"It's all in the wrist," he says, and then sets out to teach me how to create some kind of edible breakfast, completely oblivious to my slight freak out.

Who knew last week I would be here, in the kitchen of the Knights Rebels MC, sharing coffee with two brothers. One, who has close work ties to the family I'm running from, and the other teaching me how to make eggs for the man who I owe more than my life to.

The same man who frightens me more than anyone because of the things he makes me feel, the things he makes me want. Things I have no business wanting from a man like him.

Yeah, I need more than a minute to process this.

"Kenzie, did you hear me?" Beau's voice calls me out of my trance. I look up, coming back to reality and find him standing at the door of my room. His hair is pulled back in some s.e.xy male bun, making his beard look longer. He's not wearing his cut today, which disappoints me, but the black Henley, pulled tight over his arms, is just as good to look at.

"Sorry? What did you say?" I place the book I was reading down beside me and sit up.

"Have you eaten?" He rests his shoulder against the doorframe, his booted feet crossing at the ankle.

"Ahh, not yet." I look at the time and realize I've just daydreamed my whole morning away.

It's been a week since Detective Carter came around to see me. Much to my chagrin, Beau came out from his shower, and ripped Jackson a new one for talking to me without him. It's not that I needed him there when Jackson questioned me; in fact, I was glad I didn't have him there. Beau would have only tried to convince me to press charges. It's not that I don't understand where they're coming from, but it's just easier this way. The last thing I need is a paper trail.

"You gotta start eating, Kenzie," Beau pushes off the doorframe and steps into my room. The name my mom and dad called me sends me back to the good memories of my childhood when my life wasn't tainted with fear and pain.

"I'm not trying to starve myself, Beau." My feet find the floor next to my bed and I stand, stretching out my kinks. Eating has been the last thing on my mind lately, not when my stomach is constantly in knots with fear.

"Doesn't look like it to me," Beau pushes, throwing me off more with his comments. I don't know when he's teasing or being serious. Even after spending two weeks with him, I'm still trying to figure him out. He's changed a lot since I saw him last. Not that I really knew him. It was only a brief time we spent together, but it didn't matter. As cliche as it might sound, we had a connection. One that brought us together.

"Trust me, Beau, between you, Hunter, and Jesse, you would think I have some kind of eating disorder." I shake my head at their over protectiveness.

Over the last two weeks, I've come to know all the guys here, but Jesse and Hunter have been around the most. When Beau isn't around, I find myself either in the kitchen with Jesse, or playing pool with Hunter.

"What've Jesse and Hunter been saying?" His brows pinch inward as he steps into my room.

"Nothing, just that I should be eating more," I tell him, unsure why he's so concerned. He says the same d.a.m.n thing every day. Ever since my first day here, Beau has been on my back about eating. I know over the eighteen months I haven't been eating as well as I should have been. I can see it in the way my clothes hang off my body. So even if I do find his pestering about me eating annoying, I know why he's doing it.

"Tell them to mind their own f.u.c.king business." He grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

"Ahh, no. I can't tell them to mind their own business." I pick up my cardigan and slide my arms though the holes.

Is he crazy? These guys have taken me in to protect me, no questions asked. Made me feel comfortable. Offered me clean clothes, food. I'm not going to tell them to get off my back when I know they mean well.

"I'll tell them." He shakes his head, pulling on his beard, his expression guarded. I don't know much about Beau, but from what I've learned, he keeps to himself a lot and rarely shows emotions, but this here is new. This is deeper.

"It's fine, Beau. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself." He holds my stare for a minute and I wait for him to respond, but he doesn't.

"All right, now I'm hungry." I take a step toward him, my stomach grumbling on cue.

"Before we eat, I need to talk to you about Heidi." All thoughts of food flee faster than a gambler from a bookie.

"You found her?" My voice is hopeful, but dread offers my mind only one thought. He got to her.

"She's missing, darlin'." I had antic.i.p.ated the worst, knowing she wouldn't just up and leave like she did, but I wasn't expecting the ferocity of guilt and how it almost blinds me.

"She's dead."

"You don't know that. For all we know, she's gone into hiding."

