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  The house was dark and cold when I entered. Not what I was accustomed too. Turning on the living room light, I gasped at the broken furniture, glass and blood still scattered around her living room. My eyes swelled with tears.

  A photo of Loren and I from my high school graduation was near my feet. The glass frame cracked. Luckily the photo itself wasn’t destroyed. I placed the picture on the side table that suffered the least amount of damaged.

  I’m going to find the asshole who did this.

  I strolled through the living room to the laundry room that was attached to the kitchen. Needing to clean the glass off the floor, and organize the broken furniture, I grabbed the broom and dustpan. I had a list of things to do mapped out in my head. Clean the house completely, contact Poochie, annoy the police until they gave me the answers I needed, then hunt the bastard down. I wouldn’t rest until I found who had done this. I strode back into the living room, my mind focused on the task at hand. I had been so focused on cleaning everything up that I didn’t see him until he spoke.

  “I knew you would come here.”

  My head snapped towards the front door. An older man stood in front of the closed door. Something about him seemed familiar.

  I had seen him before.

  “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

  “I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away.” His voice made my skin tremble with fear. I knew that voice. “Loren was beautiful but I knew you would be stunning.” He strolled further into the room. A sly grin appeared on his face. For every step he took forward, I took one backward. “You look so much like your mother. Like my Tara. The blonde hair and the mesmerizing eyes. Beautiful.”

  My mother? Tara?

  Standing before me was my uncle, the man who forced himself on my sister night after night. The man who taught me how to hate at such a young age.

  My hand laced around the broom with a vice grip. The cunning smile on his face told me everything. “You did this? You attacked Loren?”

  “I’m here to claim what was taken away from me. You. Your sister took you away before I had my chance to have you.” The way his tone carried through the house brought back all my fear, all my hatred towards him. He was still the old, beer bellied perv. “But your sister isn’t here now, is she?”

  His steps grew closer to me. My back hit the wall and I stood frozen in place as I waited for his attack. He had wanted me all those years ago and now he had come back to finish what he’d started.

  Frozen with fear I watched as he made his way past the couch to stand merely three feet from where I stood. I gasped for air. I had dreaded the feeling of his hands on me. My eyes must have been tearing because I felt the drop on my hand. It was as though it dropped to awaken me.

  There are moments in your life when it’s just you against the world. The courage that you find deep within yourself, which you never imagined you possessed, is rare and powerful. I was an addict, a fool for love, and obsessed with a man that was marrying another woman.

  The people around me have always protected me. As a small child, Loren moved heaven and earth to ensure I could have a better life. My closest friends Kennedy, Gus, and even Poochie somewhere in our friendship found a way to protect me. Poochie defended me from the bullies in school. Gus had saved me from a rapist. And Kennedy had protected me from the demons that lived inside of me. She helped me get clean.

  Peyton Haas. He was in his own category.

  He found me almost lifeless on my steps, he begged me to get help when I hit rock bottom. He assisted me when I began to build myself back up. He had saved me. But even he couldn’t protect me from what was going to happen.

  This time I was going to learn on my own. I was tossed against the grain, given the choice to live or die. I was going to live, even if I died trying.

  He could only destroy me if I let him.

  I had spent the past nine months training. Both the skills I’d learned at Krav Maga and the running and training I did at CrossFit had built up my endurance. I could take him. I could once and for all defend myself from the man who’d destroyed our lives.

  I gripped the broomstick and swung it at him, but his hand grabbed it before it hit him. “Feisty thing you’ve turned out to be.” His voice made my stomach turn. I pushed the broomstick towards him and ran.

  I sprinted to Loren’s kitchen. The back door was only a few feet away. My hands were mere inches away from the door when I felt Henry’s hands wrap around my hair. “No!” I screeched. I turned my body, my elbow aiming for his chin. He evaded my swinging elbow and dragged me by my hair, slamming my body into the kitchen wall. My head bounced off the sheetrock. The pain blinded me for a second.

