WHATHEREASONS(WHATHE

WANTS,BOOKTWENTY-FIVE)

HANNAHFORD

CONTENTS

WANTTOBEINTHEKNOW?

WHATHEREASONS

BETTERWHENIT’SWRONGbyChloeHawk

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WHATHEREASONS

(WHATHEWANTS,BOOKTWENTY-FIVE)

WHATHEREASONS

(WHATHEWANTS,BOOKTWENTY-FIVE)

HARLOTTE

ail.

Dependingonwhoyoubelieved,itwaseitherthekindofplacewhereyou’dget

killedintheshower,orthekindofplacewhereyouwenttomakestrongfriendshipsfor
therestofyourlife.Isuspectedthatthetruthwassomewhereinthemiddle.

AfemaleofficerbythenameofOfficerJansenbookedmein.

She was nice but efficient, and despite the fact that I got the sense this was totally

routineforher—apartofherworkdaysocommonitseemedasifshefounditmundane
—itwasoneofthemosthumiliatingexperiencesofmylife.

First,sheenteredallofmyinformationintoacomputer.

“Name?”sheasked,almostbored,herhandspoisedoverthekeyboard.

“CharlotteHolloway.”Iwassittinginachairflankedbytwootherofficers,likethey

thoughtIwasgoingtotakeoffrunning.Whichwouldhavebeentotallyimpossible.Iwas
stillhandcuffed.Igotthesensethatthehandcuffsandtheguardsweren’tusuallyneeded,
thatIwasbeinggivenspecialtreatmentbecauseI’dbeenaccusedofmurder.Andnotthe
kindofspecialtreatmentyouwanted.

“Speakup,”OfficerJansenbarked.

“CharlotteHolloway.”Mymouthwasdry,andIlickedmylipsandswallowedinan

efforttomakemyvoicesoundnotashoarse.

“Dateofbirth.”

Iansweredtherestofherquestions,andthenIwasledintoasmallroom,wherethey

stoodmeinfrontofacamera.

Twoflashes,frontandtotheside,andmymugshotwasdone.

Mybodyandmindwereonautomaticpilot.Ishouldhavebeenpanicked,butIdidn’t

feelanything.Iwasnumb.Iwasn’tthinkingabouthowseriousthiswas,wasn’tthinking

about the fact that I was pregnantand about to be thrown into jail. I felt like I was in a
dream, like the things that were happening to me were actually happening to someone
else.

After my mug shot, they uncuffed me and took my fingerprints. My fingers were

pressed against a square on an IPad, which lit up under the pressure, letting the officer
knowthattheprinthadbeenaccepted.

Thencametheworstpart.

Thestripsearch.

Iwasmadetotakemyclothesoff.

OfficerJansenlookedthroughthem,makingsureIdidn’thaveanyweaponsordrugs,

thentoldmetosquatandcough.

She did this with a formality that I appreciated, a clinicalness that made the whole

thingfeelimpersonal.Forsomereason,Ifeltasifitwouldhavebeenworseifshewere
warm.

Iwasallowedtoputmyclothesbackonafterthat,whichmademeextremelythankful

–I’dassumedtheywouldhavegivenmeaprison-issuedjumpsuitorsomethingsimilar.

The thought of a prison jumpsuit made my skin crawl. The place wasn’t exactly a

bastion of cleanliness, and from the looks of the people who’d also been waiting to get
booked–nottomentiontheputridsmellthathungintheair,amixofurine,bodyodor,
andstalecigarettesmoke–Iwasafraidthataprisonjumpsuitwouldgivemeaninfection
orworse.

Aftermystripsearch,theytookbloodtocheckforanySTDsImightbebringinginto

their pristine prison (no STDs here, officer, just a baby haha — which they said they
wouldalsotestfor),andthenplacedmeintoaholdingcell.

Thereweretwogirlsinthecellwithme.

One of them was clearly on something, and she kept slamming her head against the

wall.Inbetweenslams,sherantothebarsandscreamedbloodymurder.

Theotherwomanwaswearingshortblackshortsandacroptop,herhairslickedback

into a sleek ponytail. She wore hot pink lipstick and seemed bored by the whole entire
process.

“Firsttime?”sheaskedme.

Istayedquiet.

One thing I’d learned from watching movies was that you were never supposed to

interactwiththeotherprisoners.Ifyoudid,theythoughtyouowedthemsomething.

Sherolledhereyes.“Youwatchtoomuchtv,huh?Heardyouaren’tsupposedtotalk

topeople?”

“No,” I said automatically, shaking my head and hating how defensive I sounded. I

wished I was one of those people who gave off that air of ‘don’t fuck with me’ but I
didn’t.

“Relax, sweetie, no one wants to fuck you.” She gave me a smile, like she couldn’t

believehowstupidIwas.“Yourtitsaretoobigforme.Ilikethemtiny.Strungout.”

“Ididn’t…Imean,I’mnot–”

“Holloway,”anofficeratthedoorbarked.Heslidthekeyintothelockandopenedthe

bars.“Yourlawyer’shere.”

“Mylawyer?”Irepeateddumblyastheguardbegantocuffme.

“Yourlawyer,NoahCutler.”

“Woooweee,” the woman in the black shorts said, looking at me with new respect.

“Cutler,huh?Youmusthavemoney.”Shewinked.‘Maybeyou’remytypeafterall.”

“Knockitoff,Dori,”theguardsaid.“Leavethenewbiesalone.”

I got the feeling the guard didn’t really give a crap about newbies, and that he just

didn’twanttohavetodealwithwhatwouldhappenifDoridecidedshewantedtogoafter
meorsomething.

Hegrabbedmyarmandpulledmedownthehall,Doriandtheotherwomanshouting

afterus.

oah was waiting for me in a room similar to the room in which we’d met Lilah
Parks that night. Only this time, I wasn’t here to interview a potential client. This

timeIwastheonewho’dbeenaccusedofacrime.

Hewassittingatametaltable,hishandsfoldedinfrontofhim.

Hewaswearingagreysuit,awhiteshirt,andagreytie.

Ididn’tknowhowhe’dknownIwashere–Ihadn’tyetbeenallowedtomakeaphone

call. No one had even mentioned one, and I realized someone must have called him.
SomeonemusthavelethimknowIwashere,aguardoranofficer,or…someonehehada
connectionto.

AssoonasIsawhim,allIwantedtodowasruntohim,tofeelhisarmsaroundmeas

hewhisperedinmyearthatitwasallgoingtobeokay.

Iexpectedhimtorise,toruntomelikeIwanted,butinsteadhejustsatthere,acrisp

newlegalpadinfrontofhim,hisphoneandaniPadplacedinfrontofhimonthetable.

Theguardreleasedme.

“Uncuffher,”Noahbarked.

“She’sbeingchargedwith–”

“Uncuffher.”

Theguardsighedanduncuffedme,thenlefttheroom.

IsatdownacrossfromNoah,andsuddenly,beingsoclosetohim,thefullimpactof

mysituationhitme.Ithitmelikeanoverwhelmingwave,stealingthebreathfromme.

“Did they hurt you?” Noah asked. He averted his eyes and picked up his pen, wrote

mynameandthedateonthelegalpadinfrontofhimasifIwereanyotherclient.

Ishookmyhead,becauseIcouldn’tspeak.ButsinceNoahwasn’tlookingatme,he

didn’tsee.

Helookedupsharply.“Didtheyhurtyou?”herepeated,moreharshandpointedthis

time.

Ishookmyheadandmanaged.“No.”Mythroatwasdryagain,andagainIlickedmy

bottomlipandswallowed.Mylipsfeltchappedandraw,whichmadenosense.Ihadn’t
beenherethatlong,andmylipshadbeenfinethismorning.

Noahlookedatmecarefully,thenpressedabuttononthesideofthetable.Aspeaker

crackledtolife.

“Yes?”Theguard’svoicecamethroughthespeaker,halfannoyed,halfbored.

“Myclientwouldlikeaglassofwater.”

“AndIwanttobeKingofEngland.”Theguardlaughedatthis,likeitwasthefunniest

jokeever,eventhoughitwasridiculouslystupid.

“Getheraglassofwater,orI’llletthejudgeknowhowmyclientwasn’tallowedto

makeaphonecallandhadtowaituntilIshowedupheretobeabletotalktome.”

“That’sbullshit,”theguardscoffed.“Shewasn’tevenhereforanhourbeforeyou–”

“Now,”Noahbarked.

Thespeakercutoff,andasecondlater,anotherguardappearedandsetapapercupfull

ofwaterinfrontofme.Igulpeditdownquickly.Itwassurprisinglycoolandfresh,andit
tastedamazing.

Noah watched me carefully as I drank. I forced myself to stop when there was half

left.

Isetthecupdown.“Thankyou.”

“You’llbearraigned,”hesaid.“Buttheyhavenocaseandtheyknowit.”

I snorted. “They obviously feel like they have a case, Noah, or they wouldn’t have

arrestedme.”Theonethingprosecutorsdidn’twanttodowasarrestsomeonetheydidn’t
thinktheycouldproveacaseagainst.Thatwaspoliticalsuicide,andNoahknewthatmore
thananyone.

“Doyouknowhowanarraignmentworks,Charlotte?”heasked,ignoringmydefense.

“Yes,ofcourseIknowhowanarraignmentworks,Noah.”

“Thenhowdoesitwork?”Hisvoicewascold,likehewasintentionallytryingtotrip

meup.

“I’llgoinfrontofthejudge,”Isaid.“Sheorhewillreadthechargesandaskformy

plea.”

“Youwill,ofcourse,pleadnotguilty.”

“Ofcourse.”Astatisticflashedthroughmymind,somethingIrememberedreadingin

one of my criminal law textbooks. It was something about how ninety percent of cases
werepleadedout,whichmeanttheyneverwenttotrial.Thatmeantthatninetypercentof
peopleendeduppleadingguiltysothattheycouldavoidatrial.

In some cases, obviously this would make sense. The district attorney’s office might

offeryouprobationorafineor30daysinjail,asentenceorpenaltythatmightbeapain
intheassbutwouldallowyoutomoveonwithyourlifewithouttoomuchtrouble.Ablip
ontheradarwasmuchbetterthangoinginfrontofajury,whomightfindyouguilty,and
ajudge,whomightsentenceyoutoyearsinprison.

ButthiswasmurderIwaschargedwith.

Murder.

Icouldn’tpleadoutinamurdercase.

Pleadingguiltytomurderwasn’tlikepleadingguiltytobeingcaughtwithalittlebitof

marijuana or something. It didn’t get you a slap on the wrist and a trip to a probation
officeronceamonth.Itgotyouprisontime.Alotofit.

Ifeltmyheadstarttogetlight,andmyvisionstartedtoswim.

IwasdimlyawareofNoahcallingmynameastheroombegantogoblurry.

“Headbetweenyourlegs,”hecommanded,andthenhewasthere,nexttome,hishand

onmyback.“Deepbreaths.”Hisvoicewasstrongandsteadyasherubbedthebackofmy
neck.Histouchwaswarmandcomfortingonmyskin,andafterafewmoredeepbreaths,
Istartedtofeelbetter.

Isatupslowlyandtookanothersipofmywater.

“Better?”heasked,andIlookedupathim.Hisvoicewashardassteel,hisjawsetina

firmline,butIcouldseeaflashofemotioninhiseyes.

“Yes.Better.”Itookinanotherdeepbreath,inthroughmynoseandoutthroughmy

mouth.

Noah sat back down and I reached my hands across the table, wanting him to take

them.Iwasdesperateformoreofhistouch,hisfingersentwinedwithmine,something.

Instead,heleanedbackinhischairandlookedatme.Hewasintimidatingsittingthere

in his expensive suit, his eyes serious, his expression determined. “We haven’t talked
aboutwhetherornotyou’veagreedtohavemerepresentyou.”

“Ididn’tthinkIhadachoice,”Isaid,givinghimawrysmile.Itwasmylameattempt

atajoke,buthedidn’tsmile.

“A murder charge is very serious, Charlotte. A good lawyer can make all the

difference.”

“Funnyhowyoudidn’tseemtothinkamurderchargewasallthatseriouswhenyou

weretheoneaccusedofit.”Irememberedhisattitudebackthen,howflippanthe’dbeen,
howhe’dactedlikeitdidn’tmatter.

