Page 140 of King of Pain

I squeeze his knee harder, my heart breaking all over again. “Fuck, Chance. I’m so sorry.”

He meets my eyes, and for a moment, I think he might break. Instead, he takes another long drink and presses forward. “After talking to Murph, I knew in my gut what really happened, and I knew he was going to cover it up. So, I got on my bike with nothing but my phone, my wallet, and the clothes on my back.”

I blink at him, stunned. “You drove all the way across the country on your motorcycle?”

He nods, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah. I needed the time to formulate a plan and consider every little detail. I knew what I was going to do. I just needed to assess the repercussions that would come from my actions.”

My heart is pounding. “Chance,” I whisper, afraid of what comes next.

But I already know.

And I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it.

TRACK FIFTY

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)

Chance

Ant’s eyes remain focused on mine, intense and unwavering. “Keep going,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. Then he follows it up with the questions I know have been burning in him for three years. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? Why didn’t you answer my calls and texts? Why did you turn your phone service off?”

I blow out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry, Beautiful. I had no choice.”

His jaw visibly tightens as his gaze hardens. “I don’t understand, Chance.”

I grimace and rub the back of my neck, preparing myself for the rest. “Like I said, I knew what I was going to do. The decision had been made, and I knew they would come for me.”

“The Black Crows?”

I nod. “Yeah. And they weren’t just going to be out formyblood.”

Standing up, I start pacing, trying to find the words that will make him understand. “These organizations, Ant, they have deep resources. It’s not just about hunting someone down—it’s about leverage, about power.” I stop pacing, turning to face him. “If they couldn’t get to me, they would go after anyone I cared about for leverage.”

Ant’s brows furrow as realization starts to dawn.

I take a deep breath and push forward. “I couldn’t risk them knowing about you. About how much I…” I pause, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “How much I care about you. You would have been their first target to use against me.”

His face flickers with something raw—hurt, understanding, maybe even guilt—but it settles into something resigned. He exhales slowly and says, “So you cut me out of your life to keep me safe.”

It’s not a question.

I nod. Then shake my head. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, Beautiful. It fucking destroyed me.”

Ant closes his eyes, his fists clenching at his sides, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.

When he opens his eyes again, they’re hard and determined. “Go on, tell me the rest.”

I sit back down on the couch next to Ant, my pulse hammering as I cautiously place a hand over one of his clenched fists. His knuckles are white—his entire frame is visibly tight with tension. I press down gently, trying to ease him, trying to tether him back to me.

“When I got back to Boston, I met Murph at the spot we agreed to on our last call before my phone was digitally wiped and burned,” I start. “While I was finishing the drive, Murph was busy coordinating everything with The Doves.”

I pick up my glass and take another slow drink, the burn of tequila barely registering. Ant is just looking at me, glassy-eyed, his expression not giving much away. But he’s listening.

“It had to be arranged to make it look like they weren’t involved in anything,” I continue. “I was low-level in the organization, and everyone knew my relationship with my father was contentious. It wasn’t a stretch for anyone to believe I acted on my own out of rage.” I exhale, setting the glass back on the table. “And that part is true. Taking his life was all me. It was hiding me afterwards that put their necks on the line.”

Ant shakes his head. “You’ve been in hiding? This whole time?”

“Yep,” I say, my tone cautious. “The whole time.”