Chapter 1
The laughs and chatter that surrounded the dinner table were deafening. The faces that accompanied the voices were a blur. I sat mutely while my thoughts ran a marathon in my head.
When did my life come to this? Why did I acquiesce to Damien’s proposal when I knew I didn’t love or want him anymore?
Damien Murphy was deceptive, manipulative, and ultimately, my terror.
He was my Nightmare on Elm Street.
As I sat around his family on this Thanksgiving Day, I wanted desperately to run far away from here. While they smiled and laughed, having the best holiday ever, I was drowning in despair.
This wasn’t my family. I had been isolated from them for almost a year.
I hadn’t spoken to my sister or my mom since Scottlyn was born almost a year ago.
They came to the hospital when I gave birth to her, then Damien whisked me away to Buck Fuck Egypt, and I hadn’t seen or spoken to them since.
In Damien’s mind, my family was trying to control me because they didn’t want us to be together.
That wasn’t entirely true.
My family saw what I didn’t see, and that was why you should never not listen to your mother when she tells you shit. My inability to see beyond the wool pulled over my eyes was the precursor for him to have free rein to abuse me—mentally, physically, and emotionally.
I should have known something was wrong when I saw him taking pills when we moved in together. He told me it was for his anxiety, and me believing everything the bastard said, I never thought to check to see if it was actually pills for anxiety.
Damien was a liar—a wolf in sheep’s clothing, if I had to describe him. The day I met him was a day I would always regret. Every time I thought about him approaching me that summer afternoon four years ago while I was at the beach with my sister, Jasmine, I became even more depressed.
His looks and charm pulled me in the moment we locked eyes.
Our conversation was effortless and pure.
He told me he owned three detailing companies and a barbershop.
When I asked him how he had acquired those businesses, he told me he had made investments that grew over time.
I shouldn't have accepted such a vague answer, but being the sheltered, na?ve princess I was, I fell for the fine entrepreneur.
It wasn’t until a year later, and after I gave him my virginity, that I found out that he was one of the biggest kingpins in all of Detroit and Muskegon.
He ran with some crew called the Broadstreet Bullies.
I was terrified to hear that because I had heard of the Broadstreet Bullies.
The things they did to people had me blocking his number the moment I heard about his involvement.
Of course, he came with more lies that I ended up believing.
We were together for three years before I got pregnant.
At that point, I could see the negative subtle changes in him.
He suddenly cut me off from my friends, then told me I couldn’t wear certain things, and eventually began to keep me away from my family more often than not.
After Scottlyn was born, he moved us three hours away from my family from Detroit to Muskegon, Michigan.
He bought me a new phone, and when I asked if he had transferred my contacts so I could call my mom, he told me no and that he’d sold my old phone.
I knew then that things between us would never be the same.
I wasn’t allowed to have social media, so while I could make dance videos, there was no way for me to showcase my passion. Being a choreographer had become a fleeting memory after he threatened to take my phone and break my legs if I even thought about posting any of them.
The asshole made sure he had a dance studio built in our 12,000-square-foot home and guaranteed I had all the luxuries I needed. But I wasn’t happy—hadn’t been since he moved me here and started putting his hands on me.
As I sat beside him, I felt invisible; unseen.
His family didn’t care that he was a monster.
Through the black eyes, broken ribs, broken arms, and busted lips, they ignored it all as if my being harmed was normal.
At first, it started with pushes and slaps here and there.
When he saw that I wouldn’t fight him back, it turned into punches and kicks.
I confided in his mother and told her what her son was doing to me.
She pretended to care and consoled me, but as soon as I got home, I was met with fists, feet, and words.
“You think my mama gon’ save you, bitch?”
So many times I wanted to run away, but with no money, no job, and my family miles away, I could do nothing but wait for an opportunity that I felt would never come.
As I looked down at my precious baby girl resting in my arms, my eyes watered because she didn’t deserve this. Damien doted over Scottlyn so much that you would never be able to tell he was an evil being. I, however, didn’t get that affection and attention anymore.
Bottom line: never trust a good dick and a handsome smile.
“Eat your food.” The command in his voice made me tense.
I didn’t have an appetite, but to avoid an altercation later, I picked up my fork and scooped some potato salad into my mouth.
The shit was trifling.
I hated potato salad, but of course, Mr. Hyde put a healthy amount on my plate because his mother, Delilah, said I looked thin.
“Aye, Dame. You remember when Luke busted that girl’s windows out of her house last summer?” Damien’s cousin, Deja, asked while laughing.
“Hell yeah! That girl had his head so gone. His ass was stalking her for weeks.”
“I still stalk her ass,” Luke said with a smile on his face.
They all laughed as if the behavior was normal.
This whole family is fucking toxic.
“It’s been two years, nigga. You need to let that go,” Dakari, Damien’s uncle, voiced while shaking his head. He was probably the most sane one at this table.
Not being able to take much more of the conversation, I looked over at Damien. “I’m going to go lay her down. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He looked at me but didn’t reply, so I stood and headed toward the back of the house to the spare bedroom.
Closing the door, I lay my baby on the bed, pulled the blanket over her, and sat beside her.
Just looking at her, I knew I had to do better for her.
She didn’t deserve to have a weak mother.
I wanted my baby to be strong, confident, and brought up in love.
She didn’t know what her father was doing to me now, but eventually she would if I stayed in this relationship with him.
I couldn’t marry this man. I just couldn’t.
Tears came to my eyes, then slid down my cheeks, just as the door opened. I hurriedly tried to wipe my tears away as I looked over to see Damien entering the room.
“Fuck you crying for?”
“I wasn’t. I had something in my eye,” I lied.
He walked further into the room and closed the door.
He walked toward us, planted a kiss on Scottlyn’s cheek, then pulled me up and wrapped his arms around my waist. I winced from the pain that shot up my back from him pushing me into the edge of the counter last night because the shirt he wanted to wear out wasn’t done drying.
His hands explored my body, and he planted a kiss on my neck, then nuzzled his nose there.
“You know I hate when I have to put my hands on you, J. I love you so much. You’re about to be my wife, but there are some things I need you to improve on.”
I rolled my eyes behind his back. “Like what?”
He pulled away and looked into my eyes. “First, you need to stop depending on me so much. I know I said I don’t want you to work, but if you’re going to be a stay-at-home mom, you need to pick up some kind of hobby.”
“I make dance videos—”
“Not that bullshit. Pick something else you’re good at.”
“That’s all I’m good at,” I said, just above a whisper.
“That ain’t all you’re good at.” A smirk spread across his face into a mischievous grin. He pulled me toward the bathroom and locked us inside. My stomach sank because I didn’t want to do anything sexual with him. I hated his damn guts, so sexing him was far from my mind.
“Get on your knees, baby.”
“Dame, I don’t think we should be doing this in your mother’s house.”
“Jela, don’t make me have to repeat myself.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair, then forced me to my knees.
Tears burned my eyes, but I dared not let them fall. I’d end up being shoved in the damn toilet.
“Pull my pants down.” He stroked my head lovingly as I pulled down his joggers and boxers. His dick sprang out, and I grabbed it, regrettably stroking it