“Thisisn’taboutme,Charlotte.”

“It’sneveraboutyou.”Irolledmyeyes,notsureifIwastryingtomakeajokeornot.

“Charlotte.” He was still looking at me somberly, that same look of steely

determinationonhisface,hisshoulderspushedback,hisstrongjawset.Myeyesfellto
hislegalpad,wherehe’dwrittenmynameandthedate,andunderlinedittwice.

AndthenIunderstood.

He was letting me know that if he was going to be my lawyer, it was going to be a

strictly client/lawyer relationship. Not the kind of relationship where either one of us
couldletouremotionsgetinvolved.Weneededtohaveclearheadsinordertomakethe
bestdecisions.Thestakesweretoohigh.

Butwhatdidthatmean?Iwondered.Diditmeanthatwhenweweren’there,hewas

going to be shut down, too? And after what he’d told me, about how he’d gotten that
doctor pregnant, how she’d lost the baby and how he’d always blamed himself, I
wonderedifthiswasjustanexcuseforhimtoshutmeout.

NottomentionthatIwaspregnant.

AndIhadn’teventoldhim.

Ineededtotellhim.

Rightnow.

Tellhim.

Stop,Itoldmyself.Stopandthinkaboutthis.Takeitonestepatatime.

Myhandscurledintofistsatmysides.

Noahwasright.

Thiswasserious.

Weneededtobesmartandfocused.

Iwasinnocent.

Ihadn’tkilledJasonCartwright.Sowehadthatonourside,whichalotofdefendants

didn’t.

Noah was the best criminal defense lawyer in New York, maybe even the entire

country.

Andifhewantedtorepresentme,thenIwouldlethim,evenifitmeantIwasgoingto

havetogetovermyselfandstopworryingabouthowNoahwasgoingtobewhenhewas
inlawyermode.Becauseifwedidn’twinthiscase,thenI’dbeinjail.Foralongtime.

ButIstillhadtoask.

“Whataboutwhenwe’rehome?”Iasked.

Heswallowed,andforasplitsecondIsawthelonginginhiseyes,sawhowbadlyhe

wantedtoleapacrossthetableandgathermeinhisarms,totakecareofme,tocomfort
meandtellmeeverythingwasgoingtobeokay.

Hisfirstinstinctwasalwaystoprotectme,andhewasrailingagainstthatnow.AndI

lovedhimforit.

“Whenwe’rehomeeverythingwillbethesame.”Hishandstightenedaroundtheside

of the table, so hard that his knuckles turned white. He was physically having to keep
himselffromrushingtome.

Itookinanotherslowbreath.Howcouldthingspossiblybethesamewhenwewereat

home?Therewasareasondefendantsweren’trepresentedbypeopletheyknew.

But what choice did I have? Some other lawyer that I knew nothing about? I would

neverbeabletotrustsomeonethewayItrustedNoah.

“Fine,” I said, nodding. I reached up and wiped away my tears with the back of my

hand.“Thenweneedtotalkaboutthearraignment.”

“It’sinanhour.”

“An hour?” I shook my head. “There’s no way that’s enough time to prepare.” I

glanced at myself in the mirror that hung on one of the walls. Client conversations with
theirlawyersweresupposedtobeconfidential–thetwo-waymirrorswereonlysupposed
to be utilized during times of interrogation by police. But you could never be too sure.
Besides,two-waymirrorsweren’treallyevenusedanymore.

Mostofthejailsnowhadrecordingdevices.

Iglancedupatthewall.

Sureenough,acamerahungneartheceilinginthecorner.

Itslightwasoff.

I was almost positive the police weren’t going to try anything shady, especially not

withNoah.Butyoucouldneverbesure.

Which was another reason for Noah to be my lawyer. Unfettered access to him, any

timeofday.

“Lookatme,”Isaid,glancingatmyselfinthemirror.“I’mamess.”IwasluckythatI

wasstilldressednicely,inapairofblackpantsandacream-coloredsweater.Imayhave
only been going to a doctor’s appointment that morning, but I’d dressed up because I’d
wantedtoimpressDr.Solomon,sinceshewasNoah’sex-girlfriend.

God,howstupidI’dbeen,howdifferentmyworldwasjustafewhoursago!

Myhairwaspulledback,butstrandshadescapedfrommyhairtieandfrizzedaround

myface.

Mysweaterhunglooselyononeshoulder,likeithadbeenpulledandstretchedout.

“Ican’tgoinfrontofajudgelikethis.”

“Youabsolutelycangoinfrontofajudgelikethat.”

I reached up to smooth my hair, but Noah reached over and grabbed my wrist,

stoppingme.Themotioninstantlysentashockwavethroughme,mybodyrespondingto
histouch.

“Don’t,”hecommanded.

“Ilooklikeamess!”

“Good.”

“Whyisthatgood?”

“Becauseyoulookexactlylikeyoushouldlookifyou’djustbeenarrestedforacrime

youdidn’tcommit.”

HeletmyhandgoandIreturnedittomylap.Noahwasright.Icouldn’tshowupin

courtlookingtooperfect.OtherwiseitwouldseemasifIweretooglib,asifIdidn’tcare
that I’d been arrested for murder. A normal innocent person would be distraught and
messy.

Inodded.“Okay.Whatelse?”Thiswashelping.Havingaplangavemesomethingto

focuson.ItwaslikeanoutlineforapaperIhadtowriteorsomething.Numberone,the
arraignment.PointAofNumberOne,looklikeawomanwho’dbeenaccusedofacrime
shedidn’tcommit.

“Thejudgewillsetyourbail.”Hishandtightenedagainaroundthetableagain,andI

knew he was trying not to get emotional. He knew he couldn’t. If he did, I would fall
apart,andheknewit.

“Itwillbehigh.”

“Iwilltakecareofit.”

Inodded,knowingtherewasnothingthatIcoulddotodissuadehimfromthis.Iknew

hewouldgladlygiveeverypennyheearnedtomakesureIdidn’thavetospendanother
minuteinjail.

Andluckily,itwouldn’tcometothat.Evenwithahighbail,therewasnowayitwould

evenbeadropinthebucketofhisbillions.

“Okay,”hesaid.“Allyouhavetodoisstaycalm.Trynottofreakout.Iwilltakecare

ofeverything.Doyouunderstand?”

“Yes.”Inodded.“Yes,Iunderstand.”

Heswallowed,hisvoicesoftening.“Howareyoudoing?”

IopenedmymouthtosayIwasokay,butthewordswouldn’tcomeout.Itwaslike

theyweresofarfromthetruththatmybodywouldn’tallowmetosaythem.

Instead,Ithoughtofthebabyinsideofme.

Tellhim.

ButIdidn’tknowifIcould.

Notnow.

Notwhenwewereabouttogoinfrontofajudge.

ButhowcouldIkeepsomethingsohugefromhimforevenasecondlonger?

Luckily,thedoorbuzzedthen,savingmefromhavingtomakeadecision.

Theguardcamein.

“We’lltakehertothecourthousenow,Mr.Cutler.”

Noahnodded.“Ifshegetssomuchasascratchonherwaythere…”hetrailedoff,not

finishinghisthreat,andtheguardlookedlikehewasgoingtomakeasmartcomment,but
thenthoughtbetterofit.

“I’llseeyouinafewmoments,Charlotte,”Noahsaid.

AndthenIwasbeingledoutoftheroom.

heyloadedmeintoatransportvan,handcuffsbackonmywrists.

WhenIgotinsidethecourthouse,theytookthehandcuffsoffme.

I was led into a holding room, where Noah was waiting, and then we were brought

intothecourtroom.

Assoonaswesatdown,Iglancedovertowardwheretheprosecutorwassitting,but

hewasturnedawayfromme.AllIcouldseewerebroadshouldersandthebackofadark
suit.

Thejudgecameintotheroom,andweallrose.

“The State of New York vs. Charlotte Holloway,” the judge recited, adjusting his

glassesashemotionedforustositdown.ThenameplateinfrontofhimsaidJudgeRyan
Nolan.ItriedtorememberifI’dheardanywhispersabouthimatschool–lawstudents
lovedtogossipaboutalltheNewYorkjudges—butmymindwasblank.“Wearehere
foranarraignment,solet’smakethisquick.”JudgeNolanglancedupatme.“Thecharge
isfirstdegreemurder.Whatdoyouplead,Ms.Holloway?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor.” It was the only time I would have to speak, and I was

surprisedathowstrongmyvoicesounded.

Thejudgenodded,asifthiswereexpected.

“Thestateisaskingthatnobailbesetinthiscase,”theprosecutorsaid.

Myheartleaptintomythroatatthewords,andIturnedtolookathim.Hewasatall

man, handsome, about Noah’s age. He had dark hair brushed back from his face, and
strikingblueeyes.Iknewhim.Oratleast,Iknewofhim.

PennDylan.

Thedistrictattorney.

More specifically, the brand new district attorney, the youngest in New York City’s

history. He’d just taken the job a couple of months ago. My classmate Cora had been
obsessed with how hot he was, and she loved finding him on google images and then
shovingherphoneinmyfacewhilemakingcommentsaboutwhatshe’dliketodotohim.

But what was Penn Dylan doing here? Usually the district attorney didn’t appear in

person,especiallynotatasimplearraignment.

Itwasabadsign.

Itmeanttheyweretakingthisseriously,thatmycasewasimportant,high-profile,and

onetheyintendedtowin.

IglancedoveratNoah,buthewasstaringdownathislegalpad,givingnoreactionto

thebombshellnewsthatthestatewasrequestingIbeheldwithoutbail.

“Goodafternoon,YourHonor,”PennDylansaid,asifhe’djustgottenhereandhadn’t

already spoken. He rose from his chair like royalty and buttoned his suit in one smooth
movement.

“Goodafternoon,”thejudgesaiddrily.Heseemednononsense,andIcouldn’ttellif

thiswasagoodthingorabadthing.

“YourHonor,wehavereasontobelievethatthedefendantisaflightrisk,andgiven

theseverityofthecharges,weareaskingthestatetodenybail.”

“That’sridiculous,”Noahsaid,standingupandrollinghiseyesindisgust.He sighed

as if he couldn’t believe the kind of childish antics he was being forced to put up with.
“Myclienthasnopreviouscriminalrecord,andthestate’scaseagainstheristhinatbest,
recklessatworst.”

“Withallduerespect,Judge,thedefendant’scounselhasnoideawhatthestate’scase

againsthisclientis,asdiscoveryhasn’tstartedyet.”PennDylanturnedtolookatNoah.
“It’sverypresumptuousofhim.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “My client has ties to the community, and has no problem

surrenderingherpassportasaconditionofherbail.”

“Your client hasn’t been attending law school, has access to an immense amount of

moneyduetothefactthatthetwoofyouareinvolvedinaromanticrelationship,andhas
noclosetiestoherfamily.”Iclosedmyeyes,rememberingthearticleinthepaper,theone
withthequotefrommymother.That’swhathemusthavebeenreferringtowhenhesaidI
wasn’tclosetomyfamily.

“YourHonor,theprosecutor’soverreachiscompletelybasedonfantasyandfallacyof

law,althoughnotsurprisinggivenhishistory,”Noahsaid.Hishistory?Whatthehelldid
that mean? My stomach rolled. “I understand that he’s eager to prove himself, but such
egregioususeofthecourtstofurtherone’sowncareerisdisgusting.”Icouldtellhewas
upset, could tell he was about to maybe lose his temper, which definitely wouldn’t help
our case. I remembered the stories I’d heard about him before I met him, that he was
ruthless,thathewoulddoanythingtowin,thathewashotheadedandcrazy.

“Mr. Cutler, do you have anything that would compel me to believe that your client

won’ttrytorun?”thejudgeasked.

Idid,Irealized.

Ihadtheperfectthing.

Thethingthatwouldabsolutelykeepmefrombeingconsideredaflightrisk.

IputmyhandonNoah’swrist,andsaidhisnamesoftly.

Helookedannoyedattheinterruption,butbentdowntolistentowhatIhadtosay.

“I’mpregnant,”Iwhisperedagainsthisear,socloseIwasalmostsureIcouldfeelhis

pulseagainstmylips.

