, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth.

Her breathy moans vibrate through me, and her warm, yet always cool skin, covers mine and brings my internal inferno to a more comfortable level—a level that is highly intoxicating still to this day.

I wrap my tongue around the barbell running through hers and suck it into my mouth. She shudders and presses against me in desperation. Her belly bumps into me, and she lets out a breathy chuckle as she pulls away. She pants, out of breath from devouring one another while she stares at me through a heavy-lidded gaze.

“My stomach makes this a little fucking difficult.” She sighs and drops her hands to her sides in defeat.

I grab her hips and pull her as close to me as I can to run my tongue along the left side of her neck, over one of her scars and the small, tattooed script there. I latch onto her skin and suck a mark there—fucking needing it before pulling away to look at it. A dark possession fills me at the sight of a hickey residing just above the two E’s in the tattooed word Creep.

My little fucking creep.

After licking the bruise on her neck one last time, I pull her cold lips back to mine and sink my teeth into her bottom lip. I suck it into my mouth, lavishing it for another minute before ripping myself away from her.

I trail my hands down Essa’s body as I drop to my knees in front of her. My gaze meets hers to find her green eyes masked with lust, her dilated pupils staring hungrily at me. My hands circle her hips as I pull her against me. Her large stomach presses against my face, and I take a moment to just fucking feel her.

To remember why I’m doing this. Why I’m fighting who I truly am.

Her. This baby.

They are worth it.

They fucking have to be.

But even so, I still have to do this. I know Essa is going to freak the fuck out on me when she finds out, but she can’t do shit about this. I won’t let her change my mind—which is why I refuse to tell her I’m leaving. Jax is going to be here tomorrow morning to stay with her while Leo and I are gone.

I’m not planning on it taking more than a day, but sometimes, shit goes wrong, and I need to make sure Essa isn’t alone.

She will probably lose her shit on Jax and curse me to fucking hell like she always does when she’s pissed at me, but when I get back and tell her why, she’ll understand. And if she doesn’t, then she will just have to get the fuck over it. Essa is stuck with me, regardless.

She’s still such a feisty bitch, which, granted, is one of the reasons I love her, but the shit gets irritating real fucking quick.

“Baby,” Essa’s breathy moan pulls me back to the now, and I smirk against her swollen belly. I feel a light thump against my face, and my smile grows until my cheeks ache from the pressure. I press my lips to her stomach before pulling away and lowering my head.

I run my tongue down her stomach, tracing one of the small, silvery scars as I shift lower until I reach the junction of her thighs. Squeezing her plump ass in my palms, I run my tongue between her pussy lips.

Essa’s hands fly to my hair, gripping the strands harshly as she uses them to keep her balance. Her legs wobble as I circle her clit with my tongue and suck it into my mouth.

Her flavor explodes on my tongue, and I groan. Shifting on my knees is difficult on the slippery, shower floor, but I manage to lower my ass to my calves so I can get a better angle. I dig my fingertips into her ass cheeks, giving her a bite of pain as I push my tongue inside of her.

Her walls are warm and wet around my tongue as I fuck her with it. Her moans turn to pants, and her grip on my hair turns brutal. But Essa isn’t the only one that has a thing for fucking pain.

I pull away from her and pant against her wet flesh. “That’s it, baby doll. Ride my tongue.” I hope to see her face as I look up, but her stomach is in the way. So, instead, I delve back into my favorite fucking snack and pull her cheeks apart so I can press the tip of my index finger against her hole as I suck her clit back into my mouth.

Her body trembles against me, and the moment I latch my teeth onto her clit, biting harshly, she loses it. Her scream echoes through the shower walls as she comes all over my face. I shove my tongue back inside of her, needing to feel her walls pulsing.

Her cum on my tongue has my own cock twitching and pulsing. I flatten my tongue and run it along her slit, back up to her clit before pulling away completely. When my hands drop from her ass, Essa shifts away from me, breathless and panting. She steps back under the spray of the shower to rinse off without sparing me a single fucking glance.

“What the fuck is your problem now, Essa?”

“Nothing, Vincent.” With that, she pulls open the glass door and steps out. I huff out a breath as I step into the spray of the shower and wash myself off. I attempt to cool off—literally with cold water—but her fucking attitude pisses me off.

She wants to be pissed at me for doing what the doctor said? Nope. Not gonna fucking happen.

After turning the water off, I step from the shower, not bothering to dry off as I make my way to the bedroom. Essa is standing in front of the dresser, fucking with the sound system, and less than five seconds later, “Lydia” by Highly Suspect blares through the room, the beat thudding the walls.

Because of the volume of the song, I’m able to step right up to her without her knowledge. I wrap my arms around her middle and shove her back against me so her bare ass presses against my thighs.

“I am fucking merciless, baby doll, or did you forget that after all this fucking time?” I tell her in reference to the song with my lips pressed against the shell of her ear. I lift my right arm and wrap my hand around her throat, pulling her head against my chest.

Her back arches, causing her belly to bump into the dresser in front of us. Her pulse races against my hand, the blood rushing through her veins and spiking her adrenaline.

“You may be resilient, but in your condition, you’re my fragile little doll. I may not be able to fucking beat your ass like I used to, but you will lose your attitude.” I tighten my grip to accentuate my point.

“Get the fuck off me, Vincent,” Essa puffs out, and I smirk. Apparently, she wants to fucking play games with me.

I guess we’ll see if she still feels the same when she’s coming all over my fucking cock.

“Is that what you want, baby?” I squeeze one last time before I release her from my hold completely. I take a step back and watch her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck what you want right now.” With that, I squat and grip Essa under her knees and her back. I lift her into my arms, and she shouts when she loses her balance. A sharp sting radiates on my face as Essa’s palm connects with my skin.

“Fuck you, Vincent!” She struggles in my hold, but not for long. I toss her into the air, and she lands with a thud on the bed. She scrambles away from me, but I’m faster than her.

I’ve always been faster.

I grab onto her arms and quickly secure her left in one of the pairs of handcuffs we keep attached to the bed frame. The clink of the metal clicking into place has Essa’s entire body locking up, her limbs going stiff. With one of her arms out of my way, I lean across her body to secure her right one, but I must’ve been too close because Essa latches her teeth into the muscle of my trapezius.

A growl rumbles in my throat as a painful throb emits down my arm. Warmth coats my skin as she sinks her teeth in deeper before I can rip myself away. I grip her cheeks and squeeze so hard, her lips pucker, glistening with my blood.

I glare at her with equal amounts of rage and arousal pulsing through every vein. “You little fucking…” I snarl, and crash my lips to hers, growling deeper when my blood coats my tongue. Our tongues war with each other as our kiss deepens, desperation surging through the both of us. Our teeth clash, clanking together and jarring us with the sudden wave of pain, but it only fuels us on. Every nip, every bite, every twinge of pain only makes us more fucking needy for what the other gives.

She’s the other half of my soul. Just as merciless and brutal as I am.

Her fingers grip the back of my neck, trying to pull me on top of her.

“Nice try, baby doll.” I yank myself away from her before pulling her lips back to mine. Instead of what she wants, I shift us so my ass is on the bed and Essa is on top of me. Her left arm is still handcuffed so she has to stay pressed against me—well, as close as she can with her stomach between us.

She circles her hips on top of me, grinding her pussy over my cock. Unable to stand it any longer, I lift her with one hand and grip my cock in the other. Once my head is brushing her slick entrance, she sinks down on me until her ass is flush with my pelvis.

My heavy-lidded gaze flies to her face. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are closed as she works herself on my length, grinding and bouncing, taking her pleasure without a second thought.

She’s fucking beautiful.

My eyes eat up every inch of her as she loses herself to her pleasure. I have every scar and its placement on her skin memorized, but that doesn’t stop me from absorbing each and every one like it’s the first time. And the tattoos on top of her scars fucking does it for me.

“Come on my cock, baby doll.” My hand circles her throat, squeezing tightly, and my other grips her waist, helping her rock on top of me just right so her clit brushes my pelvis with every up-shift of her hips. My balls seize up when she contracts around me, letting go with another beautiful fucking scream. As she pulses on my cock, my release flows through me, and I shoot inside of her.

Panting, Essa leans against me the best she can, and I use my grip on her hip to keep rocking her back and forth to work through our post-orgasm, prolonging the feeling. I can hear “Fix Me” by 10 Years playing through the speakers as the blood rushing through my ears subsides.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she mutters against my skin, her breath hot against my damp flesh.

I snort. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“You can’t keep telling me what to do, Vin. I’m fucking sick of it. I’ve been told what to do my entire life. I don’t need it from you, too.” She pulls away to look me in the eyes. Her pale greens are pleading, and I swallow down the lump in my throat.

That was a low fucking blow, and she knows it.

“Then do the right fucking thing, and I wouldn’t have to tell you what to do, baby doll.”

She ignores my jab and yanks her arm a few times as she wriggles on top of me, causing my softening cock to twitch inside of her warmth. “Undo this.”

I lift her off of me and reach across the bed for the key in the nightstand drawer. After pulling it out, I undo the cuff from her wrist then toss it back into the drawer. I lean back against the bedframe and close my eyes with a sigh.

Leo and I leave in less than twelve hours, and she has no idea. When she wakes in the morning, I’ll be gone, and she won’t know. Even Jax doesn’t know what’s going on, so he can’t spill his fucking guts to her. Their friendship has grown exponentially over the years, and while I’m glad she has someone, I don’t need Jax bringing a rift between us with truths he shouldn’t even know.

That is, unless Leo opened his fucking mouth and told him. I made him swear he wouldn’t, but if I’m being honest, I should know better. Leo can’t seem to think straight when Jax is around, so keeping his mouth shut with him is next to impossible.

I guess if he knows, I’ll deal with it when I get back. I can’t think about anything other than what I need to do right now; otherwise, I’ll lose focus.

I know I should feel guilty about lying to her, but the truth is, I don’t. I can’t. Because this is what I need, and sometimes, we just have to be fucking selfish. I’ve given up so much for her, for this life we now have, but I can’t give this one thing up.

I fucking won’t.

I just hope that I don’t lose the one thing I need in order to have it.

TWO

VINCENT

“She’s going to fucking kill you.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I’m going to stand there and watch the whole fucking thing while cheering her on, too, you dumb son of a bitch.”

“Shut the fuck up, Leo.” I turn the knob up on my car stereo until all I hear is the music blasting through the speakers; “Diamond Eyes” by Deftones blares through.

The windows are down, air whipping through the car as we head down the highway, on our way to Le Grande. It’s still early—just past six o’clock because I wanted to head out before Essa woke up and I was forced to explain everything. I’ll leave that to Jax since, apparently, I was correct, and Leo told him what we were doing.

I light another cigarette, sucking in a large drag. When the song ends, I turn down the volume before turning to glance at Leo. His tattooed fingers are tapping against the car door as he stares out of the window.

“What’s going on with you and Jax?” I decide to just fucking go with it. Leo never used to be this secretive with me, but it seems like these last couple of years, all he keeps is secrets.

“It doesn’t matter, Vincent.” He sighs and rolls his eyes as he glances at me. When I don’t say anything, he puffs out, “What the fuck do you want me to say?”

I let out a dry laugh. “I don’t know? The fucking truth?” When my cigarette meets the filter, I smash it in the ashtray and immediately light up another.

“Those are going to kill you.”

“Fucking says you,” I growl out, and Leo laughs, stubbing his own cigarette out in the ashtray.

“What’s going on with us isn’t important because it doesn’t matter. It will never be anything, so just leave it alone.”

“What the fuck ever, Leo.” I grit my teeth and spin the volume back up, trying to block out the anger surging through me. Anger I need to save until later. Until it really fucking matters.

I roll the windows up just as the soothing intro of Nirvana’s “Something In The Way” sounds through the car. I focus on the lyrics as I drive, instead choosing to think about the motherfucker we’re going to pay a visit to.

THREE

ESSA

The warm water sloshes over my shoulders as I shift to my side, trying to get more comfortable, but it’s no use. I’m too fucking pissed, but my back is killing me, and a bath is usually the only thing that helps.

Not today.

My anger at my stupid fucking husband is overriding everything and making my pain worse.

He has always amplified my pain.

I give up and roll to my back, letting the sudsy water settle back across my chest. I lean my head back against the cool porcelain of the tub—a tub Vincent bought specifically for me. It’s one of those huge clawfoot ones big enough for two people, and though I’m not usually a bath person, I use it every chance I can.