I know it's more than that. Deep down I know. Regret washes over me. How I wish I could go back and take a different path, a path that includes taking Heidi with me all those months ago.

"She wouldn't just leave like this, Beau. You and I both know this. Stop giving me false hope. Be realistic here."

"I'm not giving you false hope, darlin'. I refuse to give up. We're gonna keep looking." He pushes off the doorframe, takes two steps toward me, and reaches for my hand. Instead of flinching like I normally would, I let him take it, let him soothe the raging storm brewing inside me.

I believe him when he says he won't give up, but I also know Chad. Know what he was capable of. If Heidi is missing, I know with everything inside of me, Chad is responsible.

We stand deep in silence, my mind fighting with my body on how to processes it, until Beau whispers, "Come back to me, darlin'." His words are the resuscitation I need to finally let my body gasp for much-needed air.

"I'm here."

"You're not," he argues, but he's wrong. Two weeks ago, the news of Heidi being missing would have sent me into a full-blown breakdown. This reaction is me processing. I'm not saying every part of me doesn't want to break, or retreat into myself, I just don't want to show Beau that kind of weakness.

"I'm here as much as you." I drop his hand and let out a breath. "Now, how about that lunch?"

"Don't put a mask on with me, Kenz. I'm not saying you can't feel, just don't give up hope." I don't reply right away. The fact he just called me out shocks me. That's one thing I respect about Beau. He doesn't let me play my bulls.h.i.t.

"You're right. Every part of me wants to lie down right now in defeat. But that's not fair to Heidi." I give him the truth. Until we know for sure, I'm going to stay positive.

"It's not fair to you," he corrects me.

"Yeah, well, I don't care about me."

"Well, I do." His wide eyes reflect his conviction, and his hand tightening in mine proves he won't be convinced otherwise. For a millisecond, I let it pull me to him. It's been so long since I've willingly let someone care. I don't know what it is between Beau and I. This tension has been growing rapidly from day one, and every time he's close, my body reacts.

Which is crazy considering I haven't been with anyone since Chad.

"Well, someone should." I laugh to hide my unease. "Come on, I really am hungry." Beau doesn't say anything, he just steps back to let me pa.s.s. My arm brushes against his hard chest as I pa.s.s him. "What would you like to eat?" I ignore the flutter in my stomach as I look up at him. He's so tall and broad. The top of my head barely hits his shoulder and standing in front of him, my insides grow unpleasantly warm realizing he could probably do some serious damage with his arms.

No, he's not Chad.

"I'll make something." His short monotone voice makes me cringe only for a second before I relax. I'm starting to learn it's Beau's way. In the beginning, it rubbed me wrong, taking me back to when Chad was angry with me, and no matter what I would try to do to fix the situation, he would still lash out in a cruel way. Beau is different though. He might be short with his answers, and sometimes he might come across as harsh, but there is nothing cruel about him.

"I can cook, Beau. I don't know what the problem is." I roll my eyes. I'm actually a good cook. I bake and love to try new recipes. I'm just not good with eggs, apparently.

"You roll your eyes at me again, we're going to have other problems, darlin'." His hot breath hits me first, then the slight tickle of his beard before the words wash over me.

I freeze instantly. The pressure of his hard chest pushing me against the wall suspends me from the present to the past.

I know Beau wouldn't hurt me, know it with every fiber of my being, but it doesn't stop my body from reacting.

"Step back," I manage past my dry cottonmouth. My stomach turns as the memory grows stronger. My heart heaves in my chest.

He doesn't argue, his weight is off me in one second. But it's too late. I'm spiraling head first back into the past.

Past

Mackenzie

"I'm sorry, baby, see what you do to me? You make me crazy. I love you so much it drives me insane." The stars dancing in front of my eyes still linger, but I manage to find my bearings.

It's happening all over again.

"You mean everything to me, Mackenzie. Seeing you taunt me like that is too much for me. You can't speak to me like that and not expect me to react." He continues to excuse his behavior and push the blame onto me, but I don't have it in me to listen this time. It's going to be the same old story. Only I already know the ending.

Ignoring his apology, I start to shift from my position on the tiled floor and attempt to stand on my feet. I was cleaning the kitchen after our guests had left right before Chad came at me with his fist.