Heshowednoreaction.“Well,”hesaid.“Thatwilldoit.”

ybailwassetat5milliondollars,andafterNoahmadearrangementsforittobe
posted,Iwasgivenbackmypersonalbelongingsandreleased.

Wedrovebackhomeinstonysilence.

When we got inside the apartment – moving past the security guards who were still

stationedoutsideourdoor—Noahthrewhiskeysdownonthekitchencountertop,andit
hadbeensilentforsolongthatthesoundwasjarring.

Ijumped.“Noah–”

“You need to eat something,” he said, cutting me off. He pulled out his phone and

openedadeliveryapp,startedpushingbuttons,choosingthingsformetoeatwithouteven
consultingme.

“Ican’teat.”Ishookmyhead.

“Are you sick?” He looked up quickly, his gaze sliding down to my stomach, and I

knew what he was thinking. Morning sickness. At least, that’s what it was normally
referredto,butIknewfromallthepostersthathadbeenhunginthedoctor’sofficethat
morningsicknesscouldhityouanytime.

“I’mnotsick.Imean,notlikethat.”

“Thenyoushouldeat.”Hefinishedplacingtheorder,thenplacedhisphonedown.

“Arewegoingtotalkaboutthis?”

“Abouthowyou’repregnanteventhoughyouknewthatIhadforbidthat,orthatyou

thoughtitwouldbeappropriatetoletmeknowwhilewereinthemiddleofacourtroomin
frontofajudge?”

I stared at him, aghast. “You forbid it? What is this, the 1800s? You can’t forbid

someonefromgettingpregnant,Noah,that’snothowitworks.”

He crossed the room to the bar and pulled out his bottle of whiskey or bourbon or

whateveritwasthathedrank.ButtherewasnowayIwasgoingtoletthisturnintowhat
hewanteditto.

Him drinking and dominating me, shutting down his feelings and refusing to let me

knowhowhereallyfelt.

Icrossedtheroomtohimandgrabbedhiswrist.HisheartwasbeatingsofastthatI

could feel his pulse through his dress shirt, leaping and jumping next to his platinum
cufflink. I was surprised that he was having such a physical reaction. As long as I’d
known Noah Cutler, he’d made sure to keep all this emotions completely in check. “I
don’twantyoudrinking.Notnow.”

Helookedatmewithsurprise,likehecouldn’tbelievethatIwoulddaretoorderhim

aroundorcontradictsomethinghewantedtodo.

Helookedrightatmeandtookalongsipofthealcohol.

Ishookmyhead.“Youknow,you’rereallyacting–”AndthenIrealizedsomething.

Somethingwasdifferentfromhowitusuallywaswhenwefirstgothome.

Docket.

Therewasnoclickofhisnailsonthefloor,nolickofhistongueonmyleg,noclang

ofthemetalonhiscollar,noswishofhistail.

“Where’s Docket?” I asked, suddenly panicked. I turned and started for the hall,

callinghisnamefrantically.

“Docketisfine,”Noahsaid.

“Whereishe?”

“He’soutwithhisnewdogwalker.”

“What?”

“Ihiredanewdogwalkerforhim.Moreofahandler,really.Someonewhocantake

careofhim.Shehasacertificationindogtrainingandcamehighlyrecommended.”

“Buthe’sourdog!Iwantustotakecareofhim.”

“Youcannotleavethisapartment,Charlotte.Youknowthat.”

Rageburnedthroughme,eventhoughIknewNoahwasright.There’d already been

thematterofProfessorWorthingtonbeingonloose.Noahhadhiredguards,andImight
havebeenabletotalkmywayoutofthatone,oratleastgottenhimtoallowmetowalk
Docketonceinawhile.ButtherewasnowaythatnowthatIwasasuspectinamurder
investigationthathewasgoingtoletmeout.

And it wouldn’t have looked right, anyway, me out with Docket, going on walks

aroundthecityorplayinginCentralPark.

Even though it wouldn’t do anything for my mental health to be locked inside an

apartment all day, that’s exactly what the public would expect. If I was out and about,
lookinglikeIwashavinganythingclosetoanenjoyabletime,Iwouldbeskeweredinthe
media.

There had already been two reporters standing outside of our building when we’d

gottenhome.Nodoubtthey’dalreadyheardaboutNoahCutler’sfiancébeingaccusedof
murder.Anditwouldonlygetworse.

“Whydidyouevengetadog,Noah,ifyoudon’twanttotakecareofit?”Idemanded.

Hedidn’tanswer,insteadtakinganothersipofhisdrinkcalmly.Itwasinfuriating.

“Fine.”Icrossedmyarmsovermychest.“Youdon’twanttotalkaboutDocket,you

don’twanttotalkabouthowI’mpregnant.”Theword“pregnant”stillfeltforeignonmy
tongue,theseriousnessofitsettlingaroundmelikeaheavyblanket.Iwaspregnant.Iwas
carryingachild.AndI’dbeenaccusedofmurder.Thosewereseriousthings,andifNoah

refusedtotalkaboutit,well…

Hishandtightenedaroundhisdrinkatthewordpregnant.

“Sothisishowyou’vechosentodealwiththesituation?”Iasked.“Bydrinkingand

gettingridofourdog?”Ishookmyhead.“Andrefusingtotalkaboutthefactthatwe’re
goingtohaveachild.”

Hesethisglassdownonthecounterandraisedhiseyestolookatme.“Stop saying

that.”

“What?Thatwe’regoingtohaveachild?Why?It’sthetruth.”Ifheexpectedmeto

haveanabortion,hecouldforgetit.Therewasnoway.Ihadnoproblemwiththeideaof
abortion,alwaysbelievingthatitwasawoman’schoice.I’deventhoughtthatperhapsifit
evercamedowntoit,I’dbeabletomakethatchoiceformyself.

Butnowthattherewasarealbabyinsideofme,therewasnoway.

ItwashalfmeandhalfNoah.

Andthethoughtofthatmademewanthimorher.

Noahstayedsilent.

Hebegantoloosenhistie,andmyheartclenchedwithemotion.

He was just to beautiful, so sexy, so…. My heart beat faster as I took in his strong

hands,hisstrongjaw,thewidthofhischest.Iwantedmorethananythingtobecloseto
him, wanted the raw masculinity that radiated from his every pore to take over my
thoughts, my mind, my body, to obliterate everything else as I gave him my body and
soul.

IlovedhimmorethanIwouldorevercouldloveanyoneelse.

“IthinkIshouldleaveforthenight,”Isaid.

“Don’tberidiculous,Charlotte.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. You’re being impossible.” My eyes filled with tears,

becausemorethananything,Iwantedtobeherewithhim,tobeclosetohim.

Instead,hewasactinglikeacompleteasshole.

“BecauseofDocket?Ifyoucarethatmuch,I’llcallandgethimbackhere.”Hepicked

uphisphonetocallthedogwalker,likehimsummoningourdogbackwasgoingtofix
everything.

“JesusChrist,Noah,youknowthisisn’taboutDocket!Butyes,callherandgethim

backhere,please,becauseI’mtakinghimwithme.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He set his phone and drink down on the counter, his

voicealowwarning.

“I’mnotaprisonerhere,Noah.”

“You.Are.Not.Going.Anywhere.”

Iturnedonmyheelandwalkedtothebedroom,pulledasuitcasefromtheclosetand

setitdownonthebed.Iwasn’tjoking.Thiswasn’taployforhimtocomeandrunafter
me.Itwasn’tatantrum,oranultimatum.AsmuchasIlovedhim,asmuchasIwantedto
bewithhim,ifhewasn’tgoingtoeventalkaboutthefactthatIwaspregnant,well,thenI
wasn’tgoingtostayhere.

He could come and talk to me when he was ready to act like an adult, instead of a

spoiledchild.

IhadnoideawhereIwasgoingtogo.IsupposedIcouldgoandstaywithmymother,

although after what she’d done, talking to that reporter, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at that
possibility.

NottomentionIwouldhavetotakethetrainandIwouldhaveadogwithme.

IwonderedifIcouldfindadog-friendlyUber.

Noahcameintotheroomandshutmysuitcase.

Hetookmywrist.

“No,” I said, wrenching away from him. “Is this worth it to you?” I demanded.

“SendingDocketaway,why?Soyoucanprovethatyou’dbeahorriblefather?Keeping
mehere,why?Soyoucanproveyoucancontroleverything?”

Hisjawsetinastrongline,histemplethrobbing.

“Why,Noah?”Ipressed.

“BecauseI’mnofuckinggoodatthisshit,that’swhy!”

“Whatshit?”

“This.”Hegrabbedmeandpushedmeupagainstthedoor,mybackagainstit.“See?”

he said. “See?” His breathing was coming in short gasps, and I could feel him pushing
againstme,hisbodypinningmetothedoorbehindme.

Hishandswerearoundmywrists,squeezingagainstmypulsepoints.

“You don’t fucking get it, Charlotte. I don’t just want to. I need to.” His hands

squeezed my wrists again and then he let them go. He took a step back, scrubbed at his
facewithhishand.“Andnowyou’re…andIcan’t…”

Iknewwhathewassaying.

Heneededtobeabletodominateme.

Topunishme,touseme,tospankme.

And now on top of all his qualms about being a father, he couldn’t take out his

emotionsonmesexuallythewayheneededto.

“Youdon’thaveto,”Itried,butevenasIsaidthewords,Iwasn’tsureifIbelieved

them.

Heturnedfrommeandwalkedtothebed,satdownandputhisheadinhishands.

Iswallowed.“Look,I’mscared,too.I’vebarelyevenheldababy.”

Heshookhishead.“Youdon’tunderstand,Charlotte.”

IwantedtosaythatIdidunderstand,butwhenhelookedup,thelookonhisfacestole

mybreathaway.

He’dneverlookedatmelikethatbefore,sovulnerable,hisfacefilledwithemotion.

“Ican’t…Iwon’tbeanygoodforababy.AndwhatIneedtodotoyou…Ican’tdo

thatifyou’re…”

ForthefirsttimesinceI’dknownhim,NoahCutlerwasatalossforwords.

Icrossedtheroomandkneeledinfrontofhim,tookhishandsinmine.

“Let’sjusttry,”Isaid.“Wecanjusttrytobenormal.”Ibroughthishandstomylips

andkissedthemsoftly.“Wecandootherthings.“

Hereacheddownandpulledmetohim,untilIwasonhislap,straddlinghim.

“No.”Heshookhishead.“No.”

“It will be okay,” I said, placing his hands on my backside. “Maybe we can ask the

doctorifit’s…”

This seemed to anger him, and he reached up and pulled me off him slowly, set me

down on the bed and walked away, back to the other side of the room by the door. I
thoughthewasgoingtoleave,butinstead,heleanedagainstthecloseddoor,pressinghis
foreheadagainsttheheavywood.

“Fine,”Isaid,standingup.“I’mwillingtotry,butifyou’renot,thenthere’snoneed

formetobehereanylonger.”

“Whereareyougoingtogo?”hedemanded,turningtome.“Toyourmother’shouse?

Doyouunderstandhowdangerousthatis,Charlotte?ColinWorthingtonisontheloose.
Nottomentionyourmother’shousewillbecrawlingwithreporters.”Iknewhewasright.
Mymotherhadalreadycalledmefifteentimes.Allthecallshadeitherbeenmissedwhile
Iwassittinginajailcellorhadbeensenttovoicemail,becauseIjustcouldn’tdealwith
her.

“That’snotyourconcern,”Isaid.

“Thefuckit’snot,Charlotte.You’recarryingmychild.”

He’dturnedaroundnow,andtruetoform,therewasnotraceofsoftnessonhisface.

Nowhewasallroughandragged,nosignofthemanIknewhecouldbe.

“Achildyoudon’tevenwant.”

“Isthatwhatyouthink?ThatIdon’twanthimorher?”

“Ofcourse!”Iwasintheclosetnow,lookingforshoesthatIcouldwearoutofhere.I

shoved my feet into a pair of running shoes, but they didn’t fit. Was it possible that my
feetwereswellingalready?Sofarthispregnancythingwasnotimpressingme.

“Thatcouldn’tbefartherfromthetruth,”Noahsaidfromthedoorwaytothecloset.

“Thenwhyareyouactinglikethis?”