My eyes close against the harsh light glaring down around me. I wish I would have remembered to turn the fuckers off, but I was a little fucking preoccupied trying to forget Vincent is a fucking asshole.

These last two years have been nothing short of amazing. Well, as amazing as our relationship can be. We’ve had bumps in the road, but we have always worked through them together.

Our love is toxic at best and downright deadly at its worst. But that’s just us. That’s what we’ve always been.

It’s shit like this that’s hard to swallow—when he shuts me out, when he thinks I can’t fucking handle the worst parts of him.

I think sometimes he blocks out what he did to me—to us. How he technically ended my life for the briefest moment of time. I don’t. But not for the reasons one might think.

I remind myself daily to specifically remember the reasons I stayed. Why I love him. He’s dark. Tortured. Still irreparably broken. But that’s the thing; we’re one and the same, and I think he forgets that.

I brush my fingers over the raised skin of my forearm, breathing heavily through my nose. My eyes burn as I recall cutting that word into my arm. At that specific moment in time, I didn’t think I could get any lower. I was ready to end it all, so fucking sick of everything. Of feeling hopeless, worthless. Meaningless.

Vincent eventually showed me that I was quite the opposite of everything I ever felt about myself. We built something amazing together, and while I know it’s nowhere near normal to anyone but us, I have the life I always wanted. Someone who loves me, in his own maniacal way. A home that is actually a home…

I swallow the lump in my throat and shoot up in the tub, water sloshing over the side and splashing onto the tile floor. I bend my knees and wrap my arms around myself as best I can—which isn’t much with my stomach in the fucking way.

I rest my forehead on my knees, my face turned to the right. My eyes land on the small, black, long, and rectangular table built around the side of the tub, against the wall. On the table is the pack of cigarettes I’ve been avoiding, my lighter, and the remote to the sound system that’s hardwired throughout the entire house.

Flashes of Holley’s pale face and blood dripping from her parted lips has me reaching for the pack and lighting one post haste. My eyes flutter closed as I inhale deeply. My first taste of nicotine in a long ass time causes my head to swim. The unexpected floating sensation has my eyes popping open, and I pull the cigarette from my lips with a cough.

“Motherfucker, I’m not used to that,” I say to myself. Scoffing, I reach for the remote and hit play on the sound system.

The Plot In You’s “Paradigm” starts in the middle of the song, and I instantly start bobbing my head along to the heavy beat as I smoke, forcing Holley from my head.

I miss her more than fucking anything. She was so happy then. With her life and her new boyfriend. I wanted it for her so fucking bad—that life. That happiness. But I ruined it for her. I stole her life because of my own selfishness. My inability to live with the deal I agreed to.

Sometimes, I wonder what she would think about Vincent now. Our… unconventional relationship and the fact that I’m about to have his baby.

After swallowing the lump in my throat, I suck in another drag of nicotine. When this dark cloud hangs over my head, threatening to pull me under, I can’t allow myself to think of her. It’s so fucking selfish to force her from my thoughts, but if I don’t, I know I’ll lose myself. Especially right now.

I haven’t cut myself the entirety of this pregnancy because I made a promise that I wouldn’t risk anything happening with this baby. I’ve miraculously managed to keep it, but right now, my self-control is being tested to its fucking limits.

Smoking isn’t fucking good either, but goddamnit, what else am I supposed to do? I can feel myself losing my grip on my already precarious stability.

I thought Vincent and I were in a better place than this. I thought we were past the lies and deception, yet here we fucking are.

Him gone without a word, doing fuck all, and I have a goddamn babysitter.

“You shouldn’t be smoking.”

Speaking of…

“I don’t need another person telling me what to do. You know that, Jax.” I sigh and lower the cigarette until the cherry dips into the water and fizzles as it extinguishes. I toss it on the stand next to the tub and wrap my arms around myself once more.

The bitter taste of the cigarette lingers on my tongue, along with guilt.

Fucking great.

“I know, baby girl. I’m just saying Vin isn’t going to like that. But you know I say do what you want.” I hear the door click closed and Jax’s footsteps across the tile. In my peripheral, I see him take a seat on the toilet a few feet from me.

“And I don’t give a fuck what he wants.”

“Fair enough.”

The baby kicks hard into my ribs, and I grit my teeth in pain. I let go of my knees and lean back in the tub again to straighten my legs, in an attempt to give the baby room to move around instead of digging into my fucking ribcage and making it difficult for me to breathe.

We have no idea what the gender is—I chose to wait until they’re born. Vincent wasn’t happy about it, but I refused to budge, and he surprisingly let it be my choice.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you in pain?” Jax is over to me in a second, his hands on my shoulders, rubbing soothing circles. I breathe through another round of sharp pain before peering up at him.

His bleach-blonde hair, which is longer on the top and shorter on the sides, is brushing against his pinched dark brows, one of them with a piercing through it. The silver of his three nose rings glint in the harsh light above along with the one in his lip, and the dimples that are almost always on display are nowhere to be seen.

“I’m fine, babe, really. The baby is just kicking really fucking hard.” I put my hand on Jax’s arm, trying to reassure him. He lays his other hand on mine, but his gaze never leaves mine.

“Are you sure? We can take you to the hospital or something…”

“Stop. I’m fine.” I change the subject. “So, are you going to tell me where they went?”

“Where who went?” He resumes his massage of my shoulders, trying to act coy, but we both know better.

“Fucking really? You’ve been putting off answering me all day.” I turn back to glare at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Baby girl, I don’t really want to tell you.”

“Jaxon, I swear to fucking—”

His voice is hard, almost cold, as he says, “They found the driver of the hit and run.”

I swear everything around me comes to a standstill. My heart, my breathing. The fucking world stops spinning. “What the fuck do you mean?”

This time, Jax sighs. “You know what I mean. They found him. And I’m sure you can imagine what they’re going to do.” His words are harsh; the worry is evident in his tone. For Leo. I don’t know what they are to each other anymore, with their over two years of off-and-on bullshit, but I know there is something there.

The water surrounding me cools in an instant as my blood turns to ice in my veins, slowing and preventing me from moving. It’s hard to breathe, my lungs refusing to do the one thing they are supposed to.

Dread and gut-wrenching worry have me shooting up in the tub. Jax falls backward, his hands falling from my shoulders at my unexpected movement. I lift my foot over the side, adamant to get Vincent on the fucking phone and make his ass come back home right the fuck now, but my right foot slips on the bottom of the rounded tub, and I lose my balance.

Everything slows to a crawl, and déjà vu hits me like a tidal wave of blinding pain and blood.

“Essa! Fuck!”

FOUR

VINCENT

“Where the fuck is he?” My temper is flaring to dangerously high levels as I grip the steering wheel, twisting my hands around. “Mike said he was here.”

“Vincent, it’s been years since the accident. The fact that we fucking found anything at all is lucky.” I glare over at Leo, and he gives me a smartass smile in return. Fucking asshole.

“I’m well aware, Leo. But still.”

“You need to learn to calm the fuck down sometimes. We’ll find him.” I glare over at Leo again and find him staring down at his phone with a thoughtful expression. Almost… pained. Worried.

“What the fuck is up with you? And that look on your face?”

“Shut the fuck up, Vin.” He holds down the power button on his phone and pockets it once the screen goes black. When he’s done, he glances over at me to find me already staring. “Oh, fucking hell. Would you quit?”

“You’re distracted. We don’t fucking need that,” I bite out. I swear to fucking God, if he puts this at risk—us at risk—I’ll kill him myself.

“Goddamn, Vincent!” Leo’s loud voice booms through the car. He twists his massive frame in the passenger side of the black Toyota Camry we’re using for this job—my last job.

“You just have to know everything going on in my life, don’t you? As if yours isn’t a fucking mess,” he grumbles.

My eyes widen, affronted. “Okay, that’s—”

“Jaxon and I will never fucking work. There’s too much between us for it to ever happen.” He sounds so resigned, and I feel a frown pulling at my lips. I’ve never seen Leo appear so fucking defeated. So… not Leo.

Come to think of it, I’ve never seen the beast anything other than confident. Strong. A motherfucking brute—in business. But with me, he’s always been a little different, and I think that he sees me sort of as a son—in a way.

Our age difference isn’t big enough for him to actually be a father to me, but I think, simply because of the circumstances of how we met, it set our relationship in stone. We’re more best friends than anything, but there are times when he takes on more of a caretaker or father-figure role.

It pisses me off, and he knows that, but I can admit there are times when I need it and him.

And right now, I think he needs me, but fuck me if I know what the fuck to do.

“Why not?” I ask, lighting up another cigarette because I don’t know what else to do. I feel out of my element, but it’s distracting me from the anger of having to wait for Trey Conley.

“Secrets, Vincent. Motherfucking secrets.” He sighs and runs his fingertips over his brows before rubbing his tattooed temples in small circles. I stare at him for a moment, trying to process what he said.

Is he keeping secrets from me, too? Me of all fucking people? Or only Jax?

“Quit fucking thinking about it. I told you because you won’t leave it alone. Not because I want you to know jack shit.” My gaze hardens on him. The tattoos running up his neck to behind his ears move as he shrugs his shoulders in a noncommittal way.

“Well, how the fuck am—”

“Fuck me, there he is,” Leo blurts out, and my blood instantly heats to a deadly level before my eyes even lock on the motherfucker I know Leo is talking about.

With all thoughts of our conversation gone at the drop of a dime, I turn back to stare out of the windshield. It’s drizzling outside, obscuring my view, but not enough to where I can’t see the scraggly bitch walking across the small parking lot.

We’re sitting across the street from a small, nondescript autobody shop. The stupid cunt finally brought his car here to get fixed after two years. How fucking stupid can he be? Luckily for us, he doesn’t know one traffic cam caught him as he fled away that early morning—right outside of Le Grande.

It took Mike a while to be able to get the footage, but once he did, he sent it over, and we’ve just been waiting. And waiting. And fuckin’ waiting. Until now, when Mike called four days ago to let me know the local P.D.—who had a description of the car—caught sight of it while Trey was bringing it to this shop.

It’s been a whole lot of fucking luck and pull within the department here—along with a shit ton of money—but here we are.

I startle when the butt of my cigarette burns my lips. I release my death grip on the wheel to smash it into the ashtray, not realizing it was gone and now burning the filter.

I chance a quick glance over at Leo. His lips are drawn into a tight line as his eyes track every step Trey takes. I shift my gaze back to him and do the same, watching as he pulls open the door and steps out of sight.

“You ready?” I ask without moving my eyes from that door. It’s afternoon now, but the sky is covered in a thick blanket of clouds with the constant drizzle of rain, making the day appear darker. It’s dangerous to do this during the daylight, but then again, this whole fucking thing is dangerous, and I don’t really give a fuck.

It has to be now. As if on cue, “Berzerk” by Eminem pounds through the speakers, and I smirk, feeling my blood surge and a twitch in my cock.

“Yep. Let’s get this fucking bitch.”

* * *

We follow Trey back to his house, trailing a few cars behind. He takes us to the outskirts of Le Grande, to a run-down shack of a house with trash littering the sagging porch at the front of the property. The weeds surrounding his house are multiple feet tall, casting the majority of it in shadows.

Perfect.

I drive the car down into the shallow ditch and through the weeds, blocking it from the view of the road. I shut it off and lift my ass to pocket the keys. Leo tosses me a pair of black latex gloves, and I pull them on with a snap before settling back in my seat, staring out at the rain and overgrowth.

A sort of calm has settled over me, solidifying that this is what I’m meant to do. The monster inside of me is rolling, preening with excitement for what’s to come.

“Got the gas cans in the trunk. Rope and my knife…” I ponder quietly. I pull my knife out of my pocket, the one I bought specifically for this occasion. It’s all black, small, but not too small.

“I’ve got my knucks. Not that I’ll need them but…” Leo smiles down at the silver metal glinting over the stretched black latex of his hand.

“Phone off,” Leo reminds me. I pull out my phone and take a quick glance at the screen before turning it off and notice a text from Jax.

Jax: She’s good.

I breathe in deeply through my nose and hold down the lock button, shutting my phone off before tossing it in the cupholder. I close my eyes briefly as I exhale. Essa’s fine. It’s time for vengeance.

My eyes snap open. “We’re all set. It’s fucking time.” I sling the rolled rope over my shoulder, and we both step out of the car and into the weeds. We keep ourselves low as we trudge through the wet earth.

