Page 37 of Twisted Tate

“Her name is Reese. And yeah.”

“Jesus Christ, Tate.” He exhales. “Do you know what the fuck you’re doing?”

“I know exactly what I’m fucking doing.” I hold her gaze. “And there isn’t a scenario where I’m giving her back.”

Silence. When he speaks again, his voice is different, like he understands.

“We’ll be there first thing tomorrow. Dad should be able to hold them off a bit longer. I’ll see what I can do in the meantime.”

“Thank you, brother.”

I know that Fox will do as I’ve asked. And we’ll bring Dad and Thorne in as soon as I get Fox to understand how the situation has changed. I don’t know what Reese is going to want to share, but having Ivy in her corner will be less intimidating than starting with a group of Sinclair men.

“Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got a lot to figure out.” Fox pauses. “And Tate?”

“Yeah?”

“She must be one hell of a woman.”

He hangs up.

I set the phone down and pull Reese against my chest. She’s watching me with those gray eyes.

“So he’s bringing his wife? I met her once.”

“He is.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “He and Ivy are disgustingly happy.” I smirk. “It’s fucking nauseating.”

She laughs, and I realize I want to hear that sound every day.

“Tate?”

“Yeah, beautiful?”

“Thank you.” She cups my face. “For fucking believing me.”

“You’re a survivor, Reese. Anyone who can’t see that isn’t worth a damn.” I turn my head and kiss her palm. “And I’m yours. Don’t fucking forget it, baby girl.”

She traces the bite mark on my shoulder. “Trust me. I won’t let you.”

I hold her while my phone buzzes with the messages I keep ignoring.

Tomorrow, my family comes. Tomorrow, we plan how to end this.

But right now, I’m going to fuck what’s mine.

Chapter 6

REESE

The nightmare is the same as it always is.

Hands I can’t see holding me down. Voices telling me to be a good girl, to stop fighting, to just let it happen. My father’s face in the doorway, watching with that cold approval that makes me want to claw my own skin off.

But this time, I surface before the worst part. Something warm and solid pulls me back.

I wake slowly. Soft sheets beneath me. Gray light through the windows. And something in my mouth that isn’t my own fingers.

My eyes fly open.