“BecauseI’mfuckingterrified,that’swhy!”

“AndItoldyou,I’mscaredtoo!”

“WhatifIhurthim?WhatifIbeathim?”

“Whywouldyoudothat?”

“Becauseit’swhatIwanttodotoyou!”Hisvoicebroke,thepainlikeajaggededge

of a knife. I dropped the shoes and went to him, wrapped my arms around him. He
struggledagainstme,tryingtopushmeaway,butIwasn’tgoingtolethim,notthistime.

HewasmuchbiggerthanIwas,muststronger,eventhoughIwasn’tasmallorweak

womanphysically.

Anyothertimehewouldhavebeenabletoeasilymovemeawayfromhim.

ButIknewhewouldn’tberoughwithme,notwhenIwaspregnant.

Sureenough,hetriedtopushmeawaygently.Butitwasn’tenough.

“Shhh,”Isaid.“Shhh.”Iwastalkingintohischest,tryingtocalmhim,tosettlehim.

Finally,hewentstill.

Iranmyhandsuphisback,feelingthetautmusclesthere,hisbodyatestamenttothe

self-control and discipline he exercised over all things. I kneaded his upper shoulders,
tryingtoloosenhim,butNoahkepthisarmsbyhisside,notholdingme,notmoving.

“Please,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. “Please.” I closed my eyes, and I

couldfeelmyheartbeatingagainsthis.Ipressedmyeartohischest,desperatetofeelhis
heartbeatevenstrongerthanIalreadycould,asifitwasproofthathewashuman.

AndthenIrealizedI’dmadeamistake,tellinghimthatwedidn’thavetodothethings

thathewantedtodo.

Thosethingswereinsideofhim.

I’dknownthatfromthemomentI’dgotteninvolvedwithhim.

Thesethingshewantedtodotome,thewayheneededtodominateme…thereasons

forthatcutdeep,muchdeeperthansomethingthatcouldbesolvedbyjusttellinghimto
try.

IneverwantedtomakehimfeelthatIlovedhimdespiteofthethingsheneededtodo

tome.

Becausethetruthwas,asfuckedupandwrongasitwas,Ilovedhimbecauseofthose

things.

Ilovedeverythingabouthim,andifIwantedhimtoletmein,Ihadtolethimknow

that everything about him was okay, that nothing about him was disgusting or wrong or
somethingIcouldn’thandle.

I wanted to give him everything he needed. I wanted to let him know I trusted him,

thatnothingabouthimscaredme.

SoIgottomyknees.

“Charlotte,”hesaidwarningly.

“Please,”Isaid.“Wecanstill…”Itrailedoff,notexactlysurewhatIwassupposedto

say.Wecouldstilldowhat?Berough?Lethimdominateme?

“No.”Hetookastepback.“Charlotte,wecan’t.”

“Why?I’mstillme.We’restillus.”

Ibegantocrawltohim,lookingupathim,myeyeswide,lettinghimknowthatIwas

readyandwillingforhisinstructions.

WhenIreachedhim,Isatbackonmykneesandreachedup,touchingtheoutsideof

hispants.Hiscockwashard,asIknewitwouldbe.Hecouldprotestallhewanted,butit
wastruewhenhesaidheneededthis.

AndIneededittoo.

Iunzippedhispantsslowly,reachingmyhandinandpullingouthiscock.Itwasstiff

andthick,andIwrappedmyhandaroundthevelvetyhardness,squeezinggently.

Hereacheddownandgrabbedmyhand,stoppingme.

“Youdonotgettodecidethis,”hegrowled.

“Thenshowme,”Isaid,swallowing.“Showmehowtopleaseyou.”

Mypussypulsedatthewords,andIfeltmypantiesgetdamp.

“Jesus,Charlotte.”Hesoundedangry,buttheendofhiswordswereastrangledmoan,

anothersignthathewantedthis.

Hetookmyhandandbegantomoveitupanddownhiscockslowly.

“Yes,baby,”hesaid.“Justlikethat.”

Hewaslookingdownatme,andoureyeslockedoneachother.

“Likethis,sir?”

“Yes,baby.”

He continued moving my hand up and down, slowly, his breathing becoming more

laboredundermytouch.

Itwasincrediblyerotic,holdinghisharddickinmyhand,andImovedmyeyesfrom

hisandlookedatthewayhewasguidingme.Itwasalmostlikehewasteachingmehow
topleasehimalloveragain,likeweweregoingtohavetonavigatethisnewworld,ofme
carrying his child, figuring out how to make sure both of us got what we wanted and
needed.

Hisotherhandreacheddownandtookthebackofmyhead,hisfingerstanglingwith

myhair,twistinggently.

Hebegantoguidemymouthtowardhiscock,usingthehandthatwaswrappedaround

mineonhisshafttopointitatmylips.

“Keepyourmouthclosed,”hecommanded.

He took the head of his cock and slid it across the seam of my lips. I tasted the

saltinessofhisprecum,thewarmthofitcausingthepulsinginmypussytointensify.

“You like that, angel?” he demanded. He’d never called me angel before, and

somethingaboutitfeltintimate,likeIwassuddenlyinnocentagain,likeIwassomething
sopureheneededtobeextremelycarefulwithme.

“Yes,sir.”

AsIfinishedtalking,hepushedjustthesmallestbitofhiscockintomymouth.The

underside slid against my tongue, and the fact that he’d done it without warning, after
instructingmetokeepmymouthclosed,feltlikeaviolation.

Igaspedattheintrusion,atthemassivenessofhiscock,whichI’dstillnevergotten

usedto.

“Shhh,”hesaid.“Shhh.”The muscles of his taut forearm tensed under the rolled up

sleevesofhisdressshirtashepushedhiscockfurtherintome.

Iquieted.

“Fuck,Charlotte,”hegroaned.“Youlooksohotwithmycockinyourmouth.”

He pushed all the way back into my throat in one thrust, then pulled out quickly,

before I could choke. I whimpered, and licked my lips, but he held my head just out of
reachofhim.

“Please,”Iwhispered.

“Pleasewhat?”heasked,soundedslightlyamused.

“Pleaseletmesuckyou.”

Myhandwasstillstrokinghim,asheguidedmeupanddown,slowingthepacethen

bringingitbackup.Mynippleswerehardwithdesire,pokingthroughmybra,andIwas
suretheywerevisiblethroughmyshirt.

Irealizedthathewasteasingmejustasmuchashehadbefore.

He’dtrainedmybodyandmymindtowantthis,andnowhewasholdingmehostage

tomyowndesires.

“Youthinkyoucangetmeoffwithyourmouth?”hesaid.

“Yes,sir.”

“Yes,what?”

“Yes,Icangetyouoffwithmymouth.”

“Justsucking,”hesaid,reachingdownandtiltingmychinupsothatIwasgazingup

athim.Hiseyesstormedwithdesire,thelookonhisfaceoneofpurelust.“Nohands.No
deep throating.” His thumb grazed my lower lip, and I felt the precum that was there
slidingoverthelengthofmylips.

Hiscockbrushedagainstmycheek,andImoaned.

“Goodgirl,”hegrowled.

Heletmyhandgo,andguidedhisdicktomymouth.

Iwrappedmylipsaroundhiscock,takinghimintomymouth.Myhandimmediately

wenttohisshaft–itwasaninstinct.Ilovedfeelinghishardnessinmyhand,lovedfeeling
his cock harden in my mouth, loved getting him slick with the precum and saliva that
mixedtogethertobecometheperfectlubrication,thatIwouldthenusetostrokehimoff
whileIsuckedhimintomymouth.

“No,angel,”hesaid,grabbingmywristandpullingmyhandfromhiscock.Hepulled

hiscockfrommymouthtoo,andIgazedupathim,ashamedtoseethedisapprovalonhis
face.“Iseeyou’renotgoingtolisten.”

Heslappedhiscockagainstmycheek,andImoaned.

Hepulledoffhisbelt,thentookmyhandsandplacedmywriststogether,cinchingthe

leatheruntilmyhandswereboundinfrontofme.

Hisbreathhitchedashelookeddownatme,andIknewhelovedseeingmelikethis.

EventhoughIwasstillfullyclothed,Iwasbound,mymouthhistouseashepleased.

Evenworse,hecouldseemynipplesthroughthefabricofmysweater,couldfeelthe

wetheatofmymouthandtongue,couldtellthatIwantedthisjustasmuchashedid.

OnceIwasbound,heplacedhishandonthebackofmyheadandguidedmebackto

hispenis.

My mouth opened and took his shaft. He slid against my tongue, hot and salty and

velvetyandgood.

He held the back of my head, but unlike in the past when I’d blown him like this,

downonmykneeswithhishandonthebackofmyhead,hedidn’tpushallthewayinto
me,didn’tfuckmymouth.

Instead,heheldmesteady,notlettingmetakemorethanhalfofhimintomythroat.

Whathe’dtoldmetodowasexactlywhathewasgoingtomakemedonow.Hewas

goingtomakemegethimoffwithmymouth.

“Good girl,” he breathed as I popped off his cock with an audible sound and then

begantolickhisshaft.Therewasalongveinontheundersideofhiscock,andIslidthe
flatofmytonguealongit.

“Jesus,”Noahbreathed.Thepartofhistorsothatwasvisible,thepartrightabovethe

line of hair that started at his belly button and slid down to his cock – twitched, the
musclestightandchiseled.

The movement of his muscular body, so hard and hot he could have been a statue,

floodedmewithdesire.

Theurgetoreachupandfeelhismuscles,torunmyhandsunderhisshirtandoverthe

dipsandlinesofhissix-pack,wasalmostunbearable.

I moaned in frustration, my hands pulling against the restraints that kept me from

beingabletodowhatIwanted.

Noahnoticed,andhegrinned.

“Suckme,angel,”hesaid.“Showmehowyoucangetmeoffwithjustyourmouth.”

I wanted to please him so badly, and my mouth went back to the head of his cock,

takingitintomymouth,suckingandslidingmytonguearoundthevelvetyhardness.

Ifellintoarhythm,suckingandswirling,thetasteofprecumbecomingmoreintense

witheverymovement.

“Goodgirl,”Noahmoaned.“Goodgirl,suckmycock,baby,yes,justlikethat.”

Ikeptgoing,lovingthewayhetastedandthesoundshewasmaking.

Ibegantopullhimoutofmymouthjustalittlebitwitheverysuck,pressingmylips

together and forcing myself back down on his cock. I bobbed up and down like that,
knowinghewasgettingclosetocomingbythewayhisbreathingwasacceleratingandthe
wayhishandstangledinmyhair,grabbingthestrandstightly.

“Yes, keep going,” he groaned and then he grabbed me and pushed me down on his

dick,finallyfillingmymouththewayIneededhimto,shovinghiswholecockdownmy
throatashebegantocome.

IswallowedasfastasIcould,takingdownthefirstspurtandthenimmediatelyhaving

totakethesecondashiscockpulsed.Heunloadedintome,shotaftershotofcumhitting
thebackofmythroat,hotandsalty.

Whenhe’dstilled,heleaneddownandpickedmeup,slidinghisarmsundermyknees

andcarryingmegentlytothebed.

Helaidmedownandgazedatmybody.

“Iwanttoseeyou,”Iwhispered.“Please…”Itrailedoff,knowingthatsometimesifI

pleadedandbegged,hewouldtaketheopportunitytopunishme.“Iwanttotouchyou.”

He hesitated, and then released my wrists from his belt and allowed me to reach up

andunbuttonhisshirt,toslideifoffhisshouldersandletmyhandsdriftdownhischest
andoverhistorso.IshiveredasIfeltthehardmusclesthere,andIclosedmyeyes,letting
thefeelingofdesirewashoverme,blottingouttherestoftheday.

Asecondlater,he’dtakenmywristsandpushedmegentlybackdownontothebed.

He pulled off my sweater and I squirmed in my bra, trying to rise up from the bed,

desperatetofeelhischestagainstmine,tofeelhishardpecsagainstmynipples.

Butheguidedmebackdownagain.

Hisbeltwasstillinhishandsandhepulledmyarmsupovermyheadandboundme

totheheadboard.

Isquirmedagain,andthemovementcausedthecupsofmybratoshift,exposingthe

topsofmyareolas.