Our shoes make a quiet suction noise with every step we take, and we’re careful to watch where we put our feet. We meander through the overgrown grass, keeping ourselves crouched low, which is easier for me even though I’m taller than Leo’s big ass frame, but we manage.

Before long, we make it to the line of brush in front of the house where we settle down into even lower crouches, keeping our gazes locked on the front door and the singular cracked window a few feet to the right of it. There’s a soft yellow glow of light illuminating it, showcasing a blurred shadow passing occasionally as we wait in mutual silence.

“How do you want to do this?” Leo’s voice breaks through my concentration, and I blink the rain from my eyes before taking a quick glance in his direction. His gaze is still locked on the house, laser-focused.

“Maybe go around back and see if there’s a backdoor or something. If there is, one in front, one in back.”

“On it.” For his size, he moves with stealthy grace, and I feel the smallest tilt to my lips as I watch him make his way around back. He taught me almost everything I know about this, but to finally be able to watch him in action again after all this time is exhilarating.

Leo may have a sweet spot for those he loves, but when it comes down to it, he’s one brutal son of a bitch. He gets shit done, and that’s why he’s so fucking good at what he does.

I envy him and the ability he has to be who he wants.

Curling my fingers into my palms, I strain my ears as I stare forward, waiting for… anything, really. Before long, I hear his feather-light footsteps growing closer before his black-clothed form is next to me again. A thin sheen of sweat clings to his face and neck—much like my own.

“There’s a backdoor. Who’s taking what?”

“I’ll take the front. I want the motherfucker to see me before he goes running.”

“Of course you do.” I’m not looking at him, but I can hear the roll of his eyes as he says it.

“Shut the fuck up, Leo.” But there’s a smirk on my face. He knows how fucked up I am. The sick satisfaction I get from their fear, the blood draining from their face as the realization begins to sink in deep. But this man, Trey Conley. He’s fucking different. He’s even more personal to me than Jason—the man who abused me the worst way possible when I was just a fucking kid.

Not only did Trey almost take my baby doll from me, but he also took Essa’s sister and a part of her she can never get back.

She’s doing much better now. She seems healed, but I know there are still many days where her grief consumes her in unspeakable ways.

I’ve had to hurt her to help her in the only way that works, but since the pregnancy, that hasn’t happened, and I know it hits her even worse without the option to escape it all. Which is why I need to do this.

For me and for her. I just hope she sees it that way. But knowing Essa, she’ll make it as difficult as she fucking can because she’s a goddamn brat.

“Let’s go.” Leo’s words light me up and bring the heat I’ve been forcing down straight to the surface. He disappears off to the back of the house, and a low growl rumbles through my throat as I stand to my full height, walking directly to the front door.

I straighten the rope on my shoulder as I take the first step onto the sagging porch. The smell of mildew and rotten garbage hits me abruptly, forcing me to hold my breath and swallow down the bile that’s burning my throat.

Who the fuck can live in such fucking filth?

Someone who deserves to die, that’s who.

Gritting my teeth, I make each step to the front door deliberately loud. You can hear each thud of my boots against the pliable wood until I stop right in front of the yellowing, thin metal door that seems like it could blow open at the slightest sign of wind.

Curling my lip at the worsening smell of filth and decay, I knock three times. It shakes under my fist, rattling in the rickety door frame, and not two seconds later, I hear the clunk of Trey’s footsteps.

I can feel the blood pumping through my heart as his shadow through the window grows near. It beats wildly as the adrenaline pushes its way through every individual vein in my body at inconceivable speeds.

I lick my lips, the anticipation making my cock twitch in my jeans.

Goddamn, I fucking missed this.

The door opens with the sound of metal scraping on metal, and my death-hungry gaze lands on the putrid piece of shit who is staring at me with confusion.

“Can I help you?” he asks with one disgusting, bushy brow raised in question. I smirk and take a step forward, just inside the pathetic metal door frame. I have to hunch to fit my six-foot-four frame through, but if anything, it only makes me appear that much larger because the revolting man I’m staring down at is quite literally staring up at me with wide eyes and an agape mouth. He comes to my chest, seemingly around the same height as Essa.

What a pathetic excuse of a man.

“What the—Get the fuck out of my house!” He places his palms on my chest and actually tries to shove me backward. My brows draw together as I glance down at his disgusting fucking skin touching me and back to his face in disbelief.

My lip curls in disgust at him daring to fucking touch me. I press my palm to his greasy forehead and shove him. He stumbles backward, tripping in a hole in the floor and tumbling down. His head cracks against the peeling, yellow-stained linoleum floor as his limbs flail.

I watch with amusement as he grapples for anything that might be surrounding him. For what? I don’t know because he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere.

Finally, he manages to straighten himself and make it to his feet. He stumbles all the same, and I watch with a smirk curling my lips as he yanks the even worse for wear back door open, only to see Leo standing there with his broad arms crossed over his chest and a look on his face I wouldn’t want directed towards me, that’s for sure.

His expression is nearly blank with the exception of the slightest curling of his upper lip. But it’s his eyes that are ablaze with murderous rage.

The dumb bitch actually tries to dart past Leo through the doorway, but when he takes a step, Leo swings his arm out and hits him right in the temple with his brass knuckles. Trey falls to the floor in a heap of useless skin and bones, causing the stale, putrid air to waft around us.

“My skin feels like it’s crawling just being in here,” Leo grunts out as steps inside of the small house, kicking Trey’s body to the side carelessly as he does.

“It reminds me of Essa’s house before I burned it to the fucking ground. Though this is definitely worse,” I reply nonchalantly as I glance around, searching for something we can use to put him in so I can tie him up. The back of a metal folding chair catches my eye, and I go about setting it up where I want it—in the middle of the room to give myself space to work—and then I uncoil the rope that had fallen into the crook of my arm.

“What’s the plan here?” Leo asks as we drag him to the chair, me holding his legs and Leo, his arms. The thin coat of grease and sweat coating his skin makes it hard to grip him, and he keeps slipping from our grasp.

“Oh, you know I like—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leo growls as Trey slips again, his head smacking hard on the floor. The cracking sound makes me smile, but I’m beginning to feel irate.

“Apparently, the motherfucker has never heard of a shower.” And for good measure, I land a swift kick to his ribs before holding my breath and hauling him into the chair. I situate him the way I want: legs forward and off to the side along with his arms. His head rolls to his shoulder as he slumps over, and I flick a quick glance up to Leo as I reach for the rope.

Wordlessly, he bends his large frame down to grasp Trey’s arms and hold his upper body in place so I can wrap the rope around him a hell of a lot easier.

“This is way fucking easier with two people.” I focus on quickly but efficiently twisting the tan, coarse rope around one ankle. Once it’s secure, I saw my knife through it and move to the next until every limb is tied to the chair in a way that will be very fucking painful once he’s conscious, to say the least. His hands are already turning a nice shade of purple, and I haven’t even begun.

“Well, what the fuck are you waiting for, Vin? Wake the bitch up.”

FIVE

LEO

I can see the glint in his eyes. The fucking sick thrill he gets from this. Somewhere deep down inside of me—a place I don’t care to recognize anymore—feels some way about it. But the me right here, right now, feels fucking elated.

It’s been too goddamn long since I’ve felt this. The raw hunger from a kill. From fucking revenge.

And oh fucking man, is revenge the sweetest of all. The taste of it on your tongue after you’ve been dreaming of it, day after day, hour after hour, every second until you finally fucking get it.

But it always goes too fast, no matter how long you spend on it. It’s never enough.

I swallow the lump closing my throat and shake my head. Not the time. Not the fucking place.

“We don’t have all fucking day, Vincent. I know you want to take your time, but this isn’t exactly well thought out.”

Vincent shrugs and slaps his hand across Trey’s face. His body twitches, in the throes of waking up, but not quite conscious yet. “Apparently, I’m impulsive when it comes to my baby doll.”

“Oh yeah? What the fuck ever gave you that idea?” I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Let’s see… You murdered her parents and then burned their house to the ground. You stalked her for months, beat the shit out of her… What was Dominik Reed to her? Her boyfriend? Fuck buddy? I’m still confused.”

Vincent’s resounding growl has a smile pulling at my lips. Such a fucking hair trigger.

The crack of latex against skin rings through the suffocating air and a high-pitched yelp makes my ears throb. How can one person be so damn putrid?

“Anyways,” I continue as Vincent keeps smacking Trey around, waking him up completely so he can really savor the pain he’s about to receive, “then you kidnapped her ass—again, I might add—brought her back to where she ran away from, then proceeded to literally stop her heart when you got the tiniest bit of information you didn’t like and snapped.”

I tap my latex-covered index finger on my chin as I mock ponder my next thought. “Anything I’m missing? I think impulsive is a bit of a fucking understatement.”

“Shut the fuck up, Leo,” Vin actually fucking growls at me, and a laugh bursts through my lips.

“Nothing to say?”

“How about you fucking help me with this piece of shit.”

SIX

VINCENT

Leo’s fucking babbling about Dominik has set my blood on fire. I’m feeling antsy—and not in a good way.

Thoughts of Dominik motherfucking Reed never fail to set something off inside of me. Something… insecure. Because Essa loves him, I know she does—even after all this time. I can now acknowledge that and recognize it for what it is—a love for a friend who saved her life in many different ways, and vice versa—but it still doesn’t erase the image of his fingers on her. The sound of her breathy moans. The way she…

“Fuck!” I swing my arm down, and the blade of my knife sinks four inches deep into the flesh of Trey’s thigh. If he wasn’t fully awake before, he sure as fuck is now. His high-pitched wail sounds loudly through the house, and Leo is quick to swipe up a crusted T-shirt from the floor and shove it into his mouth, past his molars, until he’s gagging on it.

“Don’t choke him,” I point out as I twist the knife in Trey’s leg. His scream is muffled by the shirt. Leo pauses, hand still shoved in the guy’s mouth to glare at me. I pin him with a scowl of my own, not backing down.

“You think I don’t know how to do this, huh?” He pulls his hand away and straightens to his full height. I press down on the handle of my knife in Trey’s thigh as I stand to match Leo’s stance. Trey screams out, more blood soaking into his tattered sweatpants and dripping onto the grimy floor.

He needs to bleed more.

Leo takes a step around the chair, to the side of Trey, and his movement snaps my gaze to his. “Is the teacher feeling threatened?” I spit, and Leo sucks in a breath. I notice the subtle clench of his jaw, and I smirk, raising my brow at him in question while crossing my arms over my chest.

“Exactly that, Vincent. I’m your fucking teacher. Meaning I taught your punk ass everything you fucking know.” He steps up to me, his large pecs brushing against mine. He’s only a couple of inches shorter than me, so not enough to really make a difference. His hot, minty breath fans across my face, and the heat ignites my already boiling blood.

“True, but you haven’t done this shit in a long ass time, and your dusty ass is probably out of the loop.” I’m taunting him; I fucking know I am, but I can’t help it. He’s so goddamn… parental sometimes, and I can’t fucking stand it.

“You don’t know shit about shit, Vincent,” he grumbles, turning away from me. I lean back, affronted.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask, my voice rising. What the fuck is he insinuating?

“Don’t fucking worry about it. We’re here for an entirely different reason. Not for you to butt heads with me. Or did you forget that amongst your rage issues?” With that, Leo swings his arm out and smacks Trey across the face. His head snaps to the side as a long, muffled groan breaks the tension.

Leo’s right—for once. This isn’t the time nor the place. But that sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m going to forget what he said. I’ll get it out of him one way or another.

“So, Trey,” Leo starts, and I step back with my arms still crossed, smirking at Trey as he darts his head back and forth between me and Leo with wide eyes. I can see the liquid pooling in them before falling down his dirty face, creating streaks as he blinks rapidly.

“I’m assuming you have no clue who we are, yeah?” Leo nods and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, no clue who we are. But that’s half of the fun, is it not?” He rounds the chair to face Trey and leans down in a crouch, resting his tattooed forearms on his knees as he peers at him, cocking his head to the side.

“Bold of you to even touch him. I can still smell him from here,” I say conversationally, and Leo laughs.

“I’m definitely going to throw up later.”

A laugh bursts from my lips before I can hold it back. “Nah, you’re going to throw up after you smell his burning flesh.” Leo’s response is muffled by the ridiculous scream tearing through Trey’s throat. His eyes bulge comically, and he tries twisting in the chair, flailing his body—or at least making an attempt to.

