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As long as I lived, I would never forget the look of horror on Hattie’s face when I came home bloodied. It wasn’t the first time. But I’d managed to pull it off in the middle of the night before, scrubbing myself down, getting rid of my clothes before she saw anything.

She wanted a loving, doting, gentle husband. She wanted a home in the suburbs. She wanted kids, for Christ’s sake.

How could I give that kind of a life to her when this was all I knew? Broken bones. Bloodshed. Bruises. Violence. I loved her the only way I knew how—by killing to protect her. And I was terrified that would never be enough when she deserved so much more.

As I bent over the sink and turned the faucet on, my phone rang. I ignored it, watching the water swirl from clear to red as I washed the blood off my hands.

Then Big G’s phone rang.

“Hey, Hattie. Yeah, he’s right here.”

He passed his phone to me. I took it, blood and water dripping down my wrist.

“Is everything okay, baby?”

“It’s fine. I was just…um…could we talk? I want to come back to Brightwater.”

I closed my eyes as relief flooded through me. Thirteen years of waiting was finally over.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, sweetheart.”

Hattie stood on Connie’s porch and crossed her arms. She’d changed out of her blouse and skirt, for a regular T-shirt and jeans.

“You know I hate that thing.”

I chuckled and patted the pillion seat.

“Come on, baby. Try it just once. You might like it.”

She frowned, but I could see the gleam of interest in her eyes as she looked over the bike. Reluctantly, she marched down the driveway and came to stand beside me. I curved my hand over her hip, pulling her closer. My knuckles were bruised a vicious purple, scraped raw from beating Barber’s face in.

“I will never understand what you have against a regular car with seat belts and airbags,” she retorted.

“It’s boring,” I replied. “I know for a fact boring men do not make that pretty pussy of yours a sopping mess.”

She swatted my shoulder.

“Don’t be crude. And what happened to your hand?”

I looped my arm around Hattie’s waist, tugging her against me.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

She pressed her lips together with disapproval, but she didn’t push.

“We need to talk,” she said firmly. “Like, really talk. No sex.”

“Whatever you want, baby. We can go for a ride, grab an early dinner.”

Removing my helmet, I settled it on her head, clipping the straps under her chin.

“What about you?” she said.

“Left my spare at home,” I replied. “We won’t go too far. I’ll be careful.”

She snorted.

“You’ve never been careful in your life.”