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“Don’t worry. We’ll look after Harlyn. I’ll keep her safe and happy and loved because that kid deserves it.” His angry footsteps resonated through my body as he stomped back down the hall. My body jerked when the door slammed behind him and the sound of a motorcycle starting up and revving as it took off down the street chilled me to the bone.

I collapsed onto the sofa, my body cold and shaking.

I don't know how long I sat there, unable to move without risking my stomach contents spilling onto the floor. My heart told me to chase after him, that he was right, I needed to go to the club and ask for help. I was a lone soldier standing on a battlefield, not knowing which direction the enemy would attack from. I just knew they were there, they weren't just hiding in the shadows—they were the shadows.

A ringing filled the lonely, empty space of my living room.

I scrambled for the side table, not even bothering to check the ID as I held it to my ear.

“Hello?” I answered breathlessly.

“Oh, Anabelle. Oh… how I've missed you.” I would never forget that deep voice and sarcastic tormenting tone that he saved just for me.

My fingers dug into the sofa cushion, anger spiking inside me. “What do you want, Peter?”

He clicked his tongue with a chuckle. “Now, now. That's no way to speak to your husband.”

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