The rope keeps him secured, so instead, the metal feet of the chair scrape against the linoleum as he tries to throw himself out of it. Leo stands and steps back just as it teeters to the side and crashes to the floor. Trey grunts as he hits the floor, and the side of his face smacks against a stack of moldy magazines placed haphazardly.

The T-shirt in his mouth falls out, and the volume of his wailing increases tenfold. “Please, please, please! I don’t know why you’re here! Let me go! I didn’t do anything!”

“Ugh,” Leo groans, giving me a look that says “really.” I chuckle.

“Trey, Trey, Trey.” I reach down and grab the left side of the chair, pulling it back in place. His body jerks to the side as the chair is placed back on all fours. “Tell me. What have you done recently? Something that was probably pretty fucking stupid of you, but really lucky for us?” I quirk a brow at him as he absorbs my words.

“Wha-what? What are you talking about?” He shakes his head back and forth so fast, I’m sure he’s giving himself whiplash.

“It’s okay, I’ll give you a second. Just take those two brain cells of yours and rub them together real good, and I’m sure you can come up with something.”

He stutters, his mouth gaping like a fish, giving me a flash of his yellow tongue and equally yellow teeth. I can’t resist cocking my fist back and planting it right into his fucking mouth a few times. The crack of his jaw resounds through the room, along with his scream. Leo is right there, stuffing the shirt back in his mouth to muffle it, and I smile.

“We’re a great team.”

“Shut up, Vincent.”

“You love me.” I face Trey again and watch the blood drip from the corner of his mouth. I curl my hands into fists and physically hold myself back from killing him right fucking now. “Figured it out yet?” I tap my foot impatiently. Every fucking time, I plan to draw it out, to make them all fucking suffer for what they did; Essa’s parents and now him, but as I’m standing here, finally able to do it, all I can see, all I can fucking feel is the rage. The hunger to watch them die.

Because he can’t answer audibly, he shakes his head back and forth a dozen times. My lips curls. I grip the handle of the knife still in his leg and yank it up. Trey throws his head back in a grunt of pain as blood pulses from the wound. I slam it down again, in a new spot before pulling it up and doing it again. And again. And a-fucking-gain.

I’m in a trance as I mutilate his legs, switching back and forth between them. When I finally pull away, my chest is heaving, sweat pouring down my face and stinging my eyes. I step back, taking in the sight before me. Blood, gaping, shredded wounds, and a seemingly lifeless body.

Goddamn. I’m a fucking fiend for this shit.

“What—”

“He passed out about two minutes ago,” Leo adds conversationally, and I snap my gaze to him. He’s standing a few feet off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest as he observes me with an intense gaze. “You good?”

“Mhm. Great.”

“Good. Wake him up.”

“You don’t want to?” I ask. “Don’t want to get out any of that pent-up anger that I know you’re shoving down?”

“No, Vin. This is all you.”

I nod, accepting his answer for what it is. He knows I need this. “Get me a bucket, or fucking something, with cold water?” Leo nods and goes searching for it while I stand in front of this piece of shit, glaring at him while I wait. My eyes trace the blood dripping down his mangled jaw. The way his face is swollen almost past recognition. I take in his legs, the way I know he’s bleeding out.

Time is quickly running out, and while I should be mad that I lost control, I can’t be. The monster inside me is fucking purring, and it feels so fucking good. I feel like I can finally breathe again. Well, I would if I could actually smell something other than the pungent odor of this man and his pathetic excuse of a life.

Leo comes into the room and drops a five-gallon bucket at my feet. Water sloshes over the side, narrowly missing my feet. There’s no handle, so I lean down and grip the sides. I glare over at Trey, an idea coming to me. “Actually, I have a better idea. Leo, could you grab this?” I glance over at him, and he steps up, taking the bucket from me. “Set it on his legs and hold it there.”

He does it without a word and when the heavy weight of the bucket presses against Trey’s wounds, he lets out a whimper, stirring. “Ready?” I ask Leo, and he nods, tightening his hold. I’m sure he can easily guess what I’m about to do.

I grab the back of Trey’s neck and push his head down. His arms strain against the rope as I force his upper half down until his face reaches the water. The opening of the bucket isn’t large enough to allow his entire head to fit under, his neck stopping against the rim, but it’s enough for his face to be submerged.

I shove his face under the surface of the water. His body instantly jerks, and his shoulders rise as he sucks in a breath, but instead of getting the air he desperately needs, he breathes water into his lungs. His head wrenches to the side as he fights against my grip. Water splashes in every direction, soaking my shirt and pants.

With a grip on the back of his greasy hair, I yank his head out of the water. He heaves, gasping for air, making high-pitched whining sounds. My lip curls in disgust as I shove his head back down. He fights me harder this time, and as I hold him, the muscles in his neck bunch and strain under my palm as he resists with everything in him.

It’s not much.

“Cry baby bitch,” I scoff.

I look over at Leo. His entire shirt is soaked since he’s level with the bucket, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s glaring at Trey, a dark gleam in his eyes.

I yank up on his hair again, waiting about twenty seconds before I slam my blade into the soft flesh just below his clavicle. He lets out a piercing scream. With a swift pull of the knife, I yank it out of his flesh and shove it into his mouth. Not all of the way, but enough for the blade to rest along his tongue, immediately getting his attention.

His eyes dart to mine, watery and dull, and I smile. “Remember my question? The one I asked if you remembered anything stupid you’ve done recently?”

“Nngh, nngh.”

I sigh and pull the blade out from between his lips. “What was that?”

“No, no! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he sobs hysterically, snot and tears rolling down his face through the caked-on grime. I roll my eyes.

“Hmm,” I let out a breath and tap the tip of the blade against his forehead. “That’s a shame. Let’s see if we can refresh your memory.” I trail the blade down his nose, piercing the apex of it with the tip as I drag it down.

“You don’t remember taking a car to a repair shop? The very car you picked up today from said shop and drove back here? Let me ask you,” I grab the shell of his ear and shove the knife through it. The skin splays open as I work the knife through the outer layer of skin, peeling it from his body. As soon as the flesh is detached, I grab the back of his neck once more and shove his face in the water, his scream quickly changing to a gurgling noise as he sucks water into his lungs.

Leo grunts as Trey’s face smacks against the side, almost knocking it over. “Fucking Christ.”

“Having fun yet?” I ask with a smile in my voice.

“Loads, actually. I forgot how much of a sick bitch you are.”

“I’m fun, aren’t I?”

“He’s going to drown if you keep him in there.”

I glance down and notice Trey is barely moving. “Ah, shit.” I yank his head up and smack him a few times to bring him back to the now. “Not yet, bud. I’ve still got some time with you.

“Please,” he mumbles pathetically. “Please let me go. I didn’t—I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say. So, you’re telling me you didn’t crash into a car over two years ago just outside of Le Grande? You’re telling me you didn’t fucking drive away from the goddamn scene and leave my baby doll to fucking die?! You’re fucking telling me you didn’t fucking do that?!” I’m screaming, spit flying from my lips and mixing with the blood, tears, and snot on his face.

He gapes at me like a fucking fish, absorbing my words. But I can see when it finally fucking hits him. When he realizes why I’m here. What he fucking did.

His already bloodless face turns a ghastly shade of white. He stammers, but I shut him up by giving him another dunk in the now red-tinged water.

“Well, at least now we know it was definitely him.”

“Hmm,” I scoff. “Still would have killed him even if it wasn’t.”

“I know.”

I let go of his head and let him resurface on his own. With a nod at Leo, he pulls the bucket from Trey’s mangled lap and places it on the floor at his feet. “Can you go get the gas cans?” I ask. Leo doesn’t answer, but I hear the rickety front door close with a scrape of metal on metal, giving me my answer.

I glare down at the babbling, pathetic mess that is Trey fucking Conley. The piece of shit that left my baby doll and her sister to die. That’s the fucking reason my goddamn baby is dead—

I suck in a breath through my teeth, the sting of it still as raw as the day I found out.

This is for my baby doll. But this is for me, too.

I need it.

It’s fucking time.

My grip on the handle of the knife tightens significantly as the anger for all of this shit rushes through me. For my lies. My treachery. The fucking damage I did because of it all.

I harshly swallow the bile rushing up my throat, and without a second thought, I step forward and bring the tip of the blade to his eye. With my free hand, I grip his scraggly hair, holding him as still as I can with his head whipping back and forth.

He whimpers, begging me for his life. “Please don’t do this. I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, ple—” I smile when I sense the dark wave of death looming just above as I shove the knife into this eye socket—the exact same way I killed Essa’s parents.

Seems fitting.

I step back to admire the mess in front of me. Blood, mangled flesh, a sorry excuse of a fucking man.

Only thing missing is the smell of his burning flesh.

The sound of the front door opening has my gaze snapping to Leo’s large build maneuvering through the door frame with two gas cans in each large hand. “Think this will be enough?”

“Yep. This place could burst into flames with a single ember landing on the floor.” He holds out two of the cans but as I try to take them, he doesn’t release his grip. My gaze snaps to his, finding him staring at me with that fucking look. The parental one and I want to vomit.

“How do you feel?”

“Oh, fucking Christ, Leo. How the fuck do you think I feel? This isn’t goddamn therapy.”

He just stares at me, seemingly right fucking through me, to the mess of a man I’m standing in front of. “If you say so.”

“I do. Quit being so fucking chatty, and let’s get this shit done. I miss my baby doll.” Leo laughs, then sighs and walks toward the back of the house. I hear the guzzle of the gas pouring from the nozzle, and it’s not long before the fumes begin to mingle with the stench seeped into every inch of this shit shack.

Holding a can in each hand, I stare at what’s left of Trey Conley. Slumped over, head sunk forward with his broken jaw touching his chest. The muscles and stringy tendons in his legs are exposed through the torn cloth of his pants.

This man, who caused so much motherfucking shit, is gone. Just like that.

I feel fucking elated.

I whistle happily as I douse him in gasoline, soaking every inch of him, the chair, and the entire floor around him. Once one can is empty, I throw it to the side and use the other to douse the garbage and decrepit furniture until it’s gone.

My head swims from breathing in the fumes, but I welcome the smell. Anything is better than the fucking stench of B.O. and rotten garbage.

“You got the matches?” Leo asks, and I nod, patting my pocket for them. I pull out the book and tear one off. Leo steps out into the night as I swipe the matchstick over the strip to ignite it. With a deep inhale of sulfur, I smile as it burns my nostrils.

With my eyes locked on the glow of the small flame, I toss it and watch as it sails through the air before landing on Trey’s body. The immediate, hot whoosh of fire shoots out, flames licking at every available surface, crawling their way around the house. Fucking devouring everything in sight.

I breathe in again, this time smelling what I didn’t truly realize I was craving until this very moment. His flesh. Burning. Charring a deep black right before my eyes.

The smile on my face is unmatched as I witness it all unfold. But it never lasts long enough. The threat of smoke and well, burning down with the house, kicks my ass in gear, and I hightail it out of there without a backward glance.

Meeting Leo back at the car, he’s in the driver’s seat, a cigarette already between his lips. I plant my ass in the passenger’s seat, and before I can even get my door shut all the way, he’s shoving a lit cigarette into my hand.

“Thanks,” I grumble, sucking in the nicotine. It’s heady—the smell of gas and cigarettes lingering. After placing the cigarette between my lips, I rip off my gloves and shove them into my pocket.

“Let’s go,” I rasp with a nod. Leo starts the car, and we drive a few hundred feet through the shallow ditch before gaining speed and pulling back onto the road. I keep my gaze locked on the burning house in the rearview mirror, watching the flames devour every last inch of it while black smoke curls into the air, thick and pungent.

SEVEN

JAX

“Goddamnit, Vincent! Answer the fucking phone!” I scream hysterically. My phone falls from my hands as I reach for my hair, tugging the strands in a desperate plea. A plea for what, I don’t fucking know anymore. For Essa to be okay. For one of those fuckers to answer the phone when I call. Fucking something! Anything!

I fall into one of the chairs in this wretched waiting room where I’ve been for the last three hours. Waiting.

My eyes burn, and a sob escapes my lips as I lose it all over again.

This cannot be happening. It can’t.