  I felt his hands on my jeans, his body pressing against mine.

  “Get off me!”

  His heavy hand landed on my cheek and my head swung to the side. The copper taste in my mouth told me he had drawn blood.

  “Now stay still and I’ll make it quick.” Henry gripped the hem of my T-shirt, attempting to rip it open.

  But I refused to be helpless.

  Lifting my hand with every shred of strength I had, I slammed the base of my palm into his nose. Warm blood oozed onto my hand as Henry stumbled back.

  “Bitch!”

  He balled his hand into a fist and jabbed me in the face. My vision went black. His knee crashed into my stomach, taking the wind out of me and I dropped to my knees in front of him. Henry grabbed my hair and his hand drew back.

  I saw my opportunity.

  I thrust my leg out, kicking his feet out from under him. Henry stumbled back a few steps, enough for me to stand on my feet and smash my forearm to his face. As he cursed, I grabbed a pan from Loren’s countertop and slammed it over his head. He punched my rib cage and I swore I heard something crack. My hand dropped the pan as my body curved from his fist. Henry charged at me and we tumbled on the floor, his heavy body pressed on mine. His hand tugged on my pants.

  I refused to let him touch me.

  I reached above my head and jabbed my thumbs into his eyes, pressing until he lifted off my body from the pain. I slithered away. I was halfway up when Henry gripped my right arm. Twisting it back, I screamed from the pain. He held my arm and kicked my spine, crashing me into Loren’s kitchen table. I kicked backward, connecting my foot with his crotch. Henry’s upper body was bent over as I turned and punched him. My knuckles throbbed, blood splattered off his face, but I refused to stop.

  I had trained for this. I could do this. I could end the pain he had caused Loren and me.

  “You destroyed our lives!” I shouted as my hand slammed into his ribs. “You ruined my sister!” I held his shoulder and shoved my knee to his gut.

  Henry stumbled back. “You fucking bitch.” His words slurred as he grabbed a knife from the knife set. “I’m going to kill you.” He stumbled as he walked toward me.

  My body twirled like I had done many times at the gym before hitting a heavy bag. I swung my leg around with everything I had and kicked him directly in the chest. “That is for my sister, you sick fuck!” Henry’s hands waved in the air. Falling back, his heavy body hit the ground before his hand snapped back, connecting with edge on the cabinet.

  I was in the car with my parents when they died. There wasn’t a scar on my body from that accident. I had witnessed the life vanishing from their eyes. With Henry it was a different story. The second his head snapped back his eyes darkened. The horrific man that abused my sister was gone. Left was the shell of his body.

  He was gone.

  I dropped to the floor a few feet away from, shocked by what had happened, by what I had done. Henry was a horrible person but did he deserve to die?

  Yes.

  The bloodstains on my hands had dried up as I looked over Henry’s dead corpse. The knife he had when he stumbled towards me was inches away from his hand. My body shook from the shock, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I had killed him.

  But it was self-defense.

  I had t
aken his life.

  It was self-defense.

  I stood, relieving my aching knees from the pain of kneeling and walked over to where my purse sat on the floor. I had to call for help. I needed to report what had happened. But I couldn’t dial 911. I had killed a man with my bare hands. I was going to need a lawyer. A defense attorney. Without seconding guessing it, I held my phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” His voice came in clear over the small speaker on my phone.

  I couldn’t form the words. My breathing grew irregular with each passing second as reality set in.

  “Braelynn, what is it?”

  “I killed him,” I whispered.

  “What did you say?” His voice was crisp.

  “He’s dead . . . I came to . . . and he attacked . . . and now he’s . . . I killed him . . .” I began to sob.

  “Where are you?” he barked.

  “Loren’s . . .” My weight became too much for my feet and I fell to the ground.

  “Don’t move, don’t leave, and do not call the police. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Do you understand me?”

