Does he know? Of course he does.

Nothing gets by Dexter Black.

He bangs the door behind him, the noise making me flinch.

“Pack up your shit,” he demands, eyes searching the crappy motel room, which is now looking considerably smaller with his hulking presence. He doesn’t look happy with what he sees. In fact, his scowl deepens. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and stares me down, waiting for me to move.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and glaring at him. He’s not the boss of me. Yes, he’s a badass, sexy man who I had one night of hot, passionate sex with, but that doesn’t mean he gets to tell me what to do. I might have liked him bossy in bed, but this right here is a different story.

He takes a deep breath, as if calming himself. “I’ve been looking for you for two days. I’m trying not to lose my fuckin’ temper here, Faye, but you’re pushing me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this patient in my fuckin’ life.”

This is him patient?

“I’m not going anywhere,” I reply, lifting my chin up.

We stare at each other, the tension building.

I can actually feel the moment before he snaps.

His fists clench, and the tightness in his jaw looks almost painful.

I step back, into the frame of the open bathroom door as he loses it.

He picks up the TV and throws it into the wall. The crashing sound makes me jump, but he doesn’t stop there. He punches the wall several times, then slides the few glasses off the table in one smooth movement.

More crashing.

He turns and points his finger right at me.

I gulp.

My eyes widen as he grabs my bag and starts packing anything of mine he comes across. I walk up to him and try to grab it away from him, but one deathly look has me retracting my hand.

“Temper tantrum over?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

He looks down at my bare feet, then at all the glass scattered on the carpet floor. “Don’t move.”

I do as I’m told as he brings me a pair of my shoes. I slide them on then look up at him.

Why does he want me to go with him? What good can come from it? What I need to do is move on with my life, and settle down somewhere quiet and safe. Somewhere without sex-on-a-stick bikers and their douche lord cheating brothers. Somewhere where my parents aren’t around, and I can be myself.

“I just want to be left alone, Dex,” I say, tears forming in my eyes. I’m tired, so fucking tired. My life isn’t meant to be like this, and I hate the fact that he’s seeing me this vulnerable.

I hate it.

I’m not this weak—not usually.

And he’s the last person I’d want to see me like this. He’s strong. Nothing touches him. I have no idea how he would handle me if I broke down right now, which is something I’m seriously close to doing.

“No, you thought running was going to solve your problems. You thought lying was going to solve your problems. You’re lucky my dipshit brother mentioned that you left, and that you were pregnant, or I wouldn’t even know that I was going to have a fuckin’ kid!” he yells, losing his composure.

Talk about kicking me when I’m down.

“I really don’t need your shit right now,” I mutter, looking down at the floor, feeling like the worst person in the world. Because he’s right, I probably wouldn’t have told him. I can’t say what I would have done.

“You would have gone on, wouldn’t you? Your whole life without telling me,” he says in disbelief. “Don’t you think I deserved to have found this out from you?”

I think about lying, but in the end I don’t. I deserve his judgment over this. “Do you really think you could give this kid a good life?”

Wrong thing to say, but I needed to say it because that was my rationalization for leaving without a word. He shuts his expression off from me, his eyes turning cold and hard. “I guess you’re going to find out now, aren’t you?”

“How do you know this kid is even yours?” I ask, lifting my chin up. Why am I poking the tiger? I have no idea.

“I know because the condom broke that night, and you hadn’t had sex with Eric in a while,” he says, staring straight at me. “Or anyone else.”

“The condom broke?” I gape, my eyes flaring.

Well, that explains things doesn’t it?

And who is he? The sex police?

He watches me under his lashes but ignores my comment.

“Grab your shit, Faye, you have five minutes or we leave without it,” he says, sitting down on the bed. I grit my teeth but do as he says, taking my few belongings and packing them back in my bag with efficient ease.

“I’m ready,” I say, avoiding eye contact. He takes the bag from me and hikes it on his shoulder, then holds the door open. I walk out and wait for him to lead me to his car. He walks down toward the car park, and I follow a few steps behind.

“What about my car? It has some of my stuff in it,” I ask him.

“Rake will drive it home,” he says as he opens the door to a black four-wheel drive. He grips my hips and lifts me up onto the seat. My breath hitches at the contact and flashes of our night together enter my mind.

Him braced above me as he grinds into me, sweat dripping down his body.

Me on all fours in front of him, his fingers digging into my hips as he thrusts.

“Faye,” he says, snapping me out of it.

“Huh?”

“What were you just thinking about?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

“Oh, nothing,” I mumble, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

“I’ll bet. I said Rake will handle your car so don’t worry about it.”

“Rake?” I ask, my brows furrowing in confusion. I watch as Dex lifts his head towards the side of the building. I follow his line of sight and see a man leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. He walks over and stands next to Dex.

“So this is what the fuss is all about,” the man named Rake says, checking me out and not being subtle about it.

“I’m Rake,” he says, grinning at me. He’s a good looking man. Blond hair, curling around his face, green eyes, and a panty-dropping smile. He has a lip ring and an eyebrow ring—both suit him perfectly.

“Faye,” I say, managing a small smile.

“I have to drive your car home,” he says. “You owe me, Faye.” Another grin and then he’s off.

Dex sends Rake a look I can’t decipher, then turns to me.

“You okay?” he asks, scanning my face. His expression softens as he looks over me.

“Yeah. Thanks for asking,” I tell him, clearing my throat. He grunts in reply, closing the door and heading to the other side. When he pulls out of the car park, he turns to me.

“You know, I thought you were one of the good ones. I never thought you would do something like this, trying to keep me in the dark about my own kid.”

With that parting shot, which I feel deep in my bones, he drives me back to Perth.

Back home.

Back to where I am trying to escape from.

Back to where my child will have no future.

Chapter Two

Five months ago

“Another high distinction. Well done Faye,” my lecturer says, smiling down at me.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Are you ready for the mock trials next week?” he asks, referring to the mock courtroom cases we participate in as a part of this unit.

“I am. I can’t wait to get into the courtroom,” I tell him.

He smiles. “You’re going to be a great lawyer, Faye.”

“Thank you Sir. I’ll see you next week.”

I smile to myself as I leave uni to drive to my boyfriend Eric’s house. I’m halfway through my law degree, with only two years left. Eric is the same. We’ve been together since we were in grade nine, much to my mother’s dismay. My parents are big on caring what others think, and I’m a constant source of embarrassment for them. What they don’t know is that I’m one of the good ones. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, and I’ve never touched drugs in my life. I’m studious and care about my future. Eric is ambitious as well, which is what I like about him. After we graduate, we are going to start our own law firm, get married, and buy a house. We have a plan, and we’re going to stick to it. I pull into his driveway and check my makeup in the rear view mirror. Wide hazel eyes stare back at me, lined in black kohl. My nose is straight and splattered with freckles, my lips plump and covered in pink gloss. Satisfied with my appearance, I slide out of the car and walk to his front door. The front door is unlocked, which isn’t unusual for Eric’s house, so I don’t think anything of it. His mother is social and is always having her friends over. I walk down the hall, checking my phone messages as I make my way to his room. My eyes are still on my phone as I enter, glancing up only when I hear a noise.