I release my hair, my scalp burning from my constant abuse. I blindly reach for my phone on the floor, but when I glance down, all air is sucked from my lungs. Red stains my hand, thick enough to almost cover my tattoos completely—that’s how much there is.

“Oh, fuck.” I retch, vomit spewing up my throat. It burns as it rips from my mouth, covering the floor in front of me. My stomach rolls and clenches painfully as I heave uncontrollably. Sweat trickles down my spine, burning a path in my skin.

Finally, the pain subsides, and I’m able to sit back in the uncomfortable chair. I rest my head in my palms, focusing on breathing, on what to fucking do because right now, I’m utterly clueless.

I fall to the floor and barely even register my knees cracking on the thin, worn-down carpet. The tears flooding my eyes blur my vision, but somehow, I’m able to find my phone. I clutch it to my chest like a lifeline, forcing myself to hold back the pain threatening to consume me.

I need to keep it together. I fucking have to. For Essa and the baby. God, I fucking hope they’re okay.

With trembling, blood-stained hands, I light up the screen on my phone and dial Leo’s number this time. I’ve been switching back and forth between the two of them since we arrived at the hospital in the ambulance, and they took Essa away.

I figured that one of them would have answered by now, but no such luck. And I don’t know what else to do. They’re off the grid. Doing what the fuck they do even though Leo promised me he was done.

He’s such a goddamn liar. It’s why I left to begin with. I couldn’t do it. But of course, I came crawling back—on my goddamn knees for him, too. Like he even deserves it.

I hold the phone up to my ear and listen to the dull, endless ringing. It eventually cuts off to his voicemail, and the sound of his gruff voice saying his name, “Leo,” unwittingly has my dick twitching.

“Ugh,” I shout, lurching to my feet, but hitting redial, nonetheless. Over and over, I switch between Vincent and Leo’s numbers, trying the only thing I know how to do right now. Feelings of hopelessness and worthlessness swirl around inside of me, battering me until I’m nothing but a bloody pulp on the inside.

Defeated, but still trying because there’s no other option, I slide down a wall until my ass thuds on the floor. I draw my legs up and rest my forehead on my knees. After placing my phone between my legs, I hit the speaker button as I redial for the umpteenth time.

“Please be okay, baby girl. Both of you. Please be okay. Please.” My hoarse voice turns to a scratchy whisper as I plead over and over until, eventually, I have nothing left but utter despair.

EIGHT

VINCENT

“Fucking sick of being scrunched in this car,” Leo bitches as he turns down my long, gravel driveway.

“The fuck are you bitching about? I’m taller than you.” I exhale the last drag of my cigarette and smash it in the ashtray before turning and shooting Leo a scowl.

“By two fucking inches. That ain’t shit. Plus, I’m driving so I can’t stretch out like you.” He nods in my direction.

I scoff, “Okay.” I glare out of the window, watching the trees blur into the night as we pass them, moving slower and slower as we do. My brows bunch for a moment before I turn to Leo. He’s smirking to himself, casually tapping his thumb on the steering wheel, whistling along to P.O.D.’s “Youth of the Nation” playing on the radio.

“Would you hurry the fuck up—you’re practically crawling down the road. I want to get home and fucking shower the filth off. It feels like it’s… in my fucking skin,” I growl. “I thought you were tired of being ‘scrunched in this car.’”

“Oh, I am.” His smile widens. “I just love pissing you off.”

Oh, really.

I raise my arm and reach over to slap Leo upside his head. He jerks forward from the force, his face an inch or two from smacking into the steering wheel. His foot slams on the breaks, and the car lurches to a stop. He balks at me. “Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Oh, I just love pissing you off,” I mock him. He stares at me, his eyes wide with surprise. As quick as lightning, he grabs ahold of the hair at the nape of my neck in a tight grip and yanks my head over to him to snarl in my face. He glares at me, his nostrils flaring. My scalp stings from his grip, but I let it fuel my irritation. Getting under his skin is one of my favorite pastimes.

His warm breath fans over my face, making my skin heat to an uncomfortable level. Just as I’m about to shove him away, he smirks. “Fucking smartass.” He lets go of my hair and settles back in his seat, hitting the gas so the car starts back down the drive.

“Let’s go. You fucking stink.”

I snort. “Says you.”

A few minutes pass, and we’re pulling in front of the house. It’s pitch black outside, only the slightly obscured view of the stars above lighting the way. Leo throws the car in park and jumps out. I follow him, and we both make our way up the stairs to the house.

“You think they’re sleeping?” he asks, and I nod.

“Probably. What fucking time is it anyway?”

Leo glances down at his wrist before he realizes he’s not wearing his watch. “My phone’s still in the car. I’ll go get it.” I pat my pockets, noticing I don’t have my keys or my phone either.

“Hey, grab my phone and keys, too!” I yell at him.

“I’m not your bitch!” he retorts, and I roll my eyes as I step up to the door. He’s such a fucking jackass. I doubt Essa left the door unlocked, but… I grip the handle and the door opens with zero resistance.

Odd, but with Jax here, maybe she wasn’t as worried about it.

I step into the house, leaving the door open for Leo, and make my way into the kitchen. The automatic lights I had installed after we found out Essa was pregnant kick on, lighting the rooms in a subtle glow. She must have dimmed them—which she knows annoys me. Typical fucking Essa.

I don’t bother looking in the kitchen, instead, heading straight up the stairs to our room. Just as I make it to the landing of the stairs, Leo calls out, “Hey, is Jax up there? I don’t see him on the couch!”

What the fuck? Then where the hell is he?

I make a detour and open the door to Essa’s old room instead. If Jax isn’t on the couch, then he’s probably sleeping in—

Okay, so he’s not in here. I swear to fucking God, if he’s sleeping in the same motherfucking bed as my baby doll, I’m going to wring his neck. I don’t give a shit if he’s gay or not.

I throw the door open with so much force, it smacks against the wall. Gonna have to start replacing shit soon if I keep this up.

The lights come on, even dimmer than the ones downstairs, but still enough to illuminate the room. The empty fucking room.

“Baby doll!” I yell, fear and fucking anger flooding my system simultaneously. I run to the bathroom and lurch to a stop when the scene around me unfolds.

Blood. And water. Fucking everywhere.

“What the—”

“Vincent!” Leo’s gruff voice shouts, loud and deafening. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I stare unseeingly into the bathroom, at the mess I can’t process. Why the fuck is there water flooding the floor? And the blood. Why is there so much of it?

I step further into the room, ignoring the squeak of my boots in the water. My fingers trail along the cool porcelain of the tub, right over the blood staining it. I pull my fingers away and bring them to my lips. My tongue darts out and hesitantly laps at the blood coating them.

I groan involuntarily, my eyes fluttering closed at the taste of her blood on my tongue once more. It’s like a shot of heroin straight to my system. My cock turns to steel in my pants, instantly throbbing. I suck the rest of her blood off of my fingers and go for more when it fucking hits me.

It’s Essa blood. Essa’s fucking blood.

“Vincent, you stupid motherfucker! Get down here now!” I instantly recognize the fear in Leo’s voice. It sounds exactly the same as it sounded that day when I…

Fuck.

I spin on my heels and almost slip from the water, but I manage to catch myself with a grip on the edge of the tub. I use it for balance to push myself up, accidentally glancing down as I do. My stomach sinks, a pit settling deep and hard.

I swallow and blink rapidly, fighting the burn in my eyes. My hands land in my field of vision, and for the first fucking time, the sight of her blood on my hands has my stomach clenching painfully. Before I know it, I’m leaning over the edge of the tub and spewing the contents of my stomach into it.

A cold sweat breaks out along my skin, clinging to every pore, making me feel overheated and oh-so-fucking cold.

“Goddamnit, Vincent. There you are! C’mon, we have to go. Now!” Leo runs into the room and grabs my bicep, yanking me along with him. I stumble, moving on autopilot as he jerks me around like a puppet.

“Why’s it so quiet in here?”

“Fuck! No time. In the car!” Somehow, we make it to my car, and he’s shoving me in the passenger seat before slamming the door. He jumps in the driver’s side and shoves my keys in the ignition. My ‘69 Camaro roars to life, thundering beneath me as we peel down the drive, gravel and dust spitting out in a cloud behind us.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I don’t even bother asking, not really. I suppose, in a sense, it is a question, but I already know the answer. This is what I deserve. This pain. After everything I did, it’s how I always fucking knew it would end. With Essa leaving me or her dying.

I just always fucking hoped it was the former.

She doesn’t deserve death—she’s too fucking good for that. I’m the one that deserves it.

I let my eyes sink closed in defeat. I chant in my head—to whom, I don’t fucking know. I suppose to anyone or anything that will listen. Please don’t fucking take her. You can’t. Take me. Fucking. Take. Me!

A heavy sob explodes from my lips, broken and wretched. The tears I’ve been fighting fall fast and hot down my face, making my guilt and shame evident.

I fucking did this. Goddamnit, I always hurt her. Why the fuck do I always need her pain?!

“Vincent, fucking look at me!” Leo shakes me, the force rattling my fucking bones. It jars me, and I whip my head around, delirious. Everything around me is a blur. Nothing makes sense.

A sharp sting hits my cheek, radiating throughout my face. I suck in a harsh breath, using it as a focal point. My gaze finally fixes on Leo’s serious yet forlorn expression.

“Listen to me carefully. Are you listening?” He shakes my shoulders for emphasis, and I nod; it’s all I can give him.

“When we were back at the house, I turned on my phone as I was coming inside, and there were probably hundreds of calls from Jax. I called him immediately and he told me—” he cuts himself off with a shuddering intake of breath.

Fuck, please don’t let her be gone. I can’t survive it again.

“He told me Essa fell while getting out of the bath. He explained she was having some pain, but when she tried to get out, she slipped and… The rest he said was a blur. He called 911, and he’s been here with her ever since.”

Leo’s voice fades into the background. I’ve heard enough.

Jax is responsible for this. He was supposed to fucking take care of her while I was gone, and he failed. He fucking failed her.

Wind and rain pelt my face in the form of tiny needles as I beeline for the front doors of the hospital. The woman in scrubs glances up at me, startled.

“Essa Anthony. Where is she?” I’m breathless. Why am I breathless?

“And you are?” she asks, cocking her dark brow at me with her hands poised above the keys on the keyboard.

My hands slam down on the desktop in front of me, the resounding smack ringing throughout the room. “I’m her fucking husband! Tell me where the fuck she is!”

The woman doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. She instead looks back at the computer, clacking away at the keys. “She’s in labor and delivery—on the third floor,” she adds. “The waiting—”

Not bothering to wait for her response, I take off down the hall to my right. The elevators come into my line of sight, but I bypass them, taking the stairs instead. I grip the cool gray metal handle and try to yank the door open but the pressurized mechanism in the door keeps it from opening too quickly, and I end up running into it.

All the air leaves my lungs at the pressure, and I stumble backward, dazed. “Fuck!”

A strong hand grips my shoulder, steadying me, and I yank away from the touch, glaring behind me. Leo raises a thick brow. He opens his mouth, but I dart up the stairs before I can hear a thing. All I can think about is Essa. Hurt and bleeding. All fucking alone. All because I wasn’t there for her like I promised I would be.

I fucking promised her I would always be by her side, for whatever she needed. Whether that be pain, sex, to bleed, or just someone to curl up next to and watch cheesy vampire movies with. Fucking all of it. And I want it.

What if that’s all over now?

The thundering of my footsteps echoes in the stairwell, along with the skid of my boots as I round another corner, gripping the metal handrail tightly to keep my balance. My ribs ache from the rapid beat of my heart thundering against them, trying its best to escape its confines.

I swear on fucking everything if Essa doesn’t make it, I’ll let it. I’ll rip my own goddamn heart out of my chest before I live without her. There’s no other option.

I come to a halt at the top of the staircase where a thick, black 3 stands out next to the door. Without hesitation, I rip the door open and run through, stopping when I reach the nurse’s station. My lungs burn with every heavy breath I take, almost as if my body doesn’t want the oxygen it needs.

Of course, it doesn’t. I don’t want anything without Essa—not even my breath.

“Where’s Essa Anthony’s room?” I puff out. My eyes are crazed, darting to and fro, hoping I can catch a glimpse of her.

“I’m sorry, you—”

“I’m her husband. Tell me where the fuck she is!”

