I may not have seen him in eighteen months, but something about us clicked. Maybe it was because he saved me that night or maybe it was more. Whatever it is, I don't want to question it.

He's the only one I can trust. Until I know the threat is gone, I can't get close to these people.

It's for their own safety.

"Oh, hi. Didn't realize anyone was still up." I step into the kitchen later that night for a midnight snack.

"Yeah, couldn't sleep." Kelly looks up from the table at my voice.

"Coffee probably doesn't help." I point down at her mug, offering some sound advice.

"I know, but you know how it is." She shrugs. "You hungry? You missed the BBQ."

"Yeah, I'm starving. I went for a nap. Didn't realize I'd sleep through," I admit, still awkwardly standing on the threshold. I wasn't expecting anyone to be up. To be honest, I prayed no one would be.

After Beau left to deal with some business, I went back to my room. I didn't want to come out while the clubhouse was so busy, so I decided to try to get some sleep. Only problem is I slept right through dinner.

"That's understandable, love. Help yourself. There's plenty of food." She points to the fridge and it only takes my stomach grumbling to take up her offer.

"Thanks." I step up to the fridge and pull out a couple of containers. I haven't eaten since Beau's eggs, so anything would taste amazing right now.

Kelly is silent while I put together a small plate of salad, chicken and fresh bread rolls.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" I ask after I put the containers back in the fridge and take my plate over to the table. I'd much rather take my food to my room, but I can't be rude and leave her here.

"Always fun at club BBQs. You should have stuck around."

"Maybe next one," I offer, not sure when the next one is happening or if I will still be around. Kelly nods, but doesn't say anything.

The silence hanging between us lasts for a few minutes before Kelly speaks again.

"You know, Mackenzie, if you ever want to talk, I'm here. We all are."

"Thanks, Kelly," I say right before I place a mouthful of salad in my mouth. I know she means well, but I don't really want to talk to anyone here about my past.

"About fifteen years ago I was in a situation not too different from yours." I look up, intrigued she's sharing this with me. "I was young, in love, and he had me like a fishhook, line and sinker. A real charmer. We'd been dating through college and one night we went out with some of his friends. He'd been drinking all day, and then his ex-girlfriend arrived. I was upset because she sat on his knee and kissed him, and he didn't do anything to stop her. I went to sit in the car and he came bellowing over, annoyed I left him there, so I locked the door. That was the first time I realized how strong he was. He put his fist through the pa.s.senger window then dragged me out. After punching me around for a bit, one of his friends drove me home. The next day when he arrived at the dorm, he was full of remorse. He promised me things would be different, he wouldn't drink anymore, and he would never hurt me again. The whole sob story. I believed him. I loved him." She lets out a sad laugh and instantly my insides twist in reaction. I know that laugh, understand where it comes from.

Kelly, missing my moment of recognition, continues her story. "Things improved for a few months, but then I got pregnant." My eyes grow wide at her admission trying to do the math. I know Kelly is married to Brooks, and I know they have a daughter who's only five years old, so she's not talking about Mia.

"He was happy to begin with. Things were looking up. But one night a few weeks later, he came around drunk. He was a mean drunk and I was p.i.s.sed off at him for going against what he promised me. We argued. He said some terrible things. Then he punched me in my stomach." Her eyes shine with unshed tears and I fight my need to comfort her. "I lost the baby two days later."

"I'm so sorry, Kelly." I place my fork on my plate, my appet.i.te now lost.

"I'm not telling you this so you feel sorry for me, or so we can bond on some sisterhood level. I'm telling you because I want you to know I understand your reservations about seeking help. I was lucky I had a close family who had my back, but sometimes, even with all the support, I still felt alone. Sometimes I wanted to just pretend it never happened. But the problem with that is it doesn't always go away."

"Kelly-" I know what she's saying without really saying it, and I want to put a stop to it. "Did Beau ask you to talk to me?"