  I rested my head on the side of the couch and closed my eyes. “Yes.”

  It took Peyton twenty-three minutes. I knew the exact time because I sat on the living room floor watching the time pass on my phone as my hand trembled with fear.

  “Braelynn, it’s me.” I heard his voice; the door handle shook as he turned to open it.

  My body ached, I heard the door swing open, his long strides moved across the living floor and he knelt in front of me. The adrenaline that masked the pain was gone. My ribs ached making it hard to breathe. My head throbbed and the skin around my eyes felt puffy. I held my arm close to my body since the pain seemed to be growing.

  “Are you okay?” His hands were on my cheeks looking at my face. His fingers softly touched my tender eyebrow and lips.

  My composure vanished with his touch. Resting my forehead on his chest, I began to weep.

  “Hey, look at me. Tell me what happened.” His voice was soothing, comforting me as it had always done. Brushing the back of my head, he lifted my chin with his free hand.

  Inhaling, I wiped my dripping nose before I spoke. “I came back here to clean up a bit since Loren was still unconscious and I needed to do something other than look at her limp body. He caught me off guard when he just showed up. He said he came to reap what I owed him.

  “It all happened so quickly. I had a broom in my hand when he came at me. I tried to hit him, but I missed. I sprinted to the kitchen trying to escape. But he was fast. He yanked me by the hair and slammed my head into the wall, but I struck him a couple of times across his face. He stumbled back and I saw the only opportunity I had to fight back. I grabbed a frying pan from the stove and swung it across his head. But he managed to hit me a couple of times.”

  I touched my face, my lip was swollen. “He was running towards me with a knife and I kicked him straight in the chest. The knife flew out of his hand as he fell back. His head snapped back and hit the edge of the cabinet.

  “Did you call the police after he went down?”

  “No, I was too afraid.” I wrapped my arms around his body, pulling myself close to him.

  He lifted me off the floor sat me on the couch and kneeled in front of me. “Braelynn, it was self-defense. You did what you had to do.”

  “I killed him.” I looked at my red stained fingers. “With my bare hands, I killed him. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him to feel the pain he caused my sister.”

  “You had to. Henry wasn’t going to stop until he hurt you. This was what he had planned all along. I’m going to call the police.”

  I watched as Peyton retrieved his phone from his back pocket and dialed 911. As he explained what had happened to the operator, something he’d said stuck with me. When he finished his conversation, I looked up at him.

  “What did you mean this was his plan? And how the hell did you get here so quickly.”

  “We’ll talk about it after we’ve dealt with the authorities.” He sat next to me and brushed my hair back.

  “No.” I turned to face him. “I want to know now.”

  “Henry came to see me the day you got the job at the DA’s office.”

  “What?” I pushed further away on the couch. “You knew he was around, and you didn’t say anything?”

  He ignored my question and continued to speak. “Your Aunt Tara passed away a few years after you and your sister moved east. Henry started working at the state prison and transferred over to a federal prison a couple of years ago. It’s the same prison Drew is in.”

  “Drew? This doesn’t make any sense. Henry attacked Loren and then me. He said nothing about Drew.”

  “Drew is my brother.” And just like that he dropped another bomb on me.

  “Your . . . What? I’m confused.”

  “Can we discuss this after we’ve talked to the cops?”

  “No, I want an explanation right now!”

  “Okay.” He laced his hands with mine. “It’s a complicated story, Braelynn, but know I did everything I could to protect you.”

  “Tell me the truth. The whole truth. From the beginning,” I ordered.

  “Richard, the man who adopted me, had always loved my mother but she was infatuated by Sam’s charms. So much so that she got pregnant with me. When my mother realized she was pregnant, Sam wanted nothing to do with her but Richard still loved her. He married her, and the day I was born, he signed the birth certificate as if I was his and never spoke about it again.