“Sir, please calm down.” The nurse’s voice is calm, pleading, but it does nothing but piss me off. How the fuck can I be calm right now? Obviously this bitch doesn’t know—

“Sorry, ma’am. Could you please tell us where Essa Anthony is?” Her small, doe eyes flicker back and forth between me and Leo. Quite the fucking scene, we are.

“Um. Yes, hold on.” Her gaze darts to the other nurse seated beside her before flickering to her computer screen. “She’s in surgery right now. There’s a waiting room down the hall and to the right where you can go until she’s out. I’ll be sure to give you an update as soon as I can.”

“What the fuck do you mean she’s in surgery?! For what?”

“Vin, calm down. They’re—”

“She’s having an emergency cesarean section, sir. I’ll update you when I know more.”

My eyes bulge, and I grip the high desk in front of me so fucking hard my knuckles blanch from the pressure. The monster inside of me unfurls, spreading through my limbs and slithering its way inside of my head, my heart, my entire fucking body.

“I swear to fucking God, everyone in this goddamn hospital better hope she makes it out of that room.” I growl the words through clenched teeth. Spit flies from my lips; I’m practically foaming at the mouth.

Strong hands clamp down on my shoulders, unyielding as they turn me away from the pathetic excuse for a fucking nurse and down the hall. “You need to not threaten the medical staff, you fucking moron. They’ll kick you out, and then you definitely won’t be able to see Essa. Or the baby.”

“Let them fucking try it. I’ll burn this place to the fucking ground.”

“Yeah, don’t I fucking know it,” Leo grumbles. If I wasn’t so fucking out of it, I would probably laugh, but as karma would have it, Leo pulls open the door to the waiting room, and who’s curled up in the corner, sobbing? Jaxon. Just the man I wanted to see.

The sight of him, all pathetic and crying over my fucking girl has my monster roaring. “You son of a bitch!” I seethe. I’m to him in six steps and hauling him off the floor with a death grip on his soaking T-shirt in the next. “You had one fucking job. To just take care of her!” I slam my head forward, and my forehead connects with Jax’s nose. A cry of pain rings out and he crumples in front of me, his legs giving out as he reaches for his nose where blood is now gushing from.

I tighten my grip and pin him against the wall. Jax’s head falls back, thudding against it as he stares at me with a lifeless expression. And it’s just now I notice the way he looks. His blue eyes are red and puffy, almost to the point of being swollen shut. His face is pale beyond reason, and he appears defeated.

He has no fucking right.

I growl, cocking my fist back to really make him feel the fucking pain he should for what happened, but my arm is caught. My upper half twists to glare behind me, and I’m met with a fuming Leo. His eyes are locked on me, narrowed and wild. “Get your fucking hands off him, Vincent.”

“Like fucking hell I will. He needs to pay for what he did to my baby doll!” My voice cracks when I say her name, and I swallow harshly, forcing the lump that has settled in my throat down deep.

“He didn’t do anything. He’s not who you’re truly angry at. So I’m not going to tell you again. Hands. Off.” His nostrils flare as we stare each other down, and his grip on my wrist tightens, reminding me I don’t really have any other fucking option.

I look away, back at Jaxon. He’s staring blankly at the wall just to the side of me, and I let him go with a scoff. With my grip no longer holding him up, he crumples to the floor in a heap, caving in on himself.

I bite my tongue and yank out of Leo’s grip, moving to the opposite side of the room. It’s best to keep my distance from Jax before I actually rip his motherfucking head off.

NINE

VINCENT

I’m wearing a literal path into the floor in this wretched waiting room. I scoff and glare up at the clock once more.

Twenty-seven minutes and thirteen… fourteen… fifteen… I force my eyes away from the clock that is slowing with every second that passes. Torturing me. Taunting me.

My gaze falls to Jaxon and Leo still sitting in the corner of the room. Jax is curled in on himself with his bloody hands wrapped around his knees, and Leo is sitting next to him, his large frame practically swallowing Jax’s whole, but I can see he’s clearly trying to comfort him.

Leo’s body appears scrunched with his head resting in the crook of Jax’s neck and his lips are pressed against his flesh. One of Leo’s hands is wrapped around his back, holding him close while the other rests on top of Jax’s on his knees, rubbing soothing circles into his skin and squeezing occasionally, almost as if he’s trying to reassure him.

Goddamn, I’m going to be sick.

I turn away from the sight of them and walk right out the door into the overly white hallway. The smell of all hospitals burns my nose, and my vision blurs. I fumble against the wall, gripping at nothing in particular to help keep my balance, but I come up short and crash to the squeaky floor.

My heart seizes, sending wave after wave of crippling pain through my body. I grasp at my chest, clawing at my T-shirt, trying to stifle the pain, but it only intensifies, consuming me, destroying me from the inside out.

My face is hot. So fucking hot, it’s melting off. My lungs squeeze out every last bit of oxygen, leaving them dry and screaming for more. My bones crack, splitting in half inside of my limbs. My brain turns to mush in my head, only working to send zaps of pain down my spine, reminding me how fucking alive I am.

My lips burst open, and the most wretched wail escapes, reverberating through the echoing hall. I slap my hand over my mouth, but it does nothing to stifle the choked sounds coming out of me.

The sounds of defeat. Of all-consuming pain. Guilt. My own treachery.

I can’t, I fucking can’t—

“Mr. Anthony?” My head snaps up so fucking fast, I can feel the jolt of pain shoot down my neck and spine, but I clench my teeth, forcing it down. My hands scramble against the floor, pathetic and weak, but I manage to get a grip and stand on shaky, unstable legs.

“Y-yes,” I stutter over the singular word, my tongue feeling leaden in my mouth.

“My name is Charlotte. Can you follow me?” I recognize her as the nurse from earlier, so I nod, and she leads me down a hall between two double doors that she opens with a swipe of her card on the card reader.

“What’s going on? Where’s Essa?” Every ounce of crippling pain is replaced with devastating hope.

“Essa is still in surgery, sir. There were some complications during the procedure with bleeding. But there’s something you need to see.” She pushes open another fucking set of doors, and I can feel my false sense of hope quickly morphing into rage.

“What the fuck is more important than Es—”

“This is your daughter, Mr. Anthony. She was delivered about twenty minutes ago and is in perfect health. She’s a whopping six pounds, four ounces, and nineteen inches long.”

Everything around me fades away to nothing. The useless muscle in my chest hammers away, breathing life back into me again, instantly filling my lungs with air. I clutch my chest once more, feeling the rhythmic beat under my palm.

I’m alive.

This is real.

This is fucking real.

“Mr. Anthony? Are you all right?” A small hand presses against my bicep, and I pull away from the unfamiliar touch. My eyes dart down to the small nurse in front of me, and my brows draw together, trying to remember what she said.

“What?”

“I asked if you were all right? Do you need to sit down? You look very pale.”

“Can I hold her?” I hold my breath, terrified of either answer I could receive.

“Of course. Follow me.” We both step into the small nursery. There are a few other bassinets with babies in them, but I only have eyes for one.

She leads me to a small, clear, plastic baby bed and steps off to the side. “Here she is. I’ll be right over here if you need anything.” At least, that’s what I think she said. I honestly couldn’t say for sure because the moment my eyes land on the tiny baby girl in front of me, I’m fucking done for.

If I wasn’t forcing myself to stay upright, I would’ve crashed to my knees the second my eyes landed on her. All of the breath is stolen from my lungs as I gaze at her—my baby. Our baby.

I bring my hand to her face but just before it makes contact, I freeze, Essa’s voice flooding my mind.

“You need to remember to wash your hands before you touch the baby and stuff. So they don’t get sick.” She points at the section in one of the many baby books she’s been reading non-fucking-stop.

“That seems like a bit fucking much, baby doll.” I quirk my brow at her while grabbing my tumbler of bourbon off the nightstand. I take a sip as I lean back against my pillow. She shoots daggers at me for my nonchalance, and I snort. “So tough, baby.” I’m mocking her, and she knows it.

She crawls across the bed on her hands and knees, and I bite my lip as I watch her hips and tits sway from the movement. Goddamn, she’s a fucking sight. Her belly is growing more pronounced every month that passes, and even though she’s only four months along, you can still clearly tell there’s a baby in there. My baby.

“You know how tough I am, Vin. And you fucking love it.” She crawls into my lap, and my hands find solace on her rounding hips. “Please just wash your hands, okay?”

I sigh but relent. “You know I will.” I’ll do anything for you.

She smiles, and her pale green eyes sparkle under the dim light of the bedroom. It’s times like this when I easily remember how bad I could’ve fucked up. She presses her front against mine and devours my mouth with hers, nipping my lip hard enough to pierce the thin skin.

I lower my hand and bring it back to my side. Chancing a glance around the room, my eyes land on a sink a few feet away, and I dart over to wash up. I’m still covered in filth from that motherfucker’s house, but this will have to do for now. I scrub all the way to my elbows to make sure I get everything, like Essa would’ve wanted.

Would want. Would fucking want, Vincent, you fucking idiot.

Nausea swirls in the pit of my stomach at the stark direction of my thoughts. I dry my hands and force the thoughts away as I hesitantly make my way back to my baby girl. The nurse that brought me in here comes to my side and glances down at the baby with me.

“Do you need help picking her up?” Her tone is soft, nowhere near judgmental, and I choose to swallow my pride because, at this moment, I need so much fucking help, it’s not even funny.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Please.”

“No worries. Go over to that chair and take a seat. I’ll bring her to you.” My face must show my confusion because she adds, “It’s a lot easier when you’re sitting down at first. You don’t have to worry about doing anything wrong. You just sit and hold her, and then, when you’re feeling more confident, you can move around. How does that sound?”

I don’t answer her with words, instead doing as she said and taking a seat in the surprisingly comfortable rocking chair in the corner. I feel like a big fucking oaf sitting here with my arms on the armrests, but before I can think too much about it, she’s placing my baby girl in my arms, situating her head just right, and stepping away.

“You got her?” she pauses a few moments for my answer but then says, “Yeah, you’ve got this. I’ll be over here. Just call for me if you need anything. And about your wife?” At the mention of Essa, my head snaps up. “I should have some news for you soon.”

I nod, so fucking thankful at this moment, I feel my throat swelling shut and my eyes burning with tears I refuse to shed, but they fall anyway.

I stare down at my baby girl’s face, so pink with a scrunched-up little nose. Her cheeks are round and puffy. Her head is covered in one of those ugly-ass blue and pink hats, but on her, of course, it’s adorable. I lift my hand and trail my index finger down her chubby little cheek, a smile blooming on my face when she twitches in my arms at the touch.

“How fucking beautiful are you,” I hum. I can see so much of Essa in her already. I push my index finger under the edge of the hat and lift it off her forehead. Dark brown hair covers her head, sticking up in little puffs. With a smirk, I pull it back down, trailing my finger over her skin again.

She’s so soft.

When I finally tear my teary gaze from her face, I take in the entirety of her. She’s swaddled in a white and blue striped blanket. It seems like it would be uncomfortable, but she’s just snoozing away, which means she must like it.

I’ll admit, I don’t know as much as I should, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. It all feels so fucking right.

But I wish Essa was here. She was supposed to be the first one to hold her. Skin-on-skin contact, she told me a few weeks ago. She said it’s important for the baby—for regulating temperature and connecting with them.

My eyes dart around the room, looking for the nurse that brought me in here. After a few seconds, her eyes find mine, and she’s over to me in a few seconds flat. “What do you need?”

I feel so fucking clueless, so helpless in this moment, and I hate it. Essa would know exactly what to do. But she’s not here right now, and I have to do it all on my own.

I fucking need her.

“Can I do… skin to skin?” I ask, and the nurse’s eyes light up.

“Of course, sir! Here, hand her to me, and I’ll get her ready.”

I glance back down at my baby girl, watching her twitch and make tiny little noises as she sleeps so fucking peacefully. A wave of possessiveness swarms me at the thought of having to let her go, but I push it down. I’ll have her in my arms again in just a second.

I scoot to the edge of the rocking chair and stand on surprisingly steady legs. I shift my arms until I’m cradling her head in my hand and pass her to the nurse. She smiles down at her before turning away and setting her in the bassinet. She then begins unwrapping the blanket from around her, and I watch all of it, committing it to memory for when I need to do it myself.

I hope I don’t have to do it all by myself. Essa needs to be here. I can’t fucking do this without her.

When the nurse finishes unwrapping her, she glances up at me and quirks her brow. “Sir, you need to take your shirt off, too.”