"Here let me help you." He reaches for me, but a panicked plea leaves my mouth before I can stop myself.

"NO!"

He recoils at the level of my voice and I take the brief moment to find my feet on my own.

"You can't be angry at me, Mackenzie. You deliberately provoked me." I slowly and painfully turn back to face him and finally see what I have been missing since the night he changed. The man is crazy. He's not going to change. Tonight proves it.

"Provoked you, Chad?" I shake my head of thoughts of our beginning and contemplate how we're going to end.

"Don't f.u.c.king act dumb. It doesn't suit you, sweetheart." Forcing a breath into my lungs, I take a minute and try to figure out how to play this.

"I'm dumb all right, Chad. Dumb to think you would change." With false bravado, I move to our bedroom. Each small step burns my innards like boiling water.

"Where the f.u.c.k do you think you're going?" Fingers wrap around my forearm, stopping me before I can run away.

"Take your hands off me." The shriek in my voice echoes off the high walls of our house, but he doesn't react, his hold staying firm.

"You're not f.u.c.king going anywhere. You're my wife." The vein in his temple bulges as his grip grows stronger. His alcohol-laced breath hits my face and I force myself not to breathe in the offensive smell.

"You don't beat your wife, Chad." I tug harder, desperate to be out of his hold.

"Maybe if you weren't acting like a wh.o.r.e all night, I wouldn't f.u.c.king have to."

I know arguing with him right now isn't going to help me. He's drunk, angry, and he's already hit me, but I can't help it. The fact he's calling me a wh.o.r.e hurts more than the fist to the face.

"Wh.o.r.e? Tell me how I was a wh.o.r.e?"

"You don't think I saw the looks you kept throwing the a.s.shole. The smiles, the way you f.u.c.king let him kiss you goodbye." He pulls me to his chest.

"You're f.u.c.king crazy." I fight his hold. The man has lost his d.a.m.n mind. I was only playing the part he has drilled into me since becoming his wife.

"Yeah, crazy for you, baby." His nose comes to my hairline and he breathes me in. I keep fighting, even though I know it's pointless. He's too strong.

"I'm leaving, Chad. We're done. You promised, and I believed you. I trusted you wouldn't put your hands on me again."

"You're not going anywhere, Mackenzie." He spins us in one fast movement and pushes me against the wall. Air leaves my lungs in a rapid surge at the force of the impact. He steps in closer, one hand leaving my arm and moving lower, slipping past the hemline of my shift dress. Chad starts to glide it up the outside of my thigh. I fight the tears threatening to fall. It shouldn't be like this. I know that. But the most terrifying thing is, I don't think Chad knows it. To him, there are no boundaries or lines that shouldn't be crossed.

"Don't. Please don't." Repulsion aches through me at his touch and I fight it when his fingers slip into the side of my panties. I've never felt so hopeless in my life, standing against the wall inside of my home with my husband's unwelcome touch.

"Don't what? Touch my wh.o.r.e wife." I kick out at his shin, fighting once more for a brief moment to break free, but I'm met with a backhand to the face. My cheek stings and I cry out, not in pain but in fear, not sure how far he is going to take this or how I am going to get out of this. I don't know if I can. The thought alone has my knees buckling under me.

"The more you fight me, Mackenzie, the worse this is going to be for you." He holds me up against the wall.

"Why are you doing this, Chad?" A sob escapes my lips as he forcibly drives two fingers inside of me. How could the man I love try to take this from me? The man who promised to love and cherish me.

"Because I love you, Mackenzie. No one will ever have what belongs to me. Do you understand me?"

I don't answer because I have no idea how he could think this is love.

This isn't love. This is the devil's kingdom and I don't belong here. The flames from the pits of h.e.l.l are burning my flesh from the outside, working their way underneath my skin, waiting to turn the flicker of hope I have left in me to ash.

I have to find my way out of it.

Somehow I have to.

Six.

Beau "That's it, darlin', deep breaths," I encourage. Her eyes remain closed as she slowly starts to come back to herself. She's been like this for over five minutes now, and it's as if my breathing labors like hers, gasping each time she does.