Noahreacheddownandbrushedhisfingertipsoverthesensitiveskin,thengotontop

ofme,straddlingmearoundthehips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, and I arched up into him as he leaned down and

kissedmehardonthemouth,histonguetanglingwithmine.

Whenhepulledback,hepressedhislipstomyneck,thensliddownovermycleavage

anddownmystomach.

Imoanedashisbreathskatedovermyskin,warmingme.

TheheatbetweenmylegspooledasIarchedagain,desperateforhim.

He unbuttoned my pants slowly, separating the fabric from my skin with agonizing

deliberateness.Hepulledthemoffandthrewthemontothefloor,gazingdownatmeashe
ranhishandsdownmysides.

Hekissedmythighs,thestubbleonhischeeksbrushingagainstmyskinandIpushed

intohim,wantingitharder,faster.

Buthecontrolledthepaceasheblewagainstmydamppanties.

The warmth of his breath on my most sensitive place, even though it was covered,

mademeshiverandtwistonthebed,theleatherofthebeltchafingmywrists.

“You’vebeensuchagoodgirl,baby,”hebreathed.

Hisvoicewasgruffandsexy,andmybodyburstintoflamesunderneathhim.

Histhumbshookedthesidesofmythong,andIarchedagain,desperateandhungryto

feelhismouthonme.

“Youmademecomelikesuchagoodgirl,”hecontinuedashishandspressedagainst

my hips, pinning me down to the bed. His voice was controlled, his movements still
deliberate,acontrasttomyownmovementsandthefranticfeelingbuildinginsideofme.

“SonowI’mgoingtoputmymouthonyourpussy.Wouldyoulikethat?”

“Yes.”Iwrithedonthebedasheloweredhismouthtothespotrightbelowmynavel,

kissingmesoftlyashebegantotugonmypanties,slowlypullingthemdownmythighs.

Hestoppedwhentheywerehalfwaydownmymound.

“You’resowet,”hesaid.“Icanseeitonyourpanties.”Ilookeddownathim,poised

between my legs. He blew between my legs some more, and I thought for sure he was
goingtorubmethere,toprovetomethatheknewhowwetIwas,buthewasinfull-on
torturemodenow,findingawaytoteaseme,tokeepmewantingandsubmissivetohim,
evenifhecouldn’tbeasroughashewantedtobewithmephysically.

Thenhepulledmypantiestothesideandputhismouthonme,lickingmewiththe

flatofhistongue.

Imoanedandarchedashebegantoeatmeout,open-mouthkissingmypussy,licking

myclitsoftlybeforeslidinghistongueinandoutofme.Hewasamasterwithhismouth,
guidingmetotheedgeoforgasmbeforepullingbackandslowingthepace.

Then,finally,hepulledhispantsoffandunlockedmywrists,thenpulledmeupand

towardhim,hisnakedbodypressedagainstmine.

He finished removing my bra and took my breasts in his hands, squeezing them

togetherandpullingmynippleintohismouth,suckingsoftlybeforemovingtotheother
one.

He released them and kissed me, pulling me toward him, my legs parting and

encirclinghiswaist.

Iknewthiswasdifficultforhim,thetwoofussittingup,mewrappedaroundhim.He

didn’tlikefeelinglikehewasanythingbuttotallyincontrol,andIknewhewasdoingthis
forme,knewitwasawaytoshowmethathewastryingasmuchashecouldtoletgo.

Imoanedashishandtangledinmyhair,andIwrappedmyarmsaroundhim,feeling

themusclesinhisback,thesmoothskinstretchedthere,thetautnessandbroadnessofhis
shoulders.

Hewassobeautifulthatitmademewanttocry.

“Youaresobeautiful,”hewhisperedagainstmymouth.“Youaremyworld,Charlotte.

Iloveeverythingaboutyou.”Hiswordscausedtheemotiontobubbleoverinsideofme,
andIfeltacryescapemylips.

Heranhishandsdownmysides.

“Iloveyourbody.Youarethesexiest,mostbeautifulthingI’veeverseen.”

“Iloveyou,”Iwhisperedastheheadofhiscockpressedagainstmyopening.Hewas

rockhard,eventhoughhe’dhadanorgasmonlyafewminutesago.

Hepressedintomyslowly,thewholetimelookingatmewithsuchtendernessthatI

almostcouldn’ttakeit.

Iclosedmyeyes,buthecuppedmychinandpulledmylipstohis.

“No,”hewhispered.“Don’tcloseyoureyes.”

I forced them open as his hands found my stomach, and he rubbed protectively. Our

baby.Weweregoingtohaveababy.

Andinthatmoment,asNoahenteredmefully,thatwasallthatmattered.

Everything else fell away, piece by piece, as if it were a carefully constructed tower

fallingdownaroundus,leavingnothingbutthetwoofus.

ProfessorWorthington.

Gone.

JasonCartwright’smurder.

Gone.

Allofitmeantnothing.

Allofitwasnothing,becausetherewasnothingthatcouldtouchmeaslongasIhad

Noah.

Andnow,ourbaby.

He held his hand against my stomach gently, his thumb brushing over my clit as he

rockedhiships,pushinginsideofme,untilwebothcametogether,cryingout.

fter,weorderedChinesefoodandateitinbed.I’dpulledononeofNoah’soldlawschool
t-shirts, one that was so big it hung down to my knees. He’d pulled on a pair of loose

blackpajamapantsthathunglowonhiships,andstayedshirtless.Itwashardnot
tostareattheperfectionthatwashisbody,attheflexofhiscutbiceps,atthesoft
lineofhairthatstartedathisnavelanddisappearedintothedipofhispants.

Everything about him was sex personified, and it was so intense, it permeated

everything,blottingouteverythingelse.IwonderedifIwouldevergetusedtoit.

“ThisisaverynonNoah-Cutlerthingtodo,”Isaid,lookingatthemakeshiftpicnic

we’dspreadoutinfrontofusonthebed.Takeoutcontainerswerestrewnabout,eachone
filledwithsomethingdifferent.

“Whatis?”

“Eating in bed.” The sheets in this room were always immaculately pressed, stark

white, cleaned and replaced by someone I never saw, a maid or housekeeper who came
when I wasn’t around. Even Docket seemed to somehow know how perfect the sheets
weresupposedtobe,andhetendedtomakesurehesleptonlyontopofthecomforter.

“Oh,is it?” Noahreached down andpicked up a pieceof sushi, heldit over the bed

andpretendedhewasgoingtodropit.

“Stopit!”Isaid.“You’regoingtogetthesheetsdirty.”

“Oh,nowyou’reworriedaboutmesses?Nowwho’stheonebeingclean?”

“Please,”Isaid,rollingmyeyesasIpickedapieceofchickenoutofthecontainerof

chicken lo mein. I popped it into my mouth then set the container back down on the
nightstand.“You’regoingtohavetogetusedmessesaroundherewhenthebabycomes.”

“Charlotte–”

“No.” I shook my head. “No more shutting down, Noah. I get it. You’re afraid that

you’regoingtobeshitdadbecauseyouhadashitdad.Butthat’snottrue.You’regoingto
beagreatdad.I’mscared,too.It’snormaltobescared.”

“Youdon’tknowI’mgoingtobeagreatdad.”

“Yes,”Isaid.“Ido.”AndIdid.Iknewdeepinmyheartthathewould.Hewouldbe

kindandgiving,ifhecouldjustallowhimselftobe.“Maybeweneedtoseeatherapist,”I
said.“Someonewhocanhelpustoworkthroughthesethings.”

Hescoffed.“Idon’tneedatherapisttotellmeI’mfuckedup,Charlotte.”

“That’snotwhatatherapistdoes,Noah.Theydon’tjustsitthereandtellyouyou’re

fucked up. They help you to figure out why you’re fucked up, and they help you work
throughyourissues.”

“Therapyispointless.”

“It’snotpointless,”Isaid,eventhoughIwasn’tsureaboutitmyself.“Andbesides,at

leastit’ssomething.”

He sighed and scrubbed at his face. “Will that make you feel better? If I go to

therapy?”

“No, what will make me feel better is if you want to go to therapy, or at least do

something.” I swallowed. “Just because your dad wasn’t….” I started to say ‘wasn’t a
good dad’ but I knew that was a gross understatement. So I stopped and started over. I
wasn’tgoingtoskirtaroundissuesanymore,wasn’tgoingtobesoafraidofpushinghim.
Ifweweregoingtohaveachildtogether,thenweweregoingtohavetotalkaboutthings.
“Justbecauseyourdadwasamonsterdoesn’tmeanyouare.”

Hedidn’tsayanything,andsoIreachedoutandwrappedmyhandaroundhis.

“Whataboutyourmother?”Iaskedgently.“Youmentionedherbefore.Yousaidshe

wasgoingtocomevisit,andthenIneverheardanythingelseaboutit.”

“That’saverycomplicatedrelationship.”

“Inwhatsense?”

Heraisedhiseyebrowsatme.Iknewhishistorywithhismother.Howhisfatherhad

beathimthatnight,howhismotherandhisbrother,Audi,hadtakenhisfather’sside,had
toldthepolicethatNoahhadbeentheaggressoreventhoughitwasn’ttrue.

“Iknowthebackstory,”Isaidcarefully.“Butyoustilltalktoher.Haveyouguysever

discussedwhathappenedwhenyouwereyounger?”

“Whatistheretodiscuss?”

Igapedathim.“Thefactthatshebasically-”

Wewerecutoffbythesoundofhiscellringing,andNoahreachedoverandgrabbedit

offthenightstand.

“Cutler,”hebarkedintothephone,hisnormalgreeting.Iwatchedastheexpressionon

his face went from annoyed, to interested, back to annoyed. “How did you get this
number?” His eyebrows knit together and his jaw twitched in anger. “Yes, well, if Penn
wantsameeting,hecancallmyofficeinthemorningandsetoneupwithmyassistant.”

Mymouthwentdry.

Foramoment,therealizationthatI’dbeenarrestedformurderhadleftmymind.But

nowitcamerushingback.

“Is that Penn Dylan’s office?” I asked, even though it obviously was. “Why does he

wantameeting?”Myheartpoundedinmychest.Whywouldtheprosecutorbecallingfor
ameeting?Didhewanttooffermeapleadealalready?Obviously,Iwouldn’ttakeit.But
IwasstillanxiousforNoahtotakethemeeting.Itwouldbethefirstchancewe’dhaveto
knowwhatPennDylanwasthinking,togetareadonhisstrategy.

ItuggedonNoah’ssleeve.“Takethemeeting,”Iwhispered.

He got up and disentangled himself from me. “Yes, well, my schedule is extremely

busytomorrow.IfPennwouldliketomeetmeforbreakfast,Icanmeethimat6am.Iwill
havemyassistantsendthedetails,andyoucanpassitalongtohim.”Noahhungupand
immediatelybegantextinghisassistanttheinformation.

“Sothere’sameetingtomorrow?”Iasked.

“WhenI’monthephonelikethat,Charlotte,youarenottointerruptme.”

“Sorry,”Isaid.“ButIthoughtthatyouweregoingtorefusetoseehim.”

“Iwasn’tgoingtorefusetoseehim.”

“Sothenwhydidyou—oh.”Igotit.Noahwastryingtoshowthathewasn’tgoingto

just be ordered around, that Penn Dylan wasn’t going to be able to just call the shots,
requestingmeetingsonshortnoticeandexpectingNoahtocomerunning.

“Youneedtotrustme.”

“Yes,sir,”Isaid.Isaiditflippantly,moreasajoke,buthiseyeslitashetookinmy

bodydressedinjusthist-shirt.

Hestoodup,thenslidhishandsundermyknees,pickedmeuplikeIwasabridehe

wascarryingoverthethreshold.

IclosedmyeyesasIwrappedmyarmsaroundhisshoulders.Ourweddingwouldbe

onhold,Iwassure.TherewasnowayIcouldgetmarriedwhileIwasaccusedofmurder.

Hecarriedmetothebathroom,turnedontheshowerandasthesteamrolledaround

us,hepulledoffmyshirt.I shivered under his gaze, even though he’d seen me naked a
milliontimesatthispoint.