I blink twice before her words register. “Oh, right.” I grab the hem of my sweat and grime-stained T-shirt and pull it over my head. I toss it on the back of the rocking chair before taking a seat again as she brings my baby girl back to me.

“If you pull the lever on the side, you can recline the back of it a little bit so you can lean back. It makes it easier, and it’s more comfortable for her to be on your chest.”

I lean over the side and reach down, gripping the light-brown handle and pulling it. When it’s where I want it, I lean back and get comfortable. The nurse places my baby girl in my arms, and I tentatively bring her to my chest. She’s curled into herself with her knees almost to her chest and her arms tucked under herself, but when her tiny little head rests just under my neck, she squirms a little before settling again, and I swear on fucking everything, my heart swells so quickly, it’s about to burst from my chest.

The nurse places a blanket over her, and I move my hand to the outside of it, slowly rubbing her back. I look up. “I don’t remember your name, but thank you.”

She smiles back at me. “Charlotte. But you enjoy your time with your daughter. As soon as I have an update about your wife, I will let you know. It should be soon.”

I nod, appreciating her constant updates, and look away, back to my daughter. I can’t believe we made this—Essa and me. She’s us.

The need to close my eyes as the burning sensation in them is almost too much to bear, but I can’t bring myself to look away from her. I’m afraid if I close them, she’ll disappear, and all of this will just be a dream the monster in me conjured up to torture me in the worst fucking way.

My hand stutters on her back, the thought of that being real too fucking palpable. I swallow harshly and suck in a deep breath, letting all of the bad shit fall away.

I know this little creature needs me—just as much as I need her. And Essa would want me to put her first, always. But I can already see that won’t be a hardship. It’s already right fucking there—the urge to do anything and everything possible to keep this little girl safe.

She’s my hope. My fucking peace. She’s my… She’s my poppy.

Poppy.

My face aches from the persistent smile that refuses to dissipate. I maneuver her lower on my chest until her face is visible in my line of sight. Her tiny lips quiver as she sleeps peacefully, and I can’t resist the urge to press a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger on her skin as I breathe in the scent of her.

“My little Poppy,” I whisper, and my voice cracks. Fuck, this hurts. Essa should be here.

I keep my eyes locked on her as I let myself get lost in her. In this.

* * *

“Mr. Anthony?” I startle at the sound of my name and my gaze flies up to the nurse, Charlotte.

“Is it Essa?” The peace that had come over me quickly diminishes. I don’t know how much time has passed, but the once dim lights in the nursery are now bright, and there are a few other nurses moving about, checking on babies and doing things on computers.

“Yes. She’s out of surgery and in recovery now—”

“I need to see her.” I sit up in the chair, holding Poppy’s head carefully, and stand. The movement must wake her up because suddenly, there is a sharp cry piercing the room. I pull her away from my chest to stare down at her. Her little face is red as she cries, these little wails escaping her round lips.

She squirms in my arms, and I tighten my hold marginally, nervous she’s going to fall right out.

“I can take her.” Charlotte holds her arms out, and I take a step back, pressing Poppy against me.

“I’ve got her,” I growl out. She’s mine.

The nurse laughs, not the least bit perturbed by my words. “She’s probably hungry. Why don’t you feed her, and I can explain your wife’s situation?”

She gets me one of those premade bottles that all you have to do is shake and put a nipple on, then it’s good to go. I press the nipple to Poppy’s lips, and her head shakes back and forth, her lips and tongue making these tiny suction noises before she finally locates the nipple and sucks it into her mouth, swallowing greedily.

“Well, damn, baby girl. You really were hungry, weren’t you?” I give her my brightest smile before looking up at the nurse seated on a rolling chair in front of me. My smile falls, and I glare at her, waiting for her to speak.

She clears her throat. “Essa was brought in by the ambulance because she fell and was bleeding. She had a placental abruption which means the placenta detached from the inner wall of the womb. She went into surgery for an emergency cesarean section. The baby was delivered without complications and in perfect health which is a great thing for being born a month early.”

She smiles down at Poppy eating, and I squeeze her a little closer to me, overcome with pain at how I could’ve lost her.

“Your wife,” she continues, “had complications with bleeding. But they managed to get it under control, and she’s now in recovery.”

“She’s okay?” I ask, but it sounds as if nothing came out of my mouth with how breathless I am. Full of fucking relief.

“Yes, sir. She’s still asleep from the anesthesia, but she should be waking up soon. She’ll be sore and groggy, but we can discuss all of that later, if you’d like.”

“I need to see her.”

“As soon as she wakes—”

“I said I need to fucking see her. Now. And Poppy is coming with me.” My eyes dart down to her for a brief moment. Her sucking on the bottle has slowed tremendously, and it seems she’s back to sleep already. I pull the bottle from her lips and set it in the chair beside me.

“Let’s go.” I stand, cradling Poppy to my chest.

“Sir—” The nurse stands along with me and from the pinched look of her brows, I can tell she’s about to argue with me.

I take a step closer to her, but not too close so she can’t touch Poppy. “Let’s make one thing clear. This isn’t up for fucking debate. Take me to my wife—now.”

I watch the slow bob of her throat as she swallows before she squares her shoulders. “All right. Let’s put Poppy in the bassinet. It’s safer to move her that way.” I nod and place her in the tiny box-looking thing. The nurse wraps her in that blanket again, and then she’s pushing the thing out of the room; apparently, it has wheels.

I grab my shirt and pull it over my head as I follow her down the hall, right alongside Poppy. She takes a left, and about halfway down this hall, she stops in front of a closed door. She pushes the flat, silver handle, and the door clicks open. A steady beeping floods my ears, and my heart rate kicks up. I take a breath and hold it, letting the pulse in my ears reverberate through me.

I hold the door open for the nurse as she pushes Poppy into the room, and I trail closely behind, letting the door click shut.

One step.

Two.

Three.

And there’s my baby doll. I release the breath I had been holding. The beeping is the heart monitor. That’s her heart. Beating. Alive.

She’s fucking alive.

I run to her side, clutching her face in both of my hands. She’s pale—even more so than usual. Her black hair is sweaty and plastered to her forehead, so I brush it away with my fingertips and bring my lips to her nose, eyelids, cheeks, ears. Every fucking inch of her.

I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes, breathing her in. Feeling her.

“Baby doll,” I croak out, brushing my lips down her face to her mouth. They’re cold, but that’s not anything abnormal when it comes to her.

She’s always been so fucking cold. The ice that has always diffused the inferno inside of me. Except now? It’s nowhere to be found.

I don’t feel fucking hot. I’m content, comfortable. Sated.

“Baby doll, baby doll,” I chant, “open your eyes for me. Wake up and meet our baby.”

It takes a little while, but after talking with her over and over, never relenting, those long, dark lashes of hers flutter open. I’m met with bleary, green eyes, and my heart swells once more.

My fucking girl.

“Baby doll,” I breathe out, all of the oxygen escaping my lungs in a huge exhale. Seeing her awake is what I needed to finally accept that she’s okay.

Her eyes trail over my face before finally settling on my eyes. Hers well up, and I watch as tears trail down her face.

She’s always so fucking beautiful when she cries.

She opens her mouth, but before she says a word, I press my lips to hers. It’s not full of the usual lust and desire, but instead, of happiness. Relief. Fucking love.

When I finally pull away, her lips are pulled up into a smile. I return it, and her hand lifts, her fingers trailing over my stubbled covered face. “I missed seeing these.” Her fingertips dig into the creases of my dimples, and I roll my eyes. Of course, that would be the first thing she would say to me.

I press my face into her palm as she touches me, her skin cool and comforting. She feels like the only home I have ever known.

“Wanna meet our daughter?” I lift my gaze to hers, and her eyes widen, her hand dropping from my face to her now almost flat belly. She presses her palm to her stomach and then immediately cries out.

“Essa!” I growl and yank her hand away. “You can’t fucking do that.”

“O-our da-daughter?” she cries, and I nod, holding her hands between mine.

“Yes. Our daughter.” I look back at Charlotte, and she rolls the bassinet over to us wordlessly.

“I’ll be just outside if you need anything.” I nod and bring my attention back to Poppy. She’s sleeping soundlessly—well, almost. She makes these cute little grunting noises every time she’s sleeping, and I feel this weird, squeezing sensation in my chest.

I bend over and maneuver my fingers under her head and butt, then lift her into my arms. I twist back around to immediately place her in Essa’s arms. She rests perfectly against her, and I can’t fight the tears this time. Seeing my baby doll’s smile along with her unrelenting tears as she looks at our daughter for the first time?

It’s unlike anything I have ever felt in my life.

This.

This is fucking peace.

“Poppy,” I manage to whisper through the lump blocking my throat, and Essa’s gaze lifts from Poppy to me.

“Poppy,” she sighs, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Poppy Nirvana Anthony; I love it.”

I quirk my brow at her. “Nirvana?”

“Yep.” She’s back to staring at our baby girl, her smile never diminishing. If anything, it only grows bigger. Brighter.

“Poppy Nirvana,” I try her name out for myself. “Of course, that’s the name you would choose,” I laugh, and she shoots me a look that’s meant to be annoyed, but I don’t think she could be anything other than absolutely fucking happy right now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s perfectly you, and she’s also perfectly you.”

“Who knew you could be agreeable?” She peers over at me out of the corner of her eyes, an evil lilt to her voice.

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare,” I grumble. “Using the baby to get your way is a low blow.”

“As if you could tell her no, Vincent.”

“That doesn’t include you. I love telling you no, baby doll.”

“I think you like it even better when I fight you over it than the actual denial of anything I want.” She rolls her eyes at me.

I laugh, and it feels so fucking good. “I always have.”

TEN

VINCENT

“It wasn’t Jax’s fault, Vincent.” She won’t fucking stop arguing with me. Stubborn fucking brat.

“He was supposed to take care of you, Essa,” I growl.

“No, Vin. You were.” She matches me with a glare of her own, and I bite back my rebuke. Because, fuck me, she’s right. It’s been my job since I stole her away from her piece of shit parents—though back then, it felt like anything but.

I fucking failed her. Again.

“Fucking stop. I didn’t say that to hurt you. I only said it because, one, it’s true. But also because you need to get over your anger at Jax. Leo told me what you did in the waiting room. Which was bullshit, might I add.”

I’m standing next to the window, staring out at the rain pelting down, but one specific thing she said amongst the bite of her words has me spinning around to face her.

“Leo.” That’s all I say, but that’s all that needs to be said. “Of course, he fucking told you,” I grumble. “Heaven fucking forbid he keeps his mouth shut about anything.”

“Oh, you mean why the fuck you left me to begin with?”

I didn’t leave you, baby.

“So what would you rather me do, Essa? Fucking let him get away with it? With everything he fucking did?!” I’m losing my cool, and I know it. But goddamnit, how does she not see why? After everything?

“Of fucking course not!” she whisper-yells, glancing down at Poppy before glaring back up at me in silent warning to keep my voice down, I’m sure. I want to be pissed at her, but—goddamn. How the fuck does she look so venomous while holding a baby to her boob?

Her steely gaze is locked on me, and her mouth is set in a thin line. The fingers on her left hand brush back and forth across the back of Poppy’s head as she suckles at her breast.

She shouldn’t look so fucking hot right now, but I can’t help the twitch in my cock at the sight. She’s already such a good mother, just like I always knew she would be.

“It was dangerous, Vincent. What if you had gotten caught, huh? What the fuck would I have done then?”

“We share bank accounts, Ess. You and Poppy would be well off for the rest of your lives.” Her eyes bulge with shock before narrowing into green slits.

“I’m not talking about fucking money! You made the decision to leave. To go after… that man. And when you did that, you decided you were okay with possibly leaving me alone. Both of us.” She glances down at Poppy once more, and I’m forced to stare my decision in the face.

Fact of the matter is, she’s not exactly wrong—at least, not from her point of view. I didn’t think of it in that way, but that’s how it would’ve happened. She would’ve felt abandoned if something did go wrong. But I also need her to understand my side of this.

“Essa, baby. I—Fuck.” I run my fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands as I try to figure out the right way to word this. “I did it because of you. Fucking for you. He took your sister from you, baby doll. He took a part of you. A part of us. I couldn’t let him get away with that.” I chance a glance at her, only to find tears swimming in her eyes, every ounce of anger gone without a trace.

