Chapter 3

Three years later

Alyssa

"Open this f*****g door, Alyssa!"

Isaac’s furious voice echoes through the house as he pounds on the bedroom door, each blow rattling the hinges. My heart hammers against my ribs as I scoop Zuri from her crib, slipping a tiny pair of noise-canceling headphones over her delicate ears.

"Mommy's going to get us out of here, sweetheart. Just hold on," I whisper, my voice trembling as I press my cheek to hers, drawing comfort from her warmth.

I warned him.

I warned him that if he ever hit me in front of our daughter, it would be over.

But he didn’t listen.

Tonight, he hit me so hard that I almost fell on top of Zuri while she was sitting on the floor.

That was the last f*****g straw.

I’ve endured his rage, his fists, his endless excuses for three years. But I won’t allow Zuri to grow up thinking this is okay. She’s only seven months old—too young to remember this night—but I will not let her first memories include watching her father raise his hand at me.

I'm sorry, babe. I promise it will never happen again.

I brought you some flowers, Tylenol, and an ice pack. I love you.

What will our daughter think if you take her away from her father who loves her?

If you leave me, there's nowhere you can hide that I won’t find you. I swear, I'll kill all of us.

I'm so tired of the empty apologies. The love bombing. The cycle of violence and remorse, over and over and f*****g over again.

Zuri deserves better.

I deserve better.

Isaac continues to slam his fists into the door, the sound splitting through the room like a gunshot.

"I swear to God, Alyssa. Open this goddamn door, or I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week!"

His voice rises, his hits hard, angrier. I hear the wood splinter, the lock groaning under his assault.

I have seconds.

My pulse drums in my ear as I sling a diaper bag over my shoulder—the only bag I packed, stuffed with everything Isaac didn’t buy me.

With one final glance at the door, I yank the window open.

The house is only one story. The drop isn’t far.

Clutching Zuri tightly to my chest, I climb out and run.

I sprint across the yard, moving so fast my feet barely touch the ground.

The spare key in my pocket feels like a lead weight as I round the corner, heading straight for my car. I fumble with the key, my hands trembling, shoving it into the lock. Yanking the door open, I climb in the front seat, locking the door behind me.

I frantically scramble to the back seat, strapping Zuri into her car seat. Her hazel eyes blink up at me, filled with innocent wonder—completely unaware of the danger closing in on us.

"I'm sorry to wake you, my sweet girl. We're going to go visit Uncle Gray for a little while," I whisper, forcing a shaky smile as I make sure her buckles are secure.

None of my family or friends know about Zuri.

They don't even know I was ever pregnant.

I haven’t spoken to anyone since she was born.

Isaac made sure of that—isolating me from everyone I loved, drilling into my head that I was nothing without him.

And maybe I'm not.

But I promise to whoever created this f****d up world—if I make it out of here alive tonight, I will be better. I will be the mother Zuri deserves.

I slide back into the driver’s seat, my hands still shaking as I shove the key into the ignition.

The engine roars to life.

A sudden, bloody fist slams against the window.

I jump, gasping as Isaac’s furious face appears, his blue eyes wild with rage.

"I'll kill you, Alyssa! I'll kill you and bury your ass in the f*****g backyard!” he roars.

He'll actually do it. This is the angriest I've ever seen him, and I know he'll take it too far this time. I'll be dead, and there'll be no one to stop him from doing the same to our daughter.

Zuri wails, her tiny cries cutting through the chaos. Each pound of his fists reverberates through the car, sending fear and apprehension coursing through me.

No. We have to leave.

Now.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white.

"Move, Isaac!" I scream. "Or I swear to God, I will run you over!”

He doesn't budge.

His chest heaves as he continues to hammer away at the glass, his eyes daring me to follow through on my threat.

I slam the gas pedal, the car lurching backward.

At the last second, he jumps away, his feet barely avoiding my tires.

Then I speed off, leaving our current life behind once and for all.

I drive for miles, my vision blurred with tears, my hands shaking violently against the wheel.

Zuri is finally asleep, but I know we’re not safe yet.

Isaac is probably tracking my car right now, and if I don’t ditch it soon, he’ll find us.

Pulling over to the side of the road, I gasp for air, my chest tight with panic.

I dig through my bag, yanking out my phone.

Isaac has always tracked me—even when I just ran to the store. If I was even two minutes late, he’d revoke my driving privileges for the month.

I try to call Gray, but it goes straight to voicemail.

I try again.

And again.

Finally, I leave a voicemail, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.

“Gray, please call me when you get this.”

I glance back at Zuri, still sleeping peacefully.

"We're going to be okay," I whisper, more to myself than her. "I'll keep us safe."

But what the hell am I going to do?

I'm running out of time.

Isaac will find us and drag us back to that hellhole.

If I go to the police, it won’t matter. I’ve done it once before, and they sent me right back to him. Of course, money was involved.

I know if I report him again, he’ll kill me this time.

Another name comes to mind—someone I never thought I’d have to speak to again in my life.

But I know he’ll help me.

I hesitate before dialing the number, hoping to God it hasn’t changed. There are only a few people that have his personal number. But for some reason, he gave it to me a few months after I started dating Isaac.

He picks up on the first ring.

I don’t even wait for him to speak first.

"King, Gray won't answer his phone. Please. I need your help."