Butsomethingaboutbeingsoexposedtohimalwaysmademeslightlyself-conscious,

likehewouldsomehowcometohissensesanddecidethathecouldn’tfigureoutwhathe
wasdoingwithme.

“God,youaresobeautiful,”hesaid,takingmyhipsandgentlypullingmetowardhim.

Ifelthimhardagainstmeashekissedme,histonguetanglingwithmine.

Hepulledoffhispantsandweclimbedintotheshower.

HeturnedmearoundandspankedmesoftlyontheassasIpressedmycheekagainst

thetile.

“Isthisokay?”hewhisperedinmyear.

“Yes.”

Heangledmebacktowardhimandenteredmefrombehind,andhiscockgrewharder

insideofmeasmypussyclenchedhimlikeafist.Iraisedmyfacetothewarmwaterasit
beatagainstmyskin,washingawaytheday.

NoahpulledmebackuntilIwasflushagainsthim.

“Ababy,”hesaid,soundbreathless.Hishandfannedaroundmyabdomen.

“Yes.Ababy.”

He pulled me back harder until he was all the way inside of me, filling me, and I

gaspedatthesensation,andthedifferentanglehehadonmefromusstandingup.

“Lookatme,”hesaidgruffly.

Iturnedmyhead,andthelookinhiseyesstolethebreathfrommylungs.

“I’mgoingtokeepyousafe,”hesaid.“Doyouunderstandme?”

“Yes.”Iknewhewastalkingaboutthemurderinvestigation.

“AndI’mgoingtokeepthebabysafe.”

“Iknow,”Isaid,myeyesfillingwithtears.“Iknowyouwill.”

“Iloveyou,”hesaid,andherockedinsideofme,sayingitoverandoveragain,until

finallywewerebothsated.

alfanhourlater,Iwasinbed,myhairwet,myiPadinmyhand.Itwasstillearly–
only seven o’clock, but the day had taken it out of me. I wasn’t sure if it was a

copingmechanismornot,butIwantedtomakesurethatItriedtofocusonwhatmylife
wouldbelikeafterthisnightmarewasover.

Andthatmeantlookingatlawschools,sothatIhadsomethingtofocuson,aplanto

be excited about. I wasn’t sure how law school would be possible with a baby, but I at
leastneededtolookintoit.

IfIletmyselfbecomeparalyzed,mymindwouldgocrazy.

IneededtomakesurethatIkeptmoving.

Ithadbeenthesamewayaftermydaddied.

Iwouldsometimesgetthiswaveofdepressionorsadness,anditfeltlikeevengetting

through the day was totally impossible. Even just the most mundane things seemed
unbearablydifficult.

ThedayswhereIwouldgiveintothat,andstayinbed,orendupsittinglikeazombie

infrontoftheTV,madeitjustworse.

“I like seeing you in my bed,” Noah said, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he came

intotheroom.

“Ilikebeinginyourbed,”Isaid.

“Ourbed,”hecorrectedhimself.

Heleanedoverandkissedmeonthelips,softlyatfirst,andthenhistonguepartedthe

seam,tanglingwithmine.

“You cannot be serious,” I said, pulling back. “We’ve already had sex three times

today.”

“Ican’thelpit,”hesaidgruffly.“You’rejustsosexy.”

Noah’sphonerang.

“Yes?”hesaidasheanswered,hishandrubbingmycalf.“Yes,thedogwalker.She’s

backwithDocket?Thankyou.Myfiancéwillbeextremelyhappytohearthat.”

Irolledmyeyes.

“I’llberightthere.”Hehungupthephoneandbroughtmyhandtohislips,kissingmy

knuckles.“ThedogwalkerisbackwithDocket.”

“Iwanttomeether,”Isaid,standingup.

“Soyou’reagreeingtokeepher?”

“Justuntilthisisover,”Isaid.Ipulledonapairofyogapantsandabra.AsmuchasI

didn’tliketheideaofDocketbeinginthecareofastranger,justbecauseweweregoingto
bedistracteddidn’tmeanthatheshouldsuffer.

IfollowedNoahdownthehall,wrappingmystill-damphairupintoalooseponytail.

Noahopenedthefrontdoor,andDocketcameracingin,hisnailsclickingagainstthe

hardwoodfloor.

Hegaveahappylittlebarkashetumbledintothehouse.Andthenhedidsomething

he’dneverdonebefore.Hesatdownonthewoodenfloorandwaitedtogetapet.

“Wow,”Isaid,scratchinghimbehindtheears.“He’salreadylearnedanewtrick.”

“Weworkedonsittingforpetsinsteadofjumping,”afemalevoicesaid.

Ilookeduptoseeaprettygirlofaboutmyage,standinginthehallway.Shehadblond

hair and side swept bangs. A tiny nose ring glittered in her nose, and she was wearing
jeansandapurpleandgraystripedpulloversweater.

“Hi,”shesaid,givingmeabigsmile.“YoumustbeCharlotte.I’mIvy.”

Ireachedoutandtookherhand.Itwascoldandsmall,buteverythingelseabouther

feltwarm.

“Thanksfortakinghimforawalk,”Isaid.

“Noproblem,”shesaid.SheglancedoveratNoahnervously.NotthatIcouldblame

her – he was extremely intimidating. Even at home, dressed in just a pair of sweatpants
andat-shirt,hewasintimidating.Heradiatedpowerandmasculinity,nottomentionthe
expanseofhisapartment,whichwasinsanelydecorated,andscreamedofmoney.

“Um,Iwant…Imean,Iknowthatyouprobablyaren’tthrilledtohavesomeoneelse

takingcareofDocket,butIwantyoutoknowthatI’mnotgoingtosteponanytoes.”She
glanced again at Noah, and I saw him sigh. He must have told her that I might be a
problem.

“Oh,really?”Isaid.“Andwherewouldyougetthatidea?”

Shelookeduncomfortable,andIinstantlyfeltbad.

“I’msorry,”shesaid.“Ijust…Imean,noonetoldmethat,it’sjustthatIknowhowit

iswhenyouhaveadogthatyoulove,and–”

“Itoldherthat,Charlotte,”Noahsaid,neveronetomincewordsorwastetime.

“Really?”IfeignedshockasDocketpushedhissnoutundermyhanduntilIrubbedhis

head.

“Yes,really.”

“It’sfine,”Isaid.“I’msurethatDocketwillbeveryhappyandsafeinyourcare.”

“He will be!” Ivy said. “I promise. Anything I can do to make you feel more

comfortable,pleaseletmeknow.”Herphonewentoffthen,andshelookeddownatthe
textthatpoppeduponherscreen.Assheraisedherphonetolookatit,Isawthatthetext

wasallincaps.

Andtheykeptcoming.

Oneafteranother.

Afteranother.

Iwastoofarawaytoseewhattheysaid,anditwasn’tlikeIwassnooping–theywere

impossiblenottonotice.

I watched as Ivy’s eyes opened wide and she quickly typed out a response on her

phone.“I’msorry,”shesaid.“Oneofmyclientsishavingadogemergency.Ihavetogo.”
Hervoicewasascheerfulasever,butherfacehadtotallychanged.Shelooked…nervous,
anxious,maybeevenscared?Butthatwasridiculous.Whywouldshebescaredofoneof
herclients?

ShegaveDocketapatonthehead,saidhergoodbyes,andleft.

“Okay?”Noahsaid.

“Okay.”Inodded.

WewerewalkingbacktothebedroomwhenNoahgotyetanotherphonecall,thisone

fromhisownassistant.Ididn’tbothertoaskwhattheassistant’snamewasorwhereshe
orhehadcomefromafterhe’dfiredthelastone.EversinceI’dknownhim,Noahhada
parade of different assistants, seemingly plucked from nowhere, appearing and
disappearingwithoutfanfare.

“It’s like Grand Central Station here tonight,” I quipped as Docket jumped onto the

bedandcurledupatthebottom,sighingincontentment.

“Yes,” Noah barked into the phone. “Yes. Okay. Yes… and the other appointment?

Yes.Thankyou.”

Heendedthecallandlookedatme.“It’stimeforyoutogotobed.”

“It’sonlyseventhirty.”

“Penn Dylan has agreed to meet me tomorrow for breakfast. Six am. And he’s

requestedyoubethere,too.”

“Me?”IfrozeasNoahpulleddownthecoversformeandmotionedmeintothebed.I

gotinandhehookedhisfingersunderthesidesofmyyogapantsandIsquirmedoutof
them.“Why?”

Usuallytheclientsdidn’tgothemeetingslikethis.

“Becausehe’sobviouslyuptosomething,”Noahsaid.

“Likewhat?”

“I don’t know.” Noah smoothed my hair back and kissed me softly on the forehead.

“But I’m going to find out.” And then he noticed the look on my face. “Hey,” he said.
“Don’tbescared.”

“OfcourseI’mgoingtobescared,Noah.”

Henodded,acceptingthis,butIcouldseethepainitcausedhim.Heneverwantedme

tobeanythingbuthappy,evenforasecond.“I’mgoingtokeepyousafe,remember?”

“Yes.”

“Doyoutrustme?”

“Yes.Itrustyou.”

He kissed me again, then clicked the light off and disappeared down the hall toward

hisoffice.

ewokemeagaininthemiddleofthenight,wrappingmeinhisarmsandpullingme
close.

“Wereyousleeping?”hemurmuredagainstmyneck.

“Sortof.”Icuddledbackagainsthimenjoyingthewarmthandsolidnessofhisbody.

“Ineedtogorunning.”

“I’llstayhere.”

“No.”Heshookhishead.“You’llcomewithme.”

IknewtherewasnowayIwasgoingtowinthatargument.Hewouldn’tleavemein

theapartment,Ialreadyknewthat.Notalone.Therewasnoway.Ididn’tmindmuch.I’d
beenwakingupeveryhalfhour,anyway.

Sowegotupinthesoftdarknessoftheapartment.Docketlookedatussleepilybefore

slidingupthebedandcurlingupontoNoah’spillow.

Forsomereason,hepreferredsleepingonNoah’ssideofthebed.

IpulledasweatshirtonandtheyogapantsI’dtakenoffearlier,thenfollowedNoah

downtothestreet.

Thecarwaswaitinglikeithadbeenbefore.

Thestreetsweresilent,oratleastwhatpassedforsilentinNewYork.The reporters

whohadbeenoutsidehadgone,atleastfornow.ButIknewthatitwasonlyamatterof
timebeforetheycameback,andtherewouldprobablybeevenmoreofthemnexttime.

Isettledintothebackofthelimo,withafaceless,namelessmaninthefrontofthecar.

NoahmadesureIwassettledinside,handedmemyiPad.Therewasablanketanda

pillowontheseat.

“Ineedtohaveyounearmealways,”hewhisperedagainstmylips.“Ifyoucansleep,

sleep.”Hestoodupandwasabouttoclosethedoortothecar,beforeheleanedbackdown
and looked at me. “I’ve been thinking about your case tonight, going over everything
beforeourmeetinginthemorning.”

“And?”

“AndI’mreconsideringwhatIsaidabouthowyoushouldputyourlifeonhold.”He

lookedatme.“Youarebrilliant.Andbeautiful.Andperfect.Andyoushouldnotbeforced

toputyourlifeonholdforthisbullshit.”Helookedangryattheend,anddetermined.“So
lookintolawschools.”

“Okay.” I nodded. It was an unconventional approach. I knew that. But Noah was

right.Iwasn’tgoingtobeoutandaboutpartying.Iwasgoingtobeoutandaboutliving
mylife.

Goingtoschool.

Walkingmydog.

Decoratinganursery.

LookingandlivinglikeexactlywhatIwas–alawstudentwhowasexpectingababy

withthemansheloved,onewho’dbeenaccusedofacrimeIdidn’tcommit.

“Iloveyou,”Noahsaid.

“Iloveyoutoo.”Hestartedtoclosethedoor,thenstopped.“AndIstillwanttomarry

you.Rightaway.”

“Noah–“

“It’snotbecauseofthebaby.Youknowthat.ItoldyoubeforeIwantedtomarryyou

immediately.”

Inodded.

Hebegantoshutthedooragain,thenstoppedandopenedit.

“Yes?”Isaid,amusedinspiteofmyself.

“TomorrowafterbreakfastwithPennDylan,wehaveadoctor’sappointment.Withthe

bestOBGyninManhattan.OneIdon’thaveahistorywith.”