“Baby doll.” I’m over to her in two long strides. I gingerly take a seat next to her on the narrow hospital bed and wrap her in my arms, careful not to jostle Poppy as she eats. I run my fingers through Essa’s dark strands as she cries into me. I take all of her pain, like I always have and will continue to do for as long as I’m breathing.

Eventually, her tears dry, and her silent sobs dissipate. She lifts her head from the comfort of my chest and back is my fierce fucking girl.

“I understand.”

Those two words coming from her have me pulling Essa’s lips to mine and claiming her. Raw and hungry and so fucking loved.

I didn’t realize until this very moment that all I needed was her acceptance. Probably should’ve just asked her in the first place, but even admitting that out loud would mean Leo was right, and I can’t have that fuck rubbing it in my face for any amount of time. And I already know he would never let me live that shit down.

I pull away from her when Poppy lets out a few grunts. I look down at her to find her staring back at me with dark blue eyes and cute, chubby little cheeks. “She looks like you.”

“Well, she is me. And she’s you.” Essa trails her finger over Poppy’s cheek.

“She’s us.”

I take a good look at Essa, from her ruffed-up hair, pale cheeks, and deep circles under her eyes down to her hospital gown halfway open with one tit out and the corner of a bandage peeking through the side from her C-section.

“My little mama.”

I don’t mean to say it out loud, but it comes out anyway, and it has Essa’s instant glare softening into one of love, instead of anger.

Only she can glare with love.

“I love you, Vin.”

“Love you too, baby.” I carefully remove myself from the bed to grab my phone when Essa blurts out behind me.

“Can you please just fix shit with Jax? He’s the one that saved me. And saved Poppy,” she adds, knowing she’s got me hook, line, and fucking sinker.

I spin around on my heels, pinning her with a glare of my own, but she’s not perturbed in the slightest. My little brat.

We lock stares for a moment, and when it’s obvious she’s not going to budge, I relent. But only because I know it’s inevitable. And I did fuck up.

“Fucking fine.”

“Good because they’re on their way.”

“Of course they are.” I take a seat on the edge of the bed again and place my hand on top of Essa’s. “I—”

“Knock knock!” Leo’s gruff voice calls out, and the door to the room swings open. Both he and Jaxon walk into the room, with Jax hanging behind. I notice their fingers are interlocked, but when Jax spots me glaring, he pulls his hand from Leo’s grip and steps back.

Leo looks behind him and then at me. “Don’t fucking start, Vin.”

“Hey,” I hold up my hands, being a smartass, “I didn’t fucking say shit.”

“With your face, you fucking did,” Leo snarls. He reaches for Jax’s hand again and grips it tightly, pulling him into the room. He walks up to Essa and places a kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” I watch them silently. He acts like such a fucking father to her sometimes as well, but I know Essa needs it.

“Fucking tired. This little one wants to eat every hour, apparently. And my nipples fucking hurt.”

Leo barks out a laugh, brushing Essa’s hair back from her face. “Yeah, it’ll get better soon. Use nipple cream, and when she latches, make sure she’s latched correctly. If she’s not, you can—”

“How the fuck do you know all that?” I ask, balking at him. He’s spewing all of these facts like it’s second nature. I didn’t think he knew shit about kids.

He stares at me, his mouth agape. His face pales as he stares at me, and my brows scrunch together. What the fuck?

He quickly snaps out of it and shakes his head. “Just useless information I’ve picked up over the years.” His tone is low and off-balance, but I decide to let it go for now. I’ve got enough shit going on; I don’t need Leo’s weird behavior added to it.

I shift my attention to Jax as Leo goes back to telling Essa all this shit I’m sure she read about in her many books. He’s staring out of the window, but his hand is still clasped tightly in Leo’s.

“Let’s talk.” I incline my head toward the door before walking in that direction, and he releases Leo’s hand to follow me.

Once outside in the hall, I lean against the wall and let my head fall back against it. I hear the shuffle of his feet on the squeaky vinyl floor as he shifts from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.

Lowering my head to meet his gaze, I choose to ignore the fact that his pierced nose is swollen and bruised, along with his cheekbone. After letting out an annoyed sigh, I say, “Look. I’m sorry I fucked up your face. What happened to Essa wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

Jax scoffs and runs his fingers through his bleached-blonde hair. He turns around before turning back and pinning me with a glare. “I fucking love her. And for you to insinuate it was my fault was fucking bullshit, Vincent. I have done nothing but be there for her for two fucking years.”

“I know.” It’s all I can say because he has every right to be pissed, and for once, I don’t feel an ounce of anger, of anything other than contentment. “I fucked up, and I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”

“All good, man.” My eyes lock with his, and I can see the sincerity in them. Convinced all is well, we both make our way back into the room where I instantly go to Essa’s side. Poppy is done eating and all swaddled up again; she seems to be more content with that than to not be.

I place a kiss on her head and then on Essa’s. She places Poppy in Leo’s arms, and I burst out laughing. Leo’s eyes narrow as he glares at me, and Essa smacks me in the chest. The size difference is comical. Big ol’ Leo holding a baby so tiny that the smallest shift of his arms could take her out of view.

“Shut the fuck up, Vincent,” he growls but keeps his tone quiet so he doesn’t startle a sleeping Poppy. He stares down at her with love and admiration, and I can’t help my own smile.

Essa grips my shoulders and pulls me back against her pillows. I wrap my right arm around her and pull her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“You work shit out with Jax?” she asks, and I nod, resting my head against hers.

“Yeah, we’re good.” I look around the room. Jax is now by Leo’s side, peering down at Poppy with a smile wide enough to match my own every time I look at her.

She may not have the biggest family, but I know the four of us already love her more than any large superficial family ever could. More than anyone else ever could.

“Perfect.”

I glance at Essa, and she peers up at me, tears spilling from her eyes, making her green irises appear brighter than ever.

“You both are.”

And for the first time in my life, it all makes sense. Every piece of me I swore never fit, even after Essa, shifts into place, settling me down to my very fucking core.

I’m not ignorant to the fact that there will be bumps in the road, especially because I’m me—hotheaded and controlling—and Essa is who she has always been—feisty and stubborn.

But this, what we have, will conquer it all.

And I plan to fight for them both—until my last breath.

The End of VinEssa.

If you want more of Jaxon and Leo’s story, turn the page for an exclusive sneak peek into their book—Coming 2022!

QUIET IS THE NIGHT NOW

PROLOGUE

TWENTY YEARS AGO

Leo

My breath forms large plumes of gray-white clouds as I jog the long and winding concrete trail. I glance up at the inky black sky before looking down at the fancy athletic watch on my left wrist. It’s past three a.m. now and I know sleep won’t come to me after all.

I’m wide awake, my mind churning, my thoughts never stopping for more than a moment. It’s happening regularly now, but I can’t figure out why my brain refuses to lull me into deep unconsciousness.

My life is great. I’ve got my amazing wife, my wonderful son, and a job that pays decent enough that we’re able to afford Quinn’s dream home.

So why is it every night, I find myself on this trail, running until I can’t fucking breathe?

I slow to a walk to catch my breath as I reach the curve that brings me back to the gated community we live in here in California—northern Cali to be exact. We’re in what Quinn considers a “small, safe town,” but after being here for about a year now, I’m still doubtful.

I’m uncertain about so much.

It doesn’t feel right but it’s what she wanted, so of course I gave it to her. I’d give her the fucking world without hesitation if she asked me to. And I have—she just doesn’t know it.

With a grip on the hem of my damp gray T-shirt, I stop and raise it to wipe the sweat from my face. Keeping my shirt up to let the semi-cool air flit over my sweat-soaked skin, I press my palms into my bare hips, forcing breath between my teeth in a slow, methodical manner even though my lungs scream for more.

I pushed myself too hard attempting to make my body tired enough so I would be able to get a few hours of sleep before work for fucking once—but no such luck. Yet again.

But, of course, I’ll repeat the cycle tomorrow. And the day after that, and so on and so forth until my body finally succumbs to exhaustion, and I get a few hours of blissful reprieve before repeating it all once more.

I resume my steady walking pace now that sweat isn’t stinging my eyes and ignore the throbbing in the soles of my feet and backs of my calves. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, gaining my composure.

It’ll all be fine. Quinn and Harrison make everything I gave up worth it.

The thought of Harrison and his tiny, gummy smile has my own full and bright on my face. With a glance down at my watch, I quicken my pace: 3:37 a.m. If he stays on schedule tonight, he should be waking up within the next half hour to eat and I’ll get to see that smile. And I have just enough time to get in a quick shower in.

I look up as I round the bend and the trees obscuring my view shift to my peripheral.

Is that…

My brows knit together as I stare ahead at the billowing cloud of smoke rolling into the air. The streetlamps lined up every ten feet from each other along the road allow me to see how black and dense it is as it infiltrates the air.

My feet kick into a run on instinct once my eyes finally drop from the thick cloud to the source.

There’s a house nestled beneath the blackness; an eerily familiar house being devoured by dark orange flames.

Why…

Faster. Faster and faster I’m running, but my legs slow. The house pulls further away, so far it blurs.

Lights flash. Red. Blue. White.

Orange.

It’s hot—I’m sweating. But it’s not from running. It’s coming from somewhere so close, it’s melting my skin, singeing my hair. The smell is horrible. So horrendous, I can’t even describe it.

Burning plastic. Maybe burning hair.

My entire body is jolted forward as my feet come to a stop. I look down at my gray running shoes. I’m standing in a puddle of water that trickles down a crack in the otherwise smooth concrete between my feet.

Just as I glance up, I’m knocked to the side. My body flails, but before I fall, something grips my arm and hauls me upright. My eyes widen as I look around frantically, but all I can see is smoke; thick and pungent as it infiltrates my senses.

The lights grow more pronounced, filtering into my vision heavily until they’re all I can see. Those lights soon allow more people to appear.

My head turns from side to side, almost robotically as my surroundings come into focus.

People surround me at every angle. On every side. Some clad in thick suits, running back and forth so fast they blur into thick, dull-colored lines. Others are in what appears to be night clothes and ruffled hair.

For the first time in my life, I’m nailed to one spot, frozen in time. Everything in me has stopped, yet the world is moving at two times the normal speed.

I can feel my chest heaving, the rate in which it moves is excruciatingly painful. I must be breathing, but I can’t feel the relief of oxygen in my lungs. The pain in my chest radiates outward when my shoulders are suddenly gripped and I’m being shook back and forth.

My brain rattles around in my head, bouncing against my skull. I’m dazed as I stare forward at the blurry face in front of my own.

The shaking slows and the person’s face becomes clear.

Their lips are moving. I think they’re speaking to me, but I can’t hear a fucking word.

All I see is the stretcher. Two of them, to be exact.

They are both rolling down the slightly inclined driveway we’re apparently on. Water runs beneath the wheels as they circle round and round.

Two white sheets with lumps underneath. One fills the stretcher, the other; too small to even fit.

The edges of my vision blur as blackness creeps into my brain, like a curtain veiling a stage.

The lights, the sirens. Everything slowly disappears as the flames and smoke swallow it all whole.

Just as my heart stops beating in my chest, I can’t help but think how soundless death is.

All I ever wanted was for my mind to be silent, and now that’s all I have left.

Quiet is the night now.

Quiet is my night.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost: I need to thank you, my readers, for this little novella. VinEssa was supposed to end after Monster, but I think your constant love for these two made me realize they had just a little more to say. A little more healing to do, along with some painful acceptance.

So, thank you for loving my first babies and supporting me from the very beginning. I hope you all got the closure you needed—I know I did.

I, of course, also need to thank my family and my closest friends for their never ending support. Without them, writing would be impossible.

And music. I definitely couldn’t do this without it.

BOOKS BY MARIE ANN

Monsters In Us Duet:

Creep (Book 1)

Monster (Book 2)

Fiend (A Monsters In Us Sequel: A VinEssa Novella)

Standalones:

Fragmented Illusions (A dark psychological thriller taboo MMF romance)

Dominik’s Book: Inevitable Destruction (A dark enemies to lovers MM romance) Coming July 2022—preorder now!

Jaxon and Leo’s book: Quiet Is the Night Now (A dark friends to lovers MM romance) Coming in 2022—preorder now!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Marie Ann is a dark romance author who has a weakness for writing toxic and damaged characters. She survives on astronomical amounts of coffee and sarcasm. She loves all things deemed creepy and odd—the more twisted and taboo, the better!

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