Page 2 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)

CHAPTER

ONE

McKenna

My days and nights blend together. After Risk and I parted ways, I started free falling. Chasing that high that being his wife gave me. That man split my heart wide open and I’ve never been the same.

Emotionally, I’m void.

Physically, I stand tall but it’s all for show. I don’t like who I've become, but at the same time, I simply don’t care.

I wake up, empty my bladder, brush my teeth, take a shower, blow dry my hair, and go to work.

I come home, eat dinner, brush my teeth, wash and moisturize my face, and crawl into bed.

That’s my daily routine and I don’t ever change it unless I need to hit the store for personal needs, like food and hygiene items.

On weekends, I go and visit my son. A son that my mother ripped away from me and the courts backed her on. His father is listed as unknown on his birth certificate and I’ve never once told anyone the truth.

Why? To protect them, both of them. There are things I never told Risk while we were together, things that would put him smack dab in the middle of danger.

I suffered in silence, always looking over my shoulder. Even after he shattered me, I loved him enough to keep him in the dark about me and his boy.

Letting my mother take Phoenix from me guarantees his safety and if Risk ever finds out about him, they’ll both be in harm’s way so no matter how much I want to run up to him and tell him about my secrets, I can’t.

I won’t. I’ll let him continue thinking I hate him because it’s the best thing I can do for him.

I don’t know what fantasy world I’d been living in when I let him place that ring over my finger.

In my warped mind, I thought that if I belonged to another, he wouldn’t come looking for his property.

It was a game of jeopardy I was playing, and in the end, I lost.

I was able to stay in the shadows while I was pregnant with Phoenix.

I hid in my mother’s basement, a home that I was taken from as a teenager in the middle of the night.

My mom, to this day, thinks I ran away on that cold, blizzardy night.

And I’ll let her keep thinking that because the truth of my disappearance and our years apart would destroy her.

The only reason I went back to her was because her husband, my stepfather, was no longer in the picture or an obstacle.

Once he had me, he no longer wanted her.

I was the entire reason he led her on, married her, and nearly bankrupted her.

That alone is a guilt trip unlike anything I can define or put into words.

After I gave birth to our son, my mom had me declared mentally unstable due to depression and detachment disorder.

I wasn’t detached, I was cautious but I couldn’t explain that to her without her knowing the truth of things.

Things I’ll never willingly talk to her about.

The court forced my hand and I did some therapy time in a facility which is where Marshall found me.

The day I was discharged, he took me from the parking lot and that’s when I remembered what hell was.

How he’s never learned about Phoenix is a mystery I don’t want to solve.

It’d mean I’d need to do some poking and prodding and that’s a can of worms I don’t want opened.

I’m happy with his oblivion and keep my head down so he doesn’t look into things that took place during the years after my escape.

In this case, his ignorance is my bliss.

My face stays blank as I raise my brows and nod at my husband.

I haven’t filed for divorce because it’s my safety net.

I need to have that sheet of paper, that brand of ownership by him to keep myself moving forward.

That decree and Phoenix are the only two reasons I haven’t taken myself out of the equation.

I may not ever feel Risk’s arms wrapped around me again, but I’ll always have the memory of us and that legally binding tie to him.

I know he won’t file because he swore to me that he never would.

It’s his way of making sure that I’ll be taken care of financially and by his brothers if he meets his maker.

Not that any of that will matter given my circumstances.

He swore his betrayal was only skin deep but his commitment to me was thicker than that.

Those words and promises are what has kept me motivated.

There are days that putting one front in front of the other is an effort.

I’m a kept woman. I have to carry an air tag with me Monday through Friday.

For some damn reason, weekends are mine to do with as I wish.

It’s the one thing that the asshole has to hold over my head to keep me in line.

Taking those two days of freedom away from me would cripple me.

I was cautious in the beginning, still am to a degree, but as the years have passed without incident, I’ve become complacent.

Running into Risk is evident of that.

I came to the store today to buy Phoenix a new toy he’s been asking for.

I didn’t do my due diligence and research the town and its inhabitants.

I moved here because my mother was transferred by her company, and wherever Phoenix is, is where I want to be.

Lucky for me, Marshall doesn’t care where I live as long as he has access to me and I have a web cam and keep the tracker on my person.

He makes a butt load of money off my naked body.

Five days a week I strip in front of a computer, I show parts of myself that should be for my husband’s eyes only, but it’s my survival that takes precedence.

I get a small stipend off what I make, the more money I bring in, the more I have in my pocket.

Working weekends would give me more to line my bank account with, but those are the only days I’ve been granted visitation so I deal with the harsh words from Marshall and provide a show that keeps him mollified for ten hours a day.

Outside of that, I have a part time job for authors.

I’m a reader, it’s my escape from reality.

I taught myself to format and design covers.

That’s the income that I report to the courts while hiding the other part of myself.

I make enough to prove myself fit, and I do, even if it’s by the skin of my teeth.

Soon, designers will be obsolete, a thing of the past, and I’ll have to find another job I can do from home that’ll satisfy the judge watching over my case.

But I’ll cross that road when I don’t have any other choice.

For now, there are honorable authors who want human designers and those are the ones I’ll fight hard to keep.

I’m slowly making a name for myself in that industry under a pseudonym so Marshall never discovers what I do in my free time.

It’s risky and ballsy, but I’ll take whatever chance I have to so I can stay in Phoenix’s life.

Marshall belongs to some organization that deals with more than human trafficking, one that he’s proven is real and not phony. I thought he was bullshitting me the first time he took me, but after he took me to a party where the big wigs were, I believed him.

What blew my mind is that they actually go hunting and looking for young girls and boys that can easily be taken and somehow, I fit into that category: A single mom, a dad who flew the coop, and a problem teenager who’d run away more than once looking for greener pastures.

My life back then fit their mold.

Yes, Mom would look for me, she’d make a report, but it wouldn’t go further than that. I’d never make national news. I’d never be listed as more than a problem child with a history of taking off.

I shake myself out of my gloomy mood and continue walking to the toy aisle.

Being in town with Risk is risky for lack of a better word but it’s out of my hands.

If he were to see Phoenix, he’d know with one glance who his father is.

But since our boy is still in day care and my mom is crazy overprotective of him, that’s the only place he goes outside of the house.

So at least that worry can be crossed off my ever-growing list of concerns. I’m not sure what will happen to me when I become undesirable, but hopefully with the way I’ve handled things, I’ll be set free.

That’s my prayer anyway, no matter how unrealistic it is.

I’m sure they’ll find another use for me or discard me like one would their trash. Either way, as long as I keep my son and my marriage to Risk a secret, whatever happens to me will be worth it.

At the end of the day, my men, they’re worth sacrificing myself for.