I can’t move.” I stretch my arms above my head and let out a long yawn.

“Sleep well?” Jax smirks knowing damn well he fucked me to sleep.

“Mmhmm.” Wow, last night was amazing. I’ll never hesitate to tell this man what I want ever again.

“Good.” He gives my ass a playful smack.

I yelp. “Hey.”

“Breakfast is being served on the bar. Bring your appetite.”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes. I need to shower. And I’m not sure I can get up.”

He smirks that sexy damn smirk of his. “Let me know when you’re out of the shower and I’ll carry you.”

“You don’t—”

He cuts me off. “Big day at the office and I told you breakfast is on the bar top.” He stares down at my pussy. “So shower up so I can eat before I go.”

I squirm just thinking about what he has in mind, and I want to be sexy for him. I feel so relaxed around him now, and my personality doesn’t feel as constrained. “That’s quite an appetite you have.”

“You have no idea.” He grabs my arms and tugs me up out of the bed then maneuvers me to the bathroom. “I’m fucking starving. Can’t get enough.”

When I step into the shower the warm spray of water feels like tiny pricks on my sensitive skin. I’m going to have to hit the gym if I’m going to keep up with him in the bedroom. I go through the motions quickly, eager to please him, skipping washing my hair until later.

I haven’t heard from Leonard at all and I hope it means he’s been served and will give me the divorce without a fight. Nothing has ever been easy with that man, though.

I slip on my robe and head down, wondering why Jaxson wasn’t waiting to carry me like he said.

I turn the corner and turn pale as a ghost.

“Oh my god!” Claire squeals in the kitchen. “Jenna.”

“Hey.” I give Jax the stink eye for not warning me. What if I’d walked down completely naked?

He shrugs, mouths the word ‘sorry’, and holds up a bagel at me. “She wanted to bring her big brother breakfast.”

I can’t help but smile because it reminds me of them when we were younger.

“I’m going to put on some clothes and give you two a minute.” I’m glad to see that they’re still close, and I head back to the bedroom.

As I put on what I’ll wear for the day, I hear them arguing and I already know it’s because of me. It was all a show earlier.

“Don’t you think this is fast? Shouldn’t you let the ink dry on her divorce papers before you move her in?”

My heart sinks into my stomach. I definitely don’t want to drive them apart or cause problems with their relationship.

“Claire, I love you. You know that.”

“Yeah?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t come in my house and tell me how to live my life. I love her. I don’t need my kid sister telling me how to manage my shit.”

“Sorry. I really am happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Don’t you remember last time?”

“Thanks for the concern, but I’m a grown man. She’s not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

“Okay. I can respect that.” She takes a step toward the door. “I’m gonna go. Tell Jenna I’m glad she’s back but if she hurts you again I will track her ass down.”

“Understood.” I see him smirk as he says it while I hide around the corner.

I wait for the door to close before I join Jaxson in the kitchen. I don’t know if he knows I heard them or not, and I take a bagel and spread some cream cheese across it.

His eyes flick up to meet mine. “You’re being quiet.”

I let out a low sigh. “I was thinking that I should start looking for a place soon.”

The knife he was using clangs on his saucer.

“What are you talking about? You live here with me.”

“For now, but we’re moving too fast. I should get my own place and we can date.”

“You’re not going anywhere. I just got you back. You’re probably carrying my child already.”

“Claire made a good point. I’m not even divorced yet. How will that look to the judge?”

“You heard all that?” He glares toward the door like he’s looking for Claire.

“Yeah.” I nod. “And don’t get all pissed at her. She’s looking out for you.”

“I know, but she doesn’t need to say shit like that. It’s none of her business.”

“Just calm down a little.” I take a bite of the bagel.

“I put your address down as the apartment next door. For the judge. No one will know unless you want them to. I know how to be a lawyer. What’s this all about?”

“I just hated hearing you two fight because of me. I don’t want to cause you stress with your sister.”

“She’ll be fine. She likes you. Don’t worry.”

I know he’s right, but I still have a sinking feeling in my stomach. “You know I love you.”

“I love you too. What are your plans today?”

I sigh at him changing the subject, but it’s probably for the best. “Need to get the insurance company on the phone and see where we stand on the claim on the house. Make a few calls about the charity and what I need to do to get it up and running.”

“Sounds good.” He walks over and kisses me only the way he can. “I’m gonna head to work.”

I already miss him when he walks out the door.

* * *

I’ve made a few calls, and everything is going much better than expected. The claim for the house is all in order and they’re going through the usual steps before anything gets paid out. I talk to Brooke for a little while on the phone and make a few other calls about the charity.

I stand there, staring out the window and taking in the Dallas skyline. My life feels like a fairytale coming true. The whole time, though, my stomach churns—just twisted up in knots. I can’t shake the feeling that life is never this easy. Not mine, anyway.

Every time I think I have the world in my palms, I get crushed. Maybe it’s the years of Leonard’s constant abuse. Beating me down relentlessly, physically and mentally, telling me I’m worthless. Not worthy of dreams or success.

I wish I wasn’t this way. I wish I could enjoy the amazing path my life has taken, all because I finally got off my ass and did something about it. Jax assures me all the time that I’m brave. That I’m worth something to the world.

It’s hard to take in, though. Some people just have a way of affecting you that I can’t even explain. It’s like my brain knows Jax is right, but I’m incapable of processing and believing it. I just have to take a deep breath and get through things one day at a time.

I walk to the counter and pour another cup of coffee. The smell wafts into my nose and gives me a little mid-day boost that’s desperately needed. It’s hard to stay motivated to get things done when you live in a penthouse, surrounded by beautiful things and so many options to be lazy.

I refuse to be someone like that. I need to be working, doing, going. I need purpose, and this charity will give me that. My phone rings and it’s a number I don’t know. Against my better judgment, I answer it, even though it may be Leonard.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Reyes?”

“Yeah?”

“This is Detective Brighton with the Dallas Police Department.”

My hand instinctively covers my mouth. What can this possibly be about? What did Leonard do or say?

I start to say something but he cuts me off.

“A process server was found dead earlier this morning. We believe he was serving your husband with divorce papers. Have you seen Leonard Reyes? Or have you heard from him?”

“Oh my God.” I stumble back a little and catch myself before I fall over. It’s like a million knives to the stomach. Would Leonard kill someone? He would hit me, but he would never explode. It was always cold and calculated, psychological manipulation. He made every hit count when he would beat me.

“Mrs. Reyes?”

“Yeah, sorry. No. Haven’t heard anything since the messages Weston gave the police. That was the last communication.”

“Okay. If you hear from him, we need to know immediately.”

“Absolutely.”

“You need to get to a safe place. We’re sending some of our guys your way to watch the building. If you need anything else, please let them know.”

“I will, thank you.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

The second he hangs up the phone, it hits me. I smell it.

A hand grips the phone in my hand the second my brain processes that it’s Leonard’s breath. Cold steel presses against the back of my head, and he slowly spins me around to face the barrel of a gun.

He smiles wide, and I feel like I might vomit. Nausea, anxiety, everything horrible a person could feel rushes to the surface. Cold sweat breaks out along my forehead, and my throat grows warm and salty.

He doesn’t look mad. Doesn’t look angry. He’s actually grinning at me the same way he did the night my father sold me to him.

His eyebrows waggle. “Honey, I’m home.”