I wake up with my head on Tally’s shoulder, and Finn’s head is on mine. His hair is covering his eyes, and my fingers ache to touch it.

I glance around. Everyone in the limo is asleep.

I look over at Finn again, and he seems to be fighting to stay asleep. His eyes shift under his lids, and then his nostrils flare a bit. He inhales before I hear him sigh slightly.

He is beautiful, stunning, handsome, and perfect. He doesn’t look like your typical rocker. The way he dresses isn’t flashy; it’s actually classy with a hint of edge.

Tonight, his grey T-shirt is covered with a black, lightweight jacket. His faded denim jeans rest casually against his black leather, biker-style boots, and he smells clean and masculine like always. He is long, lean, and cut. His clothes don’t hide his amazing build; they enhance it, and my eyes are ever appreciative.

“Hey,” he whispers when his eyes open.

“Hey,” I whisper back.

He closes his eyes again, and his lip curls up ever so slightly. That smirk, smile—whatever he’s doing with his mouth—warms my heart, calms my unease, and almost blankets me.

I feel his hand on mine, his pinky linking around my own, and a feeling other than physical seeps in. It’s a feeling like when he held me while I felt vulnerable about my past or when he helped color my hair. I like this feeling. A lot.

I think I’m happy, and happiness has never come easily. Happiness was found inside the pages of fairytales, tiny hugs, and watching sleeping babies.

Babies. Noah. God, how could I even think of being happy when he needs me? Everyone needs me.

As I look down at Finn again, my chest tightens.

This will not end well.

***

“Sonya. Sonya, wake up. The rooms are ready.”

I open my eyes to see Taelyn Steel.

“When did you get here?” I ask, shocked to see her.

“Long story. We were supposed to be in Houston, but something came up at Steel.”

“Oh, I hope everything is okay.”

She laughs. “Everything is great, actually. Those boys are just very protective of family, and something came up at the last minute. Their poor mother”—she laughs—“has been alone for years. Then she finds a man who loves her, and they act like they’re her father.”

I step out of the limo and stand in front of the place, or should I say palace, that we will stay at for the next three days. It’s nearly three in the morning, but as tired as I am, its beauty is not lost on me.

“Amazing,” I whisper.

“You look exhausted. It’s almost four in the morning. Let’s get in and get some sleep.”

“Where is everyone else?” I ask.

“Memphis carried Tally in. She was sleeping, and he didn’t want to wake her. New love, you know,” she says, walking quickly toward her husband.

“Morning, Sonya.” Xavier nods at me in greeting. “We’ll walk with you. We’re all in poolside suites.”

I nod, following them to the rooms.

Xavier hands me the key card. “This is your room. 168.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Goodnight, Sonya.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Steel.”

“Taelyn is fine,” she corrects me with a smile. Xavier takes her hand, and I hear her whisper, “What’s so funny?” to him.

“Sixty eight,” he says with a smile in his voice.

“That’s funny? You need some sleep,” she whispers back.

“Like a sixty-nine, but you blow me, and I’ll owe you one.” He laughs.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“We’ve never left Patrick. We’re alone for two days, Mrs. Steel.”

She giggles. “Porn sex.”

“Fuck yes.” He holds up his fist, grinning like a mad man.

She bumps it with hers, and then they mock an explosion.

“We are so hot,” he says.

“Fuck yes.” She slides the key through the lock five doors down.

I turn away from them, smiling.

“They’re something, huh?”

I jump when I hear him.

He looks amused before his smile fades. “Oh, shit, did I scare you?” He tosses down his cigarette and walks quickly toward me.

“No,” I try to regain my composure. “You just shouldn’t hide in the bushes and—” I stop as I feel my hand shake while trying to open the door.

I feel all out of sorts, so I hurriedly try to slide the key again as he gets closer.

“Jesus,” he says, taking it from me, sliding it, and then opening the door. “Get in there. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

I look at him. “Pft, it’s really no big deal.”

“It is, dammit.”

“No,” I say. “No, it’s not. It’s stupid. It’s just … stupid. And you know what? It will never, ever change. Ever.” Overwhelmed and still shaking, I feel like I’m going to cry. Who am I trying to kid? How will I ever be normal again outside of those gates surrounding my home? “It’s me, uncut and unedited. Broken and—”

“Stop,” Finn says softly as he walks closer. “I wasn’t thinking. I know better. You’ve been through hell—” I shake my head, and he stops before slowly grabbing my hands. “Tell me what I can do to put you at ease, then.”

I pull my hands back gently. “I just really want to go to sleep. I’m tired.”

His once mucky, now so very clear, eyes look confused. I feel my lip quiver as I turn away. I did that to him.

“I’m seriously fine, Finn. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah.”

I hear his footsteps and then my door open but not close.

I look back over my shoulder as I pull the blanket off the bed to see he’s standing in a doorway between two rooms.

“Our rooms connect,” he tells me. “I’ll leave my door open. If you need anything, let me know.”

I nod. “Thank you. I’m just really tired.”

“I’m closing the door. The other is locked.” He gestures toward the main door. “No one is going to—”

“Fine! Okay! I get it!” The dam breaks.

I want him to go away. I want to be alone. I want a corner to crawl in, someplace to break down so I can build myself up again.

He storms at me, and I instinctively hug my knees and close my eyes, protecting myself like I tried to do that night. I know it’s stupid, but I’m anxious now, and that doesn’t help me when I try to pull it together.

The bed dips beside me, and then his arms surround me. I move until my back is to him as he holds me tightly.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his lips against the back of my head. “No one’s gonna fucking touch you. No one.”

I silently cry with my face buried into my knees, and he doesn’t let go.

I drift asleep, allowing myself to believe him.

***

I wake up to my phone’s vibration from my alarm, the one that tells me “time to take your pill and get out of bed; it’s seven thirty in the morning.” I never needed an alarm after Noah … Well, until I started my business and Aunt Margie insisted I sleep in and that she would care for Noah.

Finn’s passed out, and his boots are still on. I must have kept him up all night.

I remember dreaming—no, I remember nightmares: the slice of the knife across my belly; his words telling me he wished he didn’t have to do this, yet I left him no choice; the second attempted slice when I grabbed the butcher knife in his hand; and then the blow to the back of my head.

I slip out from under Finn’s arm and go into the bathroom, take a quick shower, and blow dry my hair. When I come out, he’s still asleep, looking peaceful.

I see my bags by the door and grab them, taking them to the bathroom to dress. When I come out, he is still in the same spot.

I look at him one last time before I grab the bag of electronics, then head out to find a place to work before my real job begins at ten this morning.

The Texas weather is already hot, especially for an Ohio girl, so I am thankful to find a covered patio area with tables, and it has outdoor fans to move the air around.

I log-on to my blog e-mail and see over seven hundred e-mails of product review requests. I am shocked Margie hasn’t touched them since I left. Hell, she hasn’t even complained. Well, not since I transferred ten grand into the household account.