“Is it Vanessa? Is that why you won’t come out? Don’t worry, she won’t be a problem anymore. She left, not long after you did. Took her brat with her, and good riddance, I say. Don’t let that keep us from being together. We’ll make our own babies, and as long as you’ve learned your lessons and can be a good wife, well then, you won’t have to be disciplined anymore. I was only trying to teach you how to please me. You never knew how before, but maybe you’ve finally gotten it through that stupid head of yours.”
Her gut curdled as she listened to him ramble on. His voice kept coming closer, then fading, then the process repeated, like he was pacing.
The shit he was saying was making her sick. But a little tinge of relief washed over her when he said Vanessa and the baby got away from him. She hadn’t even been upset about him having an affair—on the contrary, she’d worried endlessly that he was beating Vanessa like he beat her.
Ana hadn’t been pregnant like she thought, but Vanessa had. And the fate she nearly didn’t avoid had almost become Vanessa’s—and her unborn baby’s.
Thank God they got free and Shawn didn’t care enough to follow.
But why hadn’t Bolt already stopped him? He’d had plenty of time. Unless… unless that motherfucker already hurt him, or worse. She blanched and her gut twisted when her mind stumbled over or worse, and she breathed in through her nose slowly to try to stop the bile rushing up her throat.
Shawn rambled on, blissfully unaware that she was so close, listening and trying not to lose whatever might be left of last night’s dinner. “Of course, perhaps you didn’t learn your lessons as well as I thought you might have. You’re still packing that weight on, aren’t you, Anastasia? It’s not attractive, dear. And you’re not curvy, shapely, full figured, or any of that bullshit people your size say to make themselves feel better. You’re just fat, Stasia. Admitting it is the first step to recovery. It’s so unsightly.”
She could practically see his shiver of distaste, and it was all she could do to not scream out at him. She wanted to shout and yell, to ask why he was so obsessed with her if he found her so unsightly.
To ask why, if he hated everything about her, so much that he had to beat her to change her, why the fuck did he still want her?
And as she glanced down at her curves and felt pride wash over her, she wanted to tell him that she loved her body. That a certain sexy, surprisingly sweet and kind, intimidating biker showed her how her body truly looked to others—and to herself.
That in the course of a few hours, he’d shown her with words, and with actions as he worshipped her body, that she was enough.
Not just enough, but more than enough.
She was smart. She worked for her degree and earned it on her own merits, not because of her last name. She was sexy and beautiful to others, and especially to the man who counted the most. She was kind, she was worthy.
She. Was. Enough.
A sense of empowerment stole over her, firming her spine and pushing the terror back just a bit. Her skin was still crawling from his voice and nearness, and she was still worried out of her mind for Bolt and even herself, but she wasn’t weak and cowering under his fists anymore.
And she never would again.
“Come out, Stasiaaaaa,” Shawn called again, his sing song voice creeping her out. “I’ve already taken out two of these miserable excuses for guards. You come out and then I’ll just need to finish taking care of the fucker who knocked me out when I found you. He’s gonna die very soon, you know.”
Ana’s heart stopped, the blood in her veins freezing at his words. Finish taking care of the man who knocked him out? Fuck. That was Bolt. And that meant he was hurt. Probably unconscious.
And that was why he hadn’t stopped Shawn yet.
She’d been stalling, trying to drag out her decision to face Shawn, and to give her mate the time to take her ex out. Oh, she’d talked a big game about defeating her own demons, and though she knew she should, she also knew herself well enough to recognize what she’d been doing.
There’d been no reason for her to listen as Shawn slowly lost what was left of his fucking mind outside. Sure, she’d gotten a few answers she hadn’t known she needed, but even still. She could have shot him already.
But she’d been too scared to poke her head out the window. Too scared to come face to face with her own personal demon.
And yeah, maybe going outside and letting Shawn know she really was there, letting him have a shot at her, was her very own personal too stupid to live moment. But hadn’t her life since meeting him been one, long moment like that?
And what choice did she have?
Bolt wasn’t going to save her this time. She had to save herself and her love.
Worry worked through her, but she pushed it back. Shawn said he had to go back and kill him. He might be hurt, but he wasn’t dead. She could work with that.
She could work with anything, so long as his heart still beat.
Tuning out her ex’s vile words, she concentrated only on the sound of his voice. She thought he’d been slowly working his way down the wall, getting closer and closer to her window, because at some points, his voice had been so close.
Too close.
A new wave of terror washed over