"No, I just overheard them talking about you not giving a statement. I want you to know that I get why you don't want to, and I respect that. But unlike me, you don't have the support I did. So I'm here if you want to talk. Whenever, you know? " She reaches across the table and places her hand over my forearm.

"Did you press charges?" I don't know why it matters but I ask anyway.

"No, like you I didn't want to draw it out. I was scared. He came from a wealthy family and it was his word against mine." I'm almost relieved at her answer. That someone around here understands me.

"I know how that feels."

"You're brave, Mackenzie. Doing this on your own shows just how strong you truly are. Just promise me if you need to talk, you'll reach out. Okay?" I nod and take onboard her advice. The last eighteen months I've kept to myself, holding everything in. Maybe a friend wouldn't hurt. Maybe opening up wouldn't be so hard, knowing she went through the same thing.

"Thanks, Kelly. I think you're brave and strong, too." I place my free hand over hers. I watch a smile spread across her lips briefly and I can't help but return it.

"Well, that's enough deep stuff for the night. I better get to bed." She drops her hand from mine and stands.

"See you in the morning." She places her cup in the sink and leaves me sitting alone thinking about her words.

I know why I don't want to involve the police, and I know why I should.

Neither decision is going to help me. All I know is, right now I'm safe. No one is coming for me. No one is asking questions, and after having my world come down around me, I'm not going to go looking for trouble.

If trouble comes knocking, then I will be ready.

"You have to be s.h.i.tting me," I curse while trying to flip the d.a.m.n omelet for the fifth time.

"You okay there?" A voice startles me, causing me to jump back in a scream. "s.h.i.t, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." I turn around at the voice and come face-to-face with someone I've met before. Almost black hair, green eyes, legs molded into dark jeans.

"Detective Carter, what are you doing here?" I back up, knocking the handle of the pan, watching it and the omelet I've been trying to perfect, fall to the floor.

Oh, G.o.d, is he here for me?

"Didn't Beau tell you I was coming?" He steps forward, tears a napkin from the roll and starts to pick up the mess on the floor.

"Umm, no?" I calm my breathing and force myself to relax.

"Well, that explains the jumpy reception." He chuckles as he comes to stand in front of me. "Sorry about the omelet."

"No problem, it was already ruined." I watch him place the pan back on the stovetop and step back. My hands flex in front of me. My initial instinct is to run for it, but I push the feeling away. In the past, I learned the hard way the police can't be trusted. Not when they were under the influence of Chad's father, Mayor Morre.

"I can see your head running a mile a minute there, sweetheart. I'm not here to bring you any harm. I'm just here to take your statement." A slight grin pulls at the side of his face, only relaxing me a little.

"Statement for what?" I blurt, forcing another breath into my lungs. Beau and Nix both discussed with me the possibility of going to the police last week. But I said no.

Apparently, he didn't agree.

"To press charges against your ex."

"I-I..." My voice of caution whispers softly not to react, but it doesn't break through my body's need to retreat. I shake my head from side to side. "I'm not interested. I told Beau I didn't want to press charges." I go to step around him, but he stops my escape.

"I understand your apprehension with talking to me, Mackenzie, but I'm on your side." I nearly scoff at him. My side? The man works in the same sheriff's department as men who have ties to the Mayor, why would I want to talk to him?

"There are no sides for me, Detective Carter. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming here, but I have nothing to say." I try to keep my breathing steady as I attempt to stay calm.

Cops are a no go. I found out the hard way last time.

"He put his hands on you. You should make a statement." I stop the eye roll from forming, but can't help the scoff this time.

"Like that's helped in the past." I casually take another step back. If he's not going to let me out of the kitchen, I at least want to put some distance between us.

"I know you had a hard run, Mackenzie. I'm not excusing anyone in our department, but not all cops are crooked." I hold his stare for a beat, and try not to read too much into his conviction. I know he personally didn't mess me around, but the department he works in did.

