It had only been three days, and Nikki hadn't left the club or apartment. Sam and Vanessa had been by to visit, but that was it, and Nikki was okay with that. She didn't want company. She wanted to remain hidden and invisible. Bret had been gone a lot, and she didn't know where, nor did she really care. Well, she did in a way, in a confusing, exasperating way, but with a mental shrug, it was what it was. She wasn't dead and hadn't been hit in three days, so she was more thankful on that score. The bruises had faded to a nasty purple and yellow highlight, and she probably looked like death, but again, she didn't care. She had no one she cared to impress.

She stayed locked in either the office downstairs getting his books in order or the apartment, trying to pretend her life wasn't as fucked up as it was. Her feet dragging up the back steps to his place, she sighed, more tired than she had let on to anyone. Sleep was still elusive, just out of reach each night. She looked behind her and spied her ever present shadow of protection. She really didn't know Zach, but for some reason, she did feel safer knowing he watched her back. He was silent, barely speaking, but he was there.

“Thanks, Zach,” she said over her shoulder.

Not expecting a reply and not getting one, she started to open the door, but Zach moved, stopping the motion of the door.

“Wait.”

One word and she froze.

Zach slowly pushed her back behind him and withdrew the gun he always carried.

“What is it?” she asked, forcing the words out past a tight throat.

Fear had her in its grip as image after image of her husband or his hired thugs flashed through her mind.

The apartment was dark and silent, which was normal at one in the morning, but it was the narrowed look of the man beside her, the intensity that turned his dark eyes almost red that concerned her.

“I don't know,” he finally responded. “Stay behind me.”

With that, he finished opening the door and stood there for a moment as he looked around. Suddenly, Nikki heard him growl, and her heart seemed to stop. She knew that sound.

Oh, God.

“I'm going to shift. Don't panic.”

Bones cracking, breaking, and mending filled the silence as she watched in shock, fascinated by something she still didn't understand.

A huge black bear stood in the doorway, the gun on the ground beside him. He turned, his eyes black, and stared at her. Nikki saw his gaze shoot down to the gun and then back at her. She got the point and bent down, picking up the cold metal with a shaking hand.

“I hate guns,” she whispered. It almost seemed like he rolled his eyes but turned his furry head and walked into the apartment. His steps silent, he stayed by her side.

A crash from the bedroom stopped them both in their tracks for a split second, but then Zach took off with a vicious roar, jumping over the back of the couch with a clean line of his large body. Another crash and then the scream. Nikki was frozen, the gun at her side, limp. The scream was cut off as soon as it hit the silence. She couldn't move, paralyzed. She should have been safe. She should have been…

Suddenly, she saw the shadow and, without thinking, lifted the gun and fired, missing the target completely.

“Fuck, Nikki. It's me!” Zach shouted, dodging the next bullet. She jerked, and the gun fell from her shaking fingers. Her breathing ragged, she felt him beside her as he bent down and picked up the gun.

“Thank God you're a lousy shot. That would have fucking hurt,” he muttered, straightening. He walked over and bent down to what remained of his clothes, rags now. He grabbed his cell from the pocket of his torn jeans.

She turned and flipped on the light by the door, but that was probably a mistake, as she gasped, her eyes widening even further. A mostly naked man stood in front of her, his dark head bent as he put the gun in the shorts that hung loosely from his hips. He put the cell to his ear as he caught her look.

“Bret is slightly bigger,” he said ironically.

That was an understatement. They looked like they were about to fall off, but it was the blood on his broad chest that had her eyes glued to him.

Ignoring her stare, he answered the voice on the other line. “Yeah, it's Zach.”

She didn't hear the rest, as her gaze left the blood on him and shot over to the door of the bedroom. The scream… Someone had been inside waiting for her. By the looks of Zach, whoever it was didn't pose a threat anymore, but that didn't make her feel better. For all of her struggle to remain hidden, her husband had found her.

Throat tightening, she took a step back toward the door, but Zach stopped her, grabbing her arm.

He ended the call, his large hand still on her arm, and closed the cell.

