The silence in the clubhouse pierces the veil of numbness I’ve carried with me since the moment my husband laid the first strike against my skin.

Their stares stab against the wall I built around me and the kids.

As I watch them warily, the varying degrees of emotions coming from them batter my psyche, and I retreat further into myself.

When I ran from Coral Cay seven years ago, I never intended to return.

Pope had betrayed me, and the entire club—people I grew up believing were my family—stood around and watched it happen.

Some even participated in the betrayal themselves.

The trust I had in them shattered like dust that day.

When there’s no trust, there can’t be a relationship.

Trust is fragile. It wavers depending on the person you place it in.

I thought the trust I had in Pope was unyielding.

I gave so much of my life to him and the club, only for them to turn their backs on me in one of my most painful moments.

I loved Pope to the depths of my soul. He owned every part of me, and I never shied away from letting him and the world know it.

I wasn’t ashamed of my feelings. There was never a need to hide it.

I was damn proud that I belonged to him.

When I gave him my heart, I trusted that he’d take care of it.

So, it was soul destroying when he tore it from my chest.

The gaping wound refused to close for months. The black hole in my chest reflected how empty I felt on the inside. My days were filled with the debilitating pain that lived inside my soul.

But then there was a moment as I stood under the moonlight.

A flutter against the hand I had resting on my already swollen stomach.

It was a whisper of hope. A promise that everything would be okay.

It was a reminder that I’d never be alone again.

That flutter was the nudge I needed to pull myself out of the bleakness that had overtaken me at Pope’s betrayal and get myself together despite the pain breathing inside me.

Being a single mom was never the future I’d planned, but plans change. Shit happens and you’re left with two choices. Stay in place and let the stench soak into your skin or wipe it off and build something new.

I made a promise to myself and to my babies that I would do better.

Before I left Coral Cay, I’d wiped out the safe Pope kept in the home office.

The staggering amount of cash he had locked behind it shocked me, but it only took seconds for me to determine I’d be able to live off it long enough for me to have the babies and get on my feet.

I should have felt guilty stealing so much money from him, but I couldn’t find it in me to give a fuck.

My twin sister, Valkyrie, told me to count it as early child support that I’d never get. Anytime I would start to feel guilty about it, I just recalled everything that happened when I tried to tell him I was pregnant.

I decided not to get a job until Lovelyn and Ledger were six months old.

Valkyrie and I headed to Kentucky after we left Florida.

We had a cousin who was connected to the Dirty Mavericks MC and promised they could get us new identities that would be untraceable.

I wanted a clean break from the club, and I was terrified Pope or our brother, Cyanide, would come after us if they knew where we were.

Especially after stealing so much money from that safe.

Those identities were the only reason I felt comfortable working.

It was only a month into working at the diner when he came in.

Frankie Sullivan.

I didn’t expect to be drawn to someone so quickly after Pope. I definitely hadn’t planned on it and would have chosen to run from it if I could have. The truth is, by that point, I was tired of running. It wasn’t a life I wanted for my kids.

There was something about Frankie that drew me to him.

An intensity that thrummed under his skin that reminded me so much of Pope.

Frankie actually had a lot about him that brought Pope to mind, from the way he owned whatever room he walked in to, to the way his smile gave me butterflies.

As unfair as it was to Frankie, I think it was those reminders of my ex that drew me to him the most.

Every day for six months, came in and sat in my section, waiting patiently until I could get to him. Before he left, he’d smile and ask me out, and every time, I turned him down.

Until the time I didn’t.

Valkyrie gave me the push I needed when she asked me if I truly believed Pope was waiting around for me.

It brought back the vision of Pope with Diamond dancing topless on his lap and him ordering her to remove her underwear so he could see her pussy as he put his hands on her.

She was right. If Pope did that while we were together, there was no way in hell he wasn’t fucking around after I left.

So, the next time Frankie came in and asked me out, I said yes.

It was during that first date when I told him about the twins. He asked about their father, and I told him he wasn’t in the picture and probably never would be. The tiny smirk on his face made my stomach roll, but I shoved it away, chalking it up to going out with someone other than Pope.

The weeks and months flew by with Frankie. I was finding happiness again and hoped that I’d eventually fall in love with him.

Frankie never pushed to meet the kids, letting me set the pace I was comfortable with.

It was the day after the twins’ first birthday, and after Frankie finally met them, that he’d asked me to marry him.

Shock kept me from answering right away, but Frankie was super sweet about it.

He told me to think about it and that he’d continue to love me regardless of my answer.

It was the first time he’d said that, and it made me happy but also scared the crap out of me.

My stupid heart was holding me back, and I knew that if I didn’t put Pope to rest finally, I’d never be free.

The last time I called him did not end well, and as much as my brain knew this time wouldn’t be different, my heart needed to get that memo.

I called the last number I had for Pope and found mine blocked, same with my brother, and the same with the club.

They must have blocked me from the clubhouse phone the last time I called.

My heart cried out, finally accepting what my brain had already known—that part of my life was dead and gone.

Two days after that, I went to Frankie. Before I agreed to marry him, I needed him to understand some things about my kids.

Frankie is great with them, but I never want to be the parent who lies to their children.

They were still super young, but I’d been talking to them about Pope since they were in my belly.

I didn’t need a dad for my kids—I just needed people who loved them.

After reassurances from Frankie that he understood, I agreed to become his wife.

We were married at the courthouse two weeks later.

Our marriage was good. It was full of love, laughter, and happiness. It was a soft place to land when I didn’t think I’d ever have that again.

If my love for him wasn’t as deep as it could have been, I ignored that. If I got an implant so we couldn’t have the kids he was already pushing for before I was ready, I ignored that, too.

For the first time since Pope had betrayed me, the twins and I were happy. So, it was easy to ignore the red flags that had been waving in front of my face.

Then, not long after the kids turned two, everything changed.

It was an outside play day, and the twins were excited. They ran out ahead of me and Frankie, squealing with excitement. Hearing their happiness brought a smile to my face because it let me know that I was doing right by them even if there were days that my heart cried out in despair.

My attention was so focused on my kids and husband that I missed it at first.

Missed him .

It was that tingle that I always got in Pope’s presence that drew my eyes to the lone figure straddling a motorcycle across the street.

My chest tightened and my skin grew clammy as I watched him stare at my kids.

His kids.

Frankie’s arm sat heavily over my shoulder, tucking me into his embrace as the pain of seeing Pope again tried to break me.

Even from a distance, I could read the regret and sorrow on his face, but it didn’t change anything.

As much as I appreciated it, he still set us on a course that drastically changed our lives.

I didn’t hide that pain from him. I let him see the damage his betrayal had left behind and the scars I still carried even years later.

It wasn’t until Frankie’s arms tightened around me that it hit home for Pope, and I witnessed his face shatter.

We were over.

For good.

He gave me and the kids one last look of longing before he left.

I knew it was the last time I’d ever see Pope.

Until everything changed, and the monster hiding inside Frankie made an appearance.

“Think you can let us know what’s going on? We can’t help if we don’t know what we’re up against.”

Pope’s brisk words jar me from my thoughts, and my body goes into a fit of uncontrollable tremors at the thought of having to relive my most terrifying day yet with Frankie.