  “But Sam had done the same thing to Drew’s mother and his hatred towards me ran deep. My parents gave me everything. The best schools, family trips around the world—I never went without. Drew, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky.”

  Haas dropped on his knees in front of me. “Drew attacked you because of me. He knew I loved you, and the only way he could hurt me was by hurting you. Henry showed up at the office the day you interviewed with the DA. He blackmailed me into leaving you. The video he was blackmailing me with would destroy us both. Destroy any chance you had at a career. I had no inkling that this would escalate to him harming you.” He brushed my hair back.

  “You lied to me.” It was the only thing that rang in my head. For months, he’d told me that it was complicated.

  “I did it to keep you safe.” His voice was low.

  “No.” I stood, shaking my head at him. “You did it because you were selfish. You could have told me. You could have had Melissa tell me. You could have asked Thomas to relay the message. Hell, when we were in the guest house alone at your engagement party you could’ve said something.” A new wave of anger flooded my mind. “You could have warned me that Henry was in town. You knew what he had done to Loren!”

  “I would never have put you in harm’s way.” He rushed to my side. His arms holding my shoulders. “We both know how you are when you get something in your head. I did everything I could to keep you safe.”

  “Look around you, Peyton!“ I shook away from his hold, my uninjured arm waved frantically in the air. “There’s a dead body in the other room and it could have been mine.” My hands slammed on his chest. “Tell me what you did to keep me safe.” My fingers poked at his chest with fury. “All you did was repeatedly break my fucking heart! You coward. You let me believe you were marrying someone else but yet you crawled into my bed. You fucked with my emotions, screwing me over until I could no longer think on my own.”

  “That was never the plan.” Peyton grabbed my hands, his lips pressing on the back of them. “I never wanted to break your heart, but I couldn’t stay away from you. I love you, Braelynn.”

  “Then what was the plan?” The pain in my shoulder was sharp as I pulled my hands away, making me whimper. “Marry Devon and keep knocking on my door? Never letting me have a single relationship because you think I belong to you?”

  “You do belong to me.”

  “No, I don’t! The truth of your self-centeredness
has set me free. I can finally breathe again. I said you were a coward and now I see the truth. Look at what your lies have caused. I can finally think about you and not want to cry because I hate you so much more than I love you. I don’t belong to you anymore. The power you had over me is gone.”

  I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed back my words. His eyes were locked on mine, defeat appeared on his face. “Do you still love me?” He looked at me through his hooded eyes. A part of me wanted to reach up to him and caress his face, I wanted to wipe away the pain I saw in it. But my hate for him didn’t allow me to touch him.

  “How does that change anything that has happened? What’s the point? How could I ever look at you the same again? I could’ve died here. Henry could have killed Loren.” My body trembled in disbelief. The images of my life these past six months began to unfold before me. Him showing up at my door. Devon wearing my engagement ring. He knew all along and continued to lie to me.

  He nodded. “Do you still love me, Lynn? It’s a yes or no question.”

  The ring of the doorbell startled me. Did I still love him? “Yes,” I shook my head, “but I can’t do this anymore.” I began to walk towards the door.

  “Braelynn, wait! Just wait a minute.”

  “Haas, there is no point of this. To us. The damage is done. The question of love is irrelevant.” My hand waved between our bodies. I turned abruptly and headed towards the front door.

  “Just hold on a second.”

  I stopped and waited for him to speak; my back was still turned to him.

  “This past year—no, not the past year—since the day I’ve met you, the only thing I’ve learned is that I can’t exist without you. I can’t function without you. You’re everything to me. I would kill to protect you!”

  “Haas”

  “No. You mean everything to me. And I know that you belong to me, with me. Regardless of how mad or hurt you are, I need another chance to make it right. You need to give me another chance! I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  I twirled around and wrapped a single arm around his neck. It was a moment of weakness, but his words melted my damaged heart. His mouth crashed over mine. The tears streamed down my face like a waterfall.