“Where do you think you're going?” he asked calmly.

She jerked her arm out of his grasp. The fear threatened to bring up her sandwich she had had a few hours before as she struggled to breathe.

“He's found me. I have to leave,” she choked.

She turned again, but the door slammed shut behind her, and she squeaked before turning to glare at him.

“If you leave, you're dead. I just killed a man, so you're not going anywhere. Bret is on his way.”

It could have been minutes or hours. She didn't know; time was irrelevant at the moment. Bret shot through the door, and his dark eyes found her immediately, sitting on the couch a few feet away.

He stalked over to her, and she gasped as he pulled her up and into his arms. He tightened his embrace, stealing what breath she had.

“Bret, let her go. The poor girl can't breathe!”

He loosened his arms, but he didn't let her go, and she drew in her first real breath since it had all happened. Her heartbeat slowed, returning to normal as she stood there. Bret was here. She didn't question her feeling of safety in his arms. Only that she was safe, at least for the moment.

“Are you okay?” he whispered harshly against the top of her head.

Nodding, she pulled free, and Bret relinquished his hold reluctantly.

Travis stood behind him, along with another man she didn't know.

“Nikki, this is Noah, another of my enforcers,” Travis added.

She got a good look at the men, and her eyes widened. “Why are you guys half naked? And why is there blood on you?”

She knew why Zach was covered in blood, but so were Bret, Travis, and Noah. There was blood on their chests, but they all had jeans on, so she was thankful for that at least.

Travis didn't answer her as he turned to Bret.

“Take her down to the club. We’ll clean up here and be down.”

The command was more than the words, but Bret seemed to understand as he nodded.

Once downstairs in the bar, Nikki couldn't sit still and started to pace.

“Are you going to tell me what happened? And where have you been?” she demanded, her hands on her hips as she glared at him from across the room where he stood by the long bar.

Glasses clinked as he made himself something to drink, and she waited impatiently for the explanation that never came.

“In due time.” His head snapped back as he gulped down his scotch on the rocks.

And for the first time in her life, she growled with frustration, suddenly sick of being treated like a child, like fine china that would break with one touch, one word. It was all she could do not to stomp her foot like said child.

Bret shot her a look over his shoulder, and something flashed in his eyes, something she couldn't name.

They stared at each other, their eyes locked.

The door opened, breaking the strange connection, and she watched as Travis, Zach, and Noah entered the room, still in their jeans, but the blood was gone.

Bret and Travis shared a look, and Bret nodded as he turned from the bar, leaning back against the small counter.

Before she could say anything, Travis cut to the chase as he stared over at her. “The body has been removed. Nikki, did you know your husband was selling girls on the black market?”

Shock hit her as his words felt like a punch to the gut.

“Jesus, Travis!”

“Damn, man.”

Travis ignored the outbursts of his men as he kept his eyes on her.

“What?” she whispered, her stomach heaving with the urge to puke. A sick feeling invaded at his revelation. The room spun, her thoughts racing with his sickening words.

Girls. Sold. Black market.

Nauseated, the bile rose, and Bret jumped toward her just as she heaved, little bits of bread and lettuce coming up and hitting the trash can just in the nick of time.

Gagging on the bile, someone held her hair as she bent over, her shoulders heaving as the yellow acid choked her.

“Fuck, Travis! Was there a point to blurting it out like that?” someone asked from above her. It could have been Bret or one of the other men. She didn't know.

Nothing left to throw up, Bret led her over to the small loveseat against the far wall and sat her down.

“Bret, what is he talking about?” she whispered, finally lifting her gaze up, way up, to meet his.

Sighing, Bret ran his fingers through his rumpled hair as he sat down beside her, the trash can at his feet.

“Your husband is involved in sex trafficking, Nikki,” he finally answered. “We got word that a drop was happening tonight, which is where we were. We saved three girls—fifteen years old.”

If she had anything left in her stomach, it would have come up then.

“Samantha took them to a safe house,” Bret added quietly.

