Page 67 of Filthy Secret

I call Ryan mine.

They are my life. My world. My family. And I am going to protect them at any cost, even if it means people have to die. Although it won’t be a hardship for some of these fucks to die, especially the pimp, and I think I might smile when I finally end Ellen. That is one bitch I won’t even lose a minute of sleep over.

When it’s done, when they’ve taken their last breaths, that is when my life with my new family can finally start. All the shit gets pushed aside. No more pain and hurt, no more guilt and lies. Just looking forward to a future that is nothing but brightness.

At least that is the ideal dream.

And I know I’m supposed to be some tough fucker, but I can still have a dream. And Ryan has always been that for me. I’m not letting anything happen to her, not ever again. I am going to relish in killing that motherfucker who dared touch what is mine.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

RYAN

“I brought cupcakes because I heard you’re locked in, and honestly, I don’t know what to do when something is all up in the air, so I bake,” Shawn announces as she walks into the kitchen with a pink bakery box in hand.

“I’m going to be a million pounds if you keep supplying me with treats,” I say as she approaches me.

She shrugs a shoulder, placing the box down with one hand and her other hand on her round belly as her eyes meet mine. “You could just get pregnant again, and then poof, snack city.”

I burst out laughing just as Adam reaches for the box. “Can I?” he asks.

“May you, and yes, but only one.”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes focused on the box as he attempts to make the best choice possible, meaning taking the biggest one there is in the box. I only know this is what he’s thinking and doing because it’s exactly what I do. When he finally settles on one, he sinks back onto his stool and happily munches on the oversized cookie.

“No pregnancy for me anytime soon, but I’m excited to hold a new baby again. It seems like it’s been a lifetime,” I say with a smile.

Shawn smiles, shrugging a shoulder. “So, how long do you have to stay?” she asks, switching topics.

“Until he’s found,” I whisper, lifting my fingers to my face to touch the bruising that is still around my eye.

It’s not as bad as it was, but it’s not completely healed either. I don’t know how long it takes for this kind of massive bruising to heal, but it feels like it’s taking forever. A lifetime almost. I think about calling Rose to tell her that I miss her, but I don’t want to worry her. She would hear it in my voice, the panic, the worry, the absolute lost feeling that is inside of me.

“Atomic won’t take long. I don’t think he’s going to let this guy run free for more than a few days. He’s playing with him.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her that Golden Joker, while an asshole and stupid as shit, is also mean and cruel. He is, without a doubt, playing with Atomic, me, with everyone, and now that I’ve laid eyes on my mother again, he’s likely playing her, too.

“Yeah,” I exhale.

“Besides,” she begins, “he won’t want you and Adam here long with all of the… festivities.”

Festivities is right. Wrinkling my nose, I reach for a cookie of my own, unable to resist the sweet temptation in front of me, the smell overpowering my senses. I’m not even sure what to do here.

I have my son, who seems happy for now, but after a couple of hours, he’s going to be tired of being cooped up. Adam likes to run and play. He’s a kid through and through. Only so much screen time, toys, and coloring can entertain him before he needs to run.

He reminds me of his father that way.

Never content to sit and do anything, always needing to run, to ride, to be free. And I don’t blame him, really. I am much the same way. I feel bad that Adam has two parents who can’t seem to sit still.

Shawn’s eyes catch mine as she reaches for a cupcake. I watch as she brings the pink frosted cake to her lips.

“Have you thought about the future after this?” Shawn asks. “I mean, when you’re finished running and hiding. Are you going to do what you did before?”

“Work as a school secretary?” I ask. Shaking my head, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, my eyes focused on hers. “I’m going to be working in your bakery,” I say with a smile.

She doesn’t say anything immediately, but her brows snap together, and her eyes are focused on mine. “You can’t work in my bakery,” she says on a whisper. “That’s a teenage girl’s job. You need something that is going to pay the bills.”