“Thankyou.”

Hesmiled.“You’rewelcome.”

He shut the door then, and I watched through the window as he started to run, his

thighskickingup,themusclesinhislegsflexing.Ilovedwatchinghimrun.Icouldhave
watcheditforever,watchedhisbeautiful,strongbodymovingthroughthestreetsofNew
York.

Foramoment,outhere,Iwasabletoforgethowmessedupeverythingwas.Wasable

toforgetthatwewereouthereinthemiddleofthenightbecauseNoahwastormentedby
somethingthatmadehimneedtorunatthemostinopportunetimes.ForgetthatI’dbeen
arrested.ForgetwhatitwouldmeanformybabyifIwenttoprison.

Icontinuedtowatchhim,hismovementssmooth,hisbodybroadandmasculine.

Whenheturnedaroundthecorner,IpulledoutmyiPad.

Iwouldlookintolawschools,likehesaid.

Icheckedmyemailfirst,andwassurprisedtofindonefromIvy,thedogwalker.

eyCharlotte–

Ihopeyoudon’tmindthatI’memailingyou.Youremailaddresswasonthelist

ofcontactinfoprovidedbyNoah’sassistant.

Iapologizeforhavingtorushoutsoquicklytonight.

I’d love to have lunch with you and talk about Docket, and get to know each other

better.

Justnamethetimeandplace,andI’llbethere.

Hopetohearfromyousoon,

Ivy

wrote her back, naming a few times and offering the name of my favorite café.
Something about doing that made me instantly feel better – it was a quick sliver of

normalcyinanotherwisecrazyday.

I’dclosedoutmyemailandwasjustabouttogooglePennDylanbeforeIgottowork

onthelawschoolsearch– it never hurt to have as much information on your enemy as
possible–whenthesoundofsquealingtirescamefromaroundthecorner.

Ilookedoutthewindow,justintimetoseeablackcarpulluponthecorneradjacent

toourapartment.

Asecondlater,thebackdooropenedandsomethingwasthrustoutontothesidewalk

withaheavythud.

It was a person, I realized with a sick feeling. Someone had pushed a person out of

theircarandintothesidewalk.

Myhandwasalreadyonthedoorhandle,pushingitopenevenasIheardthesecurity

guardinfrontgettingout,too.

Iwasfasterthanhim,becauseIhadaheadstart.

Theblackcartookoff,speedingdowntheManhattanstreetswithanothersquealofits

tires.

I raced to the figure, who was dressed all in black – black sweatshirt, black

sweatpants,scuffedblacksneakers.

Thepersonwasfacingawayfromme,curledupinaballonthepavement.

Ireachedfortheperson’sshoulderandrolledthemover.

Fromthecornerofmyeye,IcouldseeNoahheadingdownthesidewalktowardme,

completinghislaparoundtheblock.

Whenhesawme,hespedup,beatingthesecurityguard,grabbingmyshouldersand

pullingmebackfromthepersonontheground.ButnotbeforeIhadachancetopullthe
figure’sshoulder,androllthemover.

Thefacewasamisshapeoffeatures,theskinblackandblue,scratchesandbruisesall

over.

Butthatwasn’tthemosthorrifyingpart.

Themosthorrifyingpartwastheeyes.

Oneoftheperson’seyeswasmissing.

Allthatwastherewasabloodyhole,andIfeltmystomachturn.

Justliketheprofessor’seye,wasmyfirstthoughtasIturnedawayandvomitedonto

the sidewalk, Noah holding my hair back. Just like what had happened to the professor
thatnightatForce,thenightNoahalmostdied.

“You’reokay,”Noahsaid.“You’reokay.”He had my hair pulled back. “Do not turn

backaround,Charlotte.”He held his hand on the small of my back firmly, not allowing
metoturnbackaroundandseethehorrorthatwasonthesidewalk.

Butitdidn’tmatter.

Theimagewasburnedagainstmybrain.

Andasthememoryofitpulsedinmymind,theperson’sfeaturesswamintofocus.

AndIrealizedthepersonwhowaslyingthereonthesidewalkwasfamiliar.

Asecondlater,Irealizedwhoitwas,andbileburnedatthebackofmythroat.

Butwhy?

Whywhywhy?

Noahbegantoguidemetotheapartment,alreadyonthephonewith911,callingfor

anambulance.Iwasalwaysgoingtobehisfirstpriority–hewouldgetmeupstairsand
makesureIwassafebeforehereturnedtohelpthefigureonthesidewalk.

But hiding me away in the apartment wasn’t an option. I needed to know what was

goingon.

So I turned and wrenched out of Noah’s grasp, running back toward the crumpled

body.

“Charlotte!’Noahwascomingafterme,butIgottothepersonfirst.

“Whathappened?”Idemanded,evenasNoah’shandsgrabbedmyshouldersandtried

topullmeback.“Whodidthistoyou?”

Thepersonstaredblanklyatmeoutoftheironeeye,notblinkingandnotresponding,

givingnoindicationthatthey’dheardme.

Andthenahandreachedupandpulledmeclose,andthepersonbegantospeak…

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PARTONEEXCERPT

ole

ItstartedthedayIalmostsawhernaked.

Ofcourse,itreallystartedwaybeforethat,withacomplicatedhistoryanddarksecrets

that spun together to create a tangled web of attraction that both of us were helpless to
resist.Weweredrawntoeachotherbecauseofthathistory,becauseofoursharedpast.

Shewasmysoulmate,ineverysenseoftheword.Itwasn’tjustsexual,eventhough

thesexwasthebestI’deverhad.Itwasbeyondthat,alovethattranscendedeverything,
thattookovermysoulandconsumedmeinwaysI’dneverimagined.

Thereasonsweneededtobetogetherareourprologue.

Thereasonswecouldn’tareourepilogue.

Soletmestartwithchapterone.

Thebachelorparty.

MyfriendDukewasgettingmarried,andwewereatastripclubinJerseycelebrating

oneofhislastnightsoffreedom.Itwasn’tthekindofplaceIusuallyvisited–Itendedto
preferclubsinthecity,upscaleplaceswhereyoudidn’thavetoworryaboutsomeasshole
gettingdrunkandstartingafistfightorgettingtoograbbywiththewomen.Atstripclubs
inthecity,thewomenweremodel-gorgeousandeverythingwasclassyandtasteful.The
distastefulstuff-namelythefuckingformoney–tookplaceinprivateVIPsuitesthatwere
doneuptolooklikeahotelroomatThePlaza.

Thisplace–theplaceinJerseythatDukehadpicked–wasrowdyandoutofcontrol.

Everyone in the place was pounding cheap beer, and everywhere you looked guys were
coppingafeel,eventhoughtheclubclaimedtobe‘lookbutdon’ttouch.’

“I want to fuck that one over there,” Duke said, pointing to a young girl with long

blondehairwhowassittingonamiddle-agedman’slap.“Herfuckingassisjustbegging
formydick.”

Thelightsdimmedthen,savingmefromaresponse.

Iturnedmyattentiontowardthestageasahotlittlebrunettecamewaltzingout.She

was wearing a tiny white bikini that strained over her round tits, her nipples clearly
outlinedthroughthefabric.Thebottomwastiedtogetherbytwotinystrings,herlegslong
andlean,herstomachflatandtan.

My cock instantly got hard. I usually didn’t get too worked up over strippers – I’d

never had a problem getting beautiful women, and strip clubs were just too much of a
teasewhenIcouldhavetherealthinganytimeIwanted–butthisgirl’sbodywasinsane.I
imaginedmyhandscaressingherasIuntiedthetopofherbikini,hownicethosebigtits
wouldfeelinmyhands.

Themusicstartedandthespotlightshoneonthestage.

Thegirlswungaroundthepole,herdarkcurlsstreamingbehindher.

AndIchokedonmybeer.

Iknewher.

Itwasmystepsister,Avery.

I hadn’t seen her in five years, when I’d left home at twenty-one and never looked

back.

Jesus,she’dgrownup.Herbodywasfilledout,herhipscurvy,herasstightandtoned.

ShesmiledatthecrowdandDukewhistled.

“Yeah,baby,”heyelled.“Showusthatass.”

Avery obliged, leaning over until her ass was in the air, tight and toned. She was

twenty-two now, old enough to be a stripper, I supposed. But what the fuck? I was
confusedastowhyshewasworkinghere.Averyhadalwaysbeensmart,makingstraight
Asinschooldespiteourparents’totallackofinterestinanythingacademic.

Ishouldhaveleft.Ishouldhaveturnedaroundandwalkedoutofthestripclub,orat

leastwaitedinthebathroomuntilshewasdoneherset.

But I didn’t. Instead I watched as water came shooting down from the ceiling,

drenchingAveryinhertinylittlewhitebikiniuntilhernipplesbecamevisible,darkand
hard,throughthefabric.Herbottomsclungtoherpussy,makingmydickevenharderasI
thoughtabouthowtightitwouldfeelaroundme,howhardmydickwouldgetifIshoved
itinhercutelittlehole.

Stop,Itoldmyself.That’syourstepsister.She’sofflimits.

Butnothingwasofflimits.

Ihadmoney,goodlooks,andpower.

Andthosethingsmadeiteasytogetwhateveryouwanted.

Ishouldhavewalkedaway.

ButIcouldn’ttakemyeyesoffher.

Iwantedher.

AndIalwaysgotwhatIwanted.

very

orkingatastripclubwasdefinitelynotplanA,butdesperationcouldforceyouto
do things you thought you’d never even consider. So when my friend Courtney

toldmeIcouldtakemytopoff,shakemyassalittleonstage,andthenmakefivehundred
bucksbyflirtingwiththeguyswhowatched,Iwentforit.

Ineededthemoney.

Ineededtogetoutofmyhouse.Forgood.AndmyjobatCVSwasn’tenoughforme

tosupportmyselfandmymom,whoIplannedtosomehowconvincetocomewithme.

LastnightlastmystepfatherGordonhadsnuckintomyroomattwointhemorning

whileIwassleeping.I’dcrackedmyeyesandwatchedashecreptovertomycomputer,
where he pulled up a porn video and then began jerking off. I’d pretended to be asleep
while the girl on the screen moaned in pleasure and Gordon jerked his cock harder and
harder until he came, splashing cum on the wall by my bed. The stain was there this
morning,areminderthatitwasn’tjustabaddream,orevenarealityIcouldjustforget
about.

Andthat’swhenImadethedecisiontodowhateverittooktogetthehelloutofthere.

AndnowhereIwas.

I’dneverthoughtofmyselfassexy,hadneverbeenthatcomfortablewithmybody.In

gym class, while the rest of the girls were running around half-naked, I’d huddle in the
corner,turningawaytochangemyclothes.WhenIwenttothebeach,I’dstaycoveredup,
wearingone-piecesandmakingsureIalwayshadacover-upcloseby.I’dlearnedpretty
quickly that wearing a tank top or a skirt in my house – even a tasteful one on a hot
summer’sday–wasawaytogetunwantedattentionfrommystepfather.

SoIwasn’tusedtobeinginclotheslikethis.

Andnow,hereIwas,standingonthestageinawhitebikiniandnothingelse.

“Showusthatass!”someoneyelled.Iwanteddesperatelytodoagoodjobandmakea

lotoftips,soIsmiledatthecrowdandbentover,obliging.

WhenIstoodbackup,watercamepouringdownfromtheceiling,coldandshocking.

No one had told me there was going to be water. It rushed over me in a freezing sheet,
makingmegasp.Goosebumpsbrokeoutonmyarmsandmynippleshardenedunderthe
sheermaterialofmybikini,uselessnowthatitwasdrenched.Youcouldseeeverything.

Themeninthecrowdhootedandholleredatme.

“Yeah,slut!”oneofthemyelled.“Showusthatfatpussy!”

Suddenly,Icouldn’tbreath.Everythinginmyperipheralvisionstartedtoblurandmy

heartwaspoundingoutofmychest.Myheadgotwoozy,andeventhoughI’djustbeen
drenchedwithfreezingcoldwater,myskinfeltlikeitwasonfire.

Iwasgoingtothrowup.

Ineededtogetoffthestage.

Iturnedaroundandstartedtomakemywaybackstage,butIwaswearinghighheels

andthefloorwasslickfromallthewater.

