“What have you done?” Vaughn accuses again.

He’s in a furious rage that would have once scared me, but I’m not afraid anymore. Gray asked me to be brave. Gray knew this would happen.

“The answer was always no,” I hiss at him. “You were never allowed to take from me. And now you’ll pay.”

Another pop.

My eyes close for just a moment, and then Vaughn’s attacking me. I screech and wriggle but halt my movements the moment hot blood gushes over my bare chest. When I reopen my eyes, I’m both horrified and elated in one single breath.

He’s dead.

Vaughn Brecks, the monster from both my nightmares and reality, is nothing more than a blown out skull sitting on an unmoving body. It baffles me how one moment the room is rippling with evil and the next moment it’s completely snuffed out.

He’s heavy, but I manage to push him off me.

My mother cries out in a raspy voice from down the hallway. On shaky legs, as blood drips down my naked body, I make my way to her room. Sadness washes over me the moment I see her frail form curled up in the bed. When she sees me, she reaches out to me as if she’s trying to hold onto a dream that’s quickly slipping through her fingertips.

“Momma,” I sob as I wobble over to her. I crawl into bed next to her as we frantically hug one another.

“Y-You’re really here,” she cries. “He told me you were coming, but that I wouldn’t live long enough to see you. Oh, baby girl.”

“H-He said he would kill you. That’s w-why I l-l-left all those y-years ago,” I stutter out through my tears.

“Shh, honey. Shh. You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” she coos.

I’m still hugging her when two strong arms grab at me from behind. I start screaming like a wild banshee but then fall limp when I smell him.

Gray.

He came for me.

He killed the monster just like he promised.

“I’m here, Violet,” he murmurs, his lips pressing kisses all over me. He covers me with a blanket and hugs me tight. “I’m always here.”

“I-I was b-brave,” I chatter out.

“I know you were. I never had a doubt.”

* * *

The past week has been a whirlwind. Cops. FBI. Dealing with my mother moving to the city. I’ve been walking around in a fog. If it weren’t for Gray, I’d have let all the stress swallow me up.

But Gray is more than the storm.

He’s also the calm within it.

With the patience of a saint and the smooth tongue of a sinner, he’s woven a tale they believe. His private investigator Dusty had all sorts of information on Vaughn. After Gray shot the men, Bull took the gun and casings with him. There wasn’t any evidence for the police to find. Not that they were truly worried about Vaughn and his goons. Once they discovered it was someone on the FBI’s wanted list, their efforts switched from wanting to find the killer to finding the missing women that were believed to be hidden away by Vaughn somewhere. I was able to tell them what I knew about his old stomping grounds and past residences. And with the intel they had from Dusty, they were able to piece together some locations. The same day Vaughn was murdered, the FBI found the warehouse where seventeen girls and women between the ages of fifteen and thirty were found. Most were drugged out of their mind. Many were raped beyond reason. All were rescued and returned to their families.

“Happy anniversary,” Gray murmurs, his palm cupping my breast as he begins kissing my neck. “You still leaving, little quitter?”

I roll onto my back on his bed and regard his handsome face. Once Vaughn was truly gone, I shed about ten pounds worth of stress. My life began to drip with color again. My favorite is gray.

“I guess my two weeks’ notice is up, huh?”

He slides his erection against my thigh. “You could always ask for an extension.”

I start giggling so loud that I have to cover my mouth so nobody hears. My mother has come to stay with Gray and me at his house. Gwen has been so good to both of us. I’ve missed Momma so much and getting to see her every day has been the icing on the cake.

“I’m happy,” I blurt out, hot tears quickly filling my eyes. “I’m happy because of you.”

A growl rumbles low in his throat and he attacks my mouth. Our kisses are needy and fervent. It doesn’t take much shifting before he’s driving deep inside me. He devours my lips to stifle my moans, so we don’t wake up the whole house.

As he fucks me, he lifts up to regard me. His icy blue eyes are sharp and focused on me. It’s my favorite thing about him. The way he watches me like a hawk. As if I’m the only thing he sees.

But he’s not like Vaughn.

Gray is good to me.

He loves me.

And I love him too.

* * *

Six months later…

“Here?” Gwen asks, her nose scrunched in question.

I frown and shake my head. “Over just a bit.” My back aches from all the work we’ve been doing. My sister-in-law made good on her vow to deal with her hoarding problems. With intense therapy and help from not only Gray and I, but my mother as well, she’s been able to clear out all her rooms. The church near her mom’s house has been helping us with the donations. It’s been a lot of work, but I’m happy to see Gwen working through her issues.

“You think he’ll notice?” she questions once the picture is hung.

I laugh. “He notices everything.”

We both admire the painting she’s been working on for weeks. It matches the décor of the room perfectly.

“I love it,” I tell her with a sigh. “What’s next on our list?”

She shakes her head. “Not so fast, missy. You need to rest. I promised Gray I wouldn’t work you to death. You know how he worries.”

“He worries way too much,” I say with a faux pout. Truth is, though, his worrying makes me feel safe. If it weren’t for him obsessing over my well-being, we wouldn’t be here today. I’d probably be drugged out of my mind in some warehouse once again under Vaughn’s thumb.

“I have two to worry about now,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me just as his strong arms wrap around my middle. I lean back against his solid chest. He palms my swollen stomach and kisses the side of my neck.

“How’d painting go?” I question.

“Bull can’t paint for shit,” he gripes. Our son rolls in my belly. “Oops, I think I woke little man up.”

I laugh and Gwen lets out a huff. “Umm, hello? Notice anything?”

“What? Did you cut your hair?” Gray teases her. I know he sees the painting on the wall but he likes to razz her.

“You’re an ass,” she gripes and points in exaggeration to the hawk painting.

“Looks good,” he tells her in an absent tone. “I’ll come inspect it more later once I’ve seen to it that my wife is taken care of.”

Gwen pretends to gag. “Gross. Go away. Bye.”

I’m scooped into Gray’s strong arms and finally get a good look at his face. White paint speckles cover his forehead and cheeks. There are even flecks all in his hair. He looks downright adorable.

“You’re a mess,” I tease as he carries me to our bedroom.

He smirks and kicks the door shut. “And you’re beautiful.”

When he sets me on the bed, he doesn’t waste any time stripping me out of my clothes. Once I’m naked, he steps back and lets out a groan.

“Goddamn you’re hot when your belly is rounded with my kid,” he observes, flashing me a smoldering grin.

I lie back so he can enjoy the view. He was right about everything. Being his wife fills one of those holes I had deep inside me. Carrying his child fills another hole. This life he forged for us is one I don’t ever want to lose.

“So beautiful,” he praises as he kneels on the floor and starts kissing my thighs. Gray is so thorough. He hardly misses a day where he isn’t worshipping every part of my body. His breath tickles along my flesh as he makes his way to the part of me that throbs for him. Once he reaches his destination, he kisses my clit. Softly at first. Then, he begins sucking and tonguing me until I’m writhing in pleasure.

I barely have time to recover before he’s pulling my hips to the end of the bed. He enters me gently at first but then thrusts into me raggedly as if he’ll die if he doesn’t get enough of me.

Don’t worry, honey, I’ll give you everything.

It isn’t until he comes with a loud groan and falls on his side beside me that my gaze falls on the chest across the room. My question is always the same. His answer is always the same.

“What’s in the chest?”

His palm finds my cheek and he turns my head to look at him. His mouth hovers over mine. “It doesn’t matter.”

And honestly, it doesn’t matter.

What matters is the man who’s now kissing me and the boy rolling around in my belly.

What matters is us. They are what I notice.

Everything else is out of focus.