Nikki felt her eyes burn and closed them before the first tear fell. She had thought it was awful when it was just her, but to find out that other girls had suffered...that it wasn't just her…

Bret hated how pale Nikki looked, and he hoped Travis was fucking happy with himself. He resisted the urge to glare at the damn man but kept his eyes on Nikki and her waxy expression of horror. He knew why his Alpha had done it, but that didn't mean he liked it. Travis had wanted to see how much she had known, but given her sick reaction to the news, she hadn't known shit.

When the men had gone to the drop that night, Jackson had already been there, watching and waiting as two men had been loading up the three girls.

Kneeling behind the crate next to him, Bret had scanned the dark scene, taking it all in.

“How many?” Travis asked quietly on the other side of Jackson. Noah was on Travis’s right, and Patrick was on Noah’s right.

“Four men. The driver, the two men with the girls, and there’s another bastard in the warehouse,” Jackson said, pointing to the metal structure to their right.

Nodding, the men stripped out of their clothes and quickly shifted, their beasts taking over. Four wolves and a bear stood in their place. The fuckers hadn't stood a chance. Sam had been waiting by the vehicles and took the terrified girls to safety.

Bret looked at Nikki now, at the trembling lips and the tears in her eyes, and just wanted to take her in his arms and never let go, but he forced himself to remain still as Travis interrogated her.

“How could you not notice something like this?” he asked, staring at her intently.

Nikki jumped up as her eyes shot to Travis’s face. Stiffening, she glared at him, her fists clenched at her sides.

“He beat and raped me most nights, keeping me locked in that mansion,” she said harshly. “Day after night, sickness through health,” she added bitterly. “It never stopped. I. Did. Not. Know.” She stressed each word, choking on the last syllable.

Bret felt his heart stop at her words and the sight of her tears; his bear roared with rage at the thought of the terror-stricken life she's lived, the daily fear she's faced.

“But I never thought... I only thought it was me.”

Bret lost it and stood up, pulling her into his arms. She stiffened even more, feeling as if she would break.

“That's enough, Travis,” he growled. She was quiet, but he felt the wetness on his shirt, and his glare hardened. “Enough.”

Travis looked like he wanted to argue but stopped and nodded as he looked down at Nikki’s dark head.

“Your husband knows where you are now. You're not safe here. I want you to stay at the pack house for the time being.”

Nikki tensed in his arms, and Bret knew what was happening, even despite the latest attempt on her life. This wasn't going to be pretty, and he tensed for a whole different reason. He wasn't afraid of his Alpha, but he was still his Alpha.

“No,” she replied, her soft voice muffled by his chest.

Bret heard the growl erupt from his Alpha and knew the other man hated to be outright defied, but he also knew where Nikki was coming from.

Again, this wasn't going to be pretty.

“Alpha,” he said quietly, looking over at Travis’s hard face. “I'll protect her.”

Just as the words left his mouth, he saw the disbelief in Travis’s eyes before they narrowed, and he knew what was coming.

“Like you did tonight? Damn it, Bret. She's not safe here until that bastard is euthanized!”

Before he could say anything to that, Nikki pulled back and forced him to drop his arms, something both he and his bear objected to.

She turned her head and stared over at the men before her gaze landed on Travis.

Bret gained even more respect for her as he glimpsed the determination and resolve in her beautiful eyes.

“You've known me for years, Travis,” she started, her voice carrying to the four corners of the room.

Everyone froze and listened, Bret included.

“I know I'm only a human and not as strong as you, but I've survived this long. I'm sick and tired of being treated like fine china, like something that will break with the slightest breeze. He's taken enough from me. I am done. Just...done.” She shook her head. “I won't let him take any more. I can help you. I never…” She stopped and took a deep breath as she continued, her voice breaking but in the end, gaining strength. “I never knew about the girls. I swear I didn't, but I can help. Please, you have to let me help. Please.”

Silence followed her passionate speech as their gazes locked, a silent battle of wills that drew the fine line of survival versus strength, and what Bret saw in that moment, hidden behind the vulnerable edge of a beautiful woman, was pure steel.

He fell for her in that moment. There was no going back.

He was fucked.