Islippedandfellonmyass,smashingmycollarboneintothefloor.Painradiatedup

myspine,andItriedtostandup,butthefloorwastooslick,andIwentdownagain.Itried
tobracemyselfwithmywrist,butIlandedataweirdangleandheardasickeningcrackas
Ifell.ThemostintensepainI’deverfeltshotthroughmywrist,sharpandstabbing.

Thecrowdwaslaughingatme,themusicstillpoundinginmyears.

Myeyesfilledwithtears,andthensuddenly,outofnowhere,hewasthere.

Cole.

Mystepbrother.

Theshockofseeinghimtherewasenoughtodullthepainforamoment.

“Hey,”hesaid.

“Cole,”Ibreathed.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“Savingyou,”hereplied.And then in one fluid movement, he picked me up off the

stage. I wrapped my arm around his neck. His body was strong and muscular, his arms
safeandwarm.

Heledmethroughthejeeringcrowdandoutsideintotheparkinglotwherehesetme

down on the pavement next to his car. My chest brushed against his. Heat warmed my
cheeksasIbecameawareofthefactthatIwaswearingatinybikini.Atinywetbikinithat
youcouldseerightthrough.Cole’seyesdroppeddowntomychest,andIwatchedashis
gaze slid over my breasts. I tried to cross my arms over myself, but my wrist was
screaminginpain.

Cole grabbed the handle of his car, a silver Lincoln Navigator that looked more

expensivethanmyhouse.

“Getin,”hesaid,openingthedoor.

Thecarwaselevatedoffthegroundalittle,justenoughthatIcouldn’tgetinwithout

bracingmyselfonsomething.Itried,butmywristhurttoomuch.

“Idon’tthinkIcan,”Isaid.

“Here.”Colewrappedhisarmsaroundme,hisgripstrongandtightonmywaist.He

pickedmeupandsetmedownintheseat,thenwentaroundtothedriver’sside.Hegot
insideandturnedtheheatonfullblast.

“Letmeseeyourwrist,”heinstructed.

I held it up and he reached out and took my arm gently, running his finger over my

skin. His touch was soft, tender, and it felt weirdly intimate, having him touch me like
that.Mywristwasalreadygettingswollen,turningpurpleandbruised.“Doyouthinkit’s
broken?”Iaskedhim.

“I’mnotsure,butitcouldbe.”Hereachedintothebackseatandgrabbedasweatshirt.

“Here,”hesaid.“Leanforward.”IdidasIwastoldandhehelpedmeputthesweatshirt
on,pullingitgentlyoveronearmandthentheother.Hezippeditupforme,coveringmy
body.Ashezipped,thetopofhisknucklegrazedagainstmybreast.Ablastoflustshot
throughmybody,intenseandshocking.

“There,”Colesaid.

Helookedatme,andinthatmoment,IrememberedwhyIhatedhim.

He was devastatingly gorgeous. Dark hair. Ripped body. Piercing blue eyes that

contrasted perfectly with his dark complexion. He had a smoldering gaze that made
everyonearoundhimfallinlovewithhim.

MyfriendsusedtojokethatifColelookedatyou,you’dhaveyourpantiesoffbythe

endofthenight.Anditwastrue.He’dsleptwithmostofmyfriends,andanyotherhot
girlhehappenedtowant.

Ithadbeeninfuriatingwhenwewereyounger,watchinghimsneakgirlsintohisroom

at night, hearing them moaning and screaming his name as he got them off. He’d had
things handed to him because he was beautiful and smart and good at sports. No one at
school had cared about the fact that he was poor or that he lived in Culver City, which
everyoneknewwasfullofdrugsandprostitution.Theydidn’tcarethathecouldn’tafford
therightclothes–mostofthetimewhatevergirlhewasdatingwouldbuythemforhim,
anyway.Hell,evengirlshewasn’tdatingwouldbuyhimthings.

IhatedhimbecausehewaseverythingIwasn’t.Hewasoutgoing,Iwasshy.Hewas

smart,Imademediocregrades.Hewasspecial,Iwasn’t.But the biggest reason I hated
himwasbecauseheleftus.Heleftme.

“Whatthefuckareyoudoinghere?”Iblurted.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said, shifting his car into reverse and starting to

pull out of the parking spot. It was typical Cole, taking over and getting things done
withoutevenaskinganyoneelsewhattheywanted.

“No.”Iwenttoopenthedoor,butheslammedthecarintoparkandthenreachedover

andpulledmycardoorshut.“I’mnotgoingtothehospital,”Isaid.

“Youneedtogetyourwristlookedat.”

“Idon’thaveinsurance.”

“So?”

“Sosomeofusdon’thavemillionsofdollars,Cole.Someofuscan’taffordtogoto

thehospital.”

“I’lltakecareofthemoney.”Thecarwasinreverseagain,andasmuchasIwantedto

getawayfromhim,therewasnothingIcoulddo.Mywristwasthrobbing.EvenifIcould
managetogetthedooropen,therewasnowayIwasgoingtobeabletogetmyselfout.

“Youdidn’tanswermyquestion,”Isaid.“Whatthefuckareyoudoinghere?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked. He looked over at me and shook his

head.“Youshouldn’tbeinaplacelikethat,Avery.”

“Oh, now you care about what happens to me? Fuck off, Cole, I’ve been doing fine

withoutyouradviceforyears,I’mprettysureIhaveitundercontrol.”

“Obviously not, since you’re stripping.” He looked at me. “Does your mom know

you’redoingthat?”

“Whatdoyouthink?”Icountered.Mymotherdidn’tcarewhatIdidorwhereIwent.

Shedidn’taskquestions,shedidn’tgetinvolved.Shelivedherlifeinaconstanthazeof
denial,cigarettes,andbooze.

“You’restilllivingathome?”Coleasked.

“Yes,Cole,”Isaid,rollingmyeyes.“I’mstilllivingathome.”

Hishandstightenedonthesteeringwheel,andIknewhewasthinkingabouthisdad,

mystepfather,Gordon.Thewayhewouldlookatme,whathedidwhenhewouldsneak
intomyroomatnight.

“Motherfucker,”Colemumbledunderhisbreath.

Butitdidn’tmeananything.IftherewasanythingI’dlearned,itwasthatwordswere

justwords.Peoplemadepromisesallthetime–socialworkerspromisingtheyweregoing
togetmeoutofmyhorriblesituation,myex-boyfriendJacobpromisinghewouldprotect
me…noneofitmattered.Words were nothing. It was action that mattered, and when it
camedowntoit,noonehadkepttheirpromisestome.

Colehadneverpromisedmeanything.Buthe’dleftme.Fiveyearsago,he’dupand

moved out, packing up his things in the middle of the night and taking the bus to New
YorkCitywiththreeofhisfriends.They’dcreatedasocialmediamessagingapp,adating
appthatwasacrossbetweenFacebookandMatch.com.Ithadtakenoff,andnowhewas
rich.

Ihadtriedtoavoidhearinganythingabouthim,butitwasimpossible.Hispicturewas

splashedallovertheinternet,hisfacealloverthenews.Themedialovedhimbecausehe
wasyoungandgorgeous.

Hewaswell-spokenandcharming,givingperfectsoundbitesandmakingthewomen

journalistsswoon.IsawhimoncedoinganinterviewonCNBC.Wedidn’thavecable,but
IsawitatJacob’shouseonemorningwhenIcouldn’tsleepandwasflippingthroughthe
channels. I had sat there, watching Cole on the screen saying all the right things in his
beautifuldesignersuit.Iwantedtoscreamatthejournalist,tellhershehaditwrong,that
Cole wasn’t this brilliant great guy who came from nothing and made something for
himself.

Therewasmoretohimthanthat

Hewasacompletebastard.

Heabandonedme.

AndIwouldhatehimforeverbecauseofit.

oleinsistedoncomingintotheexamroomwithme,andIwastooweaktoprotest.The

nurse was a bubbly little blonde with big boobs and a gap between hr front teeth.
ShewaspracticallydroolingoverCole.Icouldn’tblameher.

NowthatI’dcalmeddownalittle,Iwasabletogetmyfirstrealgoodlookathim.He

was wearing a pair of expensive-looking dark jeans that hung perfectly on his hips, a
whitet-shirtthatlookedequallyexpensiveandhuggedhisbroadchestandcutarms,anda
black leather jacket with a soft-looking fleece lining. His hair was gelled but slightly
messy,andhischeekshadjustatraceofstubble.Helookedlikehewasreadyforaphoto
shoot.

“The doctor will be right with you,” the nurse said. “If you could just take your

sweatshirtoffsohecangetalookatyourwrist,thatwouldbegreat.”

Assoonassheleft,Irolledmyeyes.“Youmighthavetofuckher,Cole,”Isaid.“Put

heroutofhermisery.”

“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”

Itwasalie.HeknewperfectlywellwhatIwastalkingabout.“Youcanleavenow,”I

said.“Won’tyourfriendsbeworriedaboutyou?”

“Itextedthem.”

“Andsaidwhat?”

“ThatIhadafamilyemergency.”

Ialmostlaughedoutloud.Ourwholelifewasafamilyemergency,aconstantstateof

crisisthatColehadwalkedawayfrom.Andnowhewasworriedaboutmystupidwrist,
whichhonestlywastheleastofmyproblems.

“I’llhelpyougetthisoff.”Hereachedupandunzippedmysweatshirt.Hewasclose

enoughnowthatIcouldseethescaronhisjaw,hiddenbeneathhisstubble.

MyheartracedasIrememberedhowhegotit.IreachedoutandtoucheditbeforeI

couldstopmyself.Hegrabbedmyhand,pulleditawayfromhisface.

“Don’t,”hegrowled.

Itwastheonlythingthatremindedmethathewaspartofourfamily,thathe’dbeen

therewithme,thathe’dlivedthroughit.Nowthathehadfancyclothesandafancycar
andafancyjobheseemedsofaraway,almostlikehe’dneverexisted.

He kept my hand in his, even though he’d told me not to touch him. Electricity

crackledbetweenus.Hewasjustsogoddamnbeautiful.Thekindofbeautifulthatwould
breakyourheartfiftymilliondifferentways.Andhe’ddoneittome,overandoverand
overagain.

Thedoctorcameinthen,andColedroppedmyhand.

“Avery,” he said, holding his hand out. “I’m Doctor Phillippi. I hear you may have

brokenyourwrist?”

“Yes,”Isaid,showinghim.“IfellwhileIwas,um…dancing.”

Thedoctorlookedatit.“Itlookslikemaybeit’sjustasprain.Butwe’llhavetotake

somex-raystomakesure.”

“Okay,”Isaid.“Um,isit…howmuchdoesitcost?”

“It’sfine,”Colesaid.“Itdoesn’tmatter.Dothex-rays.”

Thedoctornoddedandleft.

“Idon’tlikehim,”Coledeclared.“Ididn’tlikethewayhewaslookingatyou.”

“Thewayhewaslookingatme?”Irepeated,frowning.“Hewasn’tlookingatmeany

way.”

“Yeah,hewas.Hewascheckingoutyourtitslikehecouldn’twaittocopafeel.”

“Cole, that’s ridiculous. Besides, it’s hard not to notice them. I’m wearing a bikini

top.” I hunched down, trying to make my boobs a little less conspicuous. But it was
impossible.IwasaDcup,andIwaswearingawhitebikinithatwasdesignedtoshowoff
asmuchcleavageaspossible.

“Yeah,”Colesaid.“Iknow.”His eyes raked up my body, lingering over my breasts.

Andnotinthewayofabrotherwantinghissistertocoverupbecausehefeltprotective,
either.Itwasthewayamanlookedatawoman’sbodywhenhefoundherattractive,when
hewasgettingturnedon.That’sthewayColewaslookingatme.

Hewasmystepbrother.

Iknewitwaswrongforhimtobelookingatmethatway.

ButIlikedit.

WANTMORE?

CLICKHERETOGETBETTERWHENIT’SWRONG(PARTONE)BYCHLOE

HAWKNOW!

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Copyright
WANT TO BE IN THE KNOW?
WHAT HE REASONS
- WHAT HE REASONS
- BETTER WHEN IT’S WRONG by Chloe Hawk

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