"Yeah," is all I manage to say, wishing I could be anywhere but here. The last thing I want to do today is reminisce about the time I reached out to the police for help and it was brushed under the rug.

"So, Chad hasn't tried to contact you since you've been back?" Detective Carter presses on.

"No. And I'd like to keep it that way." I take another step back, this time less casually. His eyes follow my retreat, picking up on my unease.

"No one knows I'm here."

"And it will stay that way. As far as we're concerned, you being here is a on a need to know basis."

"Yeah, and what about the Mayor?" Anyone in the Mayor's pockets can easily tell him I'm here.

"The Mayor is more concerned with trying to find his son. Seems he's gone underground. No doubt in hiding after what he did to you."

My heart twists as a white light almost blinds me.

"Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" His jaw ticks and his eyes flash with something I've never seen before. It's almost crazed. Feral.

"You okay, Mackenzie? You look pale." Jackson's voice chases the memory away.

"Of course." I hold his stare. In any other circ.u.mstance, I would have pulled off my lie with a smile and a quick change of the subject, but not today. Today, I tug at my shirt, and wonder if he can see right through me. With each tug, my unease grows, and I can practically see his mind racing with unasked questions.

"Is Beau around?" He doesn't push my reaction. Instead, he pulls a chair back and takes a seat at the table, his large frame looking just as uncomfortable as I am.

"He had a callout last night. He just got back in. I think he's in the shower."

I force my mind to not picture Beau in the shower. Naked. Wet. His hair dripping.

s.h.i.t, it's not working.

"I'll just wait around for him if you don't mind." His eyes don't leave mine and I force myself not to show any reaction.

"Of course, can I offer you a drink, coffee?"

He nods, giving me my answer. I move to the coffee pot and pour him a fresh cup, refilling my own too.

"Looks like you've settled in." He attempts to make conversation when I hand him his coffee.

"The club has been very accommodating," I reply, not wanting to be rude. "Cream, sugar?"

"I'm good." He winks, bringing the mug up to his mouth.

"What the f.u.c.k you doing here, a.s.shole?" I jump back at Jesse's booming voice as he enters the kitchen.

"h.e.l.lo to you too, brother." Detective Carter doesn't take his eyes off me as he greets Jesse.

"You're brothers?" I look between the two men, taking in both of them. Where the detective has dark hair and green eyes, Jesse has blond hair and blue eyes. If I stare long enough, I might be able to see the resemblance.

A little.

"Unfortunately," Detective Carter answers first.

"I'm the better looking one," Jesse replies, flipping his brother off while taking himself to the coffee pot.

"You think you are." Detective Carter takes another sip of his coffee.

"Nope, I know I am." They keep going back and forth until Jesse stops the banter with his own question.

"What the f.u.c.k happened here?" l turn and watch him pick up the pan holding my failed omelet.

"Umm, that would be mine." I try not to react when his horror-filled eyes come to mine.

"Jesus, Mackenzie. Beau wasn't lying when he said you can't make eggs." He empties the messed-up omelet into the trash and wipes out the pan. "I think I need to step in."

"What? It's not too bad."

He turns, and c.o.c.ks his brow. "Woman, I wouldn't feed my dog this." I'm not offended by his comments. In the last week, I've come to learn Jesse just says it how it is. All the time.

In this case, it's no different.

"You don't have a dog, Jesse." Detective Carter laughs from the table.

"Well, if I did, I wouldn't feed her it," Jesse counters.

Before they can get back into it, I interrupt. "Okay, well show me how you do it then. Beau won't teach me and I know omelet is his favorite. I just want to get it right." I take a moment to process what I just said, then try not to read too much into it. I just want to be able to repay him in some way.

"All right. Be prepared to learn, Mackenzie." Jesse starts cracking some eggs into a bowl. "I'll show you how it's done." I look over at Detective Carter. He lifts his shoulder, almost daring me to let him. Knowing I'm better off keeping Jesse around to ward off any of Detective Carter's questions, I step over to the stove and stand next to Jesse.