Page 45 of Keegan's Promise

I hated living with him, but you take what you can get when you have nowhere else to go. I saved every penny I could to escape. I thought I was just planning to escape the same sad cycle. I never imagined I’d use that money to flee from something so much worse.

And never in a million years did I imagine I’d end up here, with a husband who loves me, friends like Samara, a perfect baby girl, and an actual future stretching before me.

I carry Lily to her crib and settle her in before grabbing the baby monitor. Then, I head to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Eggs are cracked in a bowl, bacon sizzles in a skillet, and I’m slicing strawberries when the doorbell rings. I drop a berry into a bowl and head for the door to let Samara and Scout in, smiling.

I have to stop to disarm the alarm system and then undo the four locks before yanking it open.

“You’re just in…” My voice trails off, fear slithering through my veins.

“Niece,” my uncle growls, staring at me with bloodshot green eyes. “We’ve been looking for you.”

No.

No, no, no.

“W-what are you doing here?” I whisper, my voice shaking. My hands shake too. So damn badly, I nearly drop the kitchen knife.

“You know why,” he says, smirking at me. “You going to invite me in?”

I shake my head in a sharp denial, trying to think through the panic beating in my chest. It threatens to choke me, but I can’t let it. Not right now. Not with Lily inside and this asshole standing on the porch like I’ve done something wrong.

The panic button!

I peek toward the credenza table and see the button Giant gave me weeks ago sitting on top. It’s been in the same spot since Keegan and I moved out of the clubhouse. Giant said it was just an extra safety precaution, something I probably wouldn’t ever need. Except…I need it now. Because he isn’t here yet, and I sent Keegan to work.

“Y-you aren’t coming in here,” I tell Uncle Danny. “You need to leave.”

“Can’t do that,” he says. “You really fucked this all up for us, Landry.”

“I didn’t mess up anything!” I cry. “You sold me to the Sons of Loki, Danny.”

“Yeah, well, it was either you or me, kid.” He doesn’t sound the least remorseful or sorry. Not that I thought he would. In his world, he’s the only one who matters. The only reason he ever kept me around was to clean his house, cook his meals, and help cover his bills. That’s what I’ve always been to him. Not family. Just someone to use to make his life easier.

“They’re trying to take my daughter,” I hiss, furious in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been before. I’ve been afraid. I’ve been in survival mode. But I’ve never been this angry. “Because of you, I’ve spent the last two years in hell.”

“This don’t look like hell to me,” he says, glancing around. “Looks like you did just fine for yourself.”

“No thanks to you!” I shout, inching toward the panic button. “You have no idea what I’ve been through because of you.”

“Garrick would have treated you all right if you’d have just cooperated, Landry. He always liked you.”

I gape at him, horrified. But not really surprised. I guess after you’ve sold someone like cattle, you can justify anything to yourself.

“Guess that don’t make a difference now. Where’s the baby? She’s got to come, too.”

Hell no. I lunge for the panic button, determined to get help here before he gets anywhere near Lily.

“Goddammit!” he roars when he sees what I’m doing. He grabs the back of my shirt, yanking me backward.

I swing the knife toward him, desperate to get free, intending only to scare him off. But he’s a lot closer than I realized. The knife sinks right into his stomach.

His eyes widen, his hands going slack. He stumbles back a step and glances down, shock written all over his face when he sees the blood rapidly spreading across his wrinkled and stained T-shirt. “You stabbed me.”

“I…I…” I slam my hand down on the panic button and then shove him as hard as I can with both hands against his shoulders. He falls backward, landing half inside the door, half outside it with a heavy thud.

I don’t stop to think. I don’t stop to look back. I race to Lily’s room, the bloody knife still in my hand, and scoop her from the crib. My breath rasps in my throat in choked sobs as I rush toward the kitchen door, desperate to get outside before he gets back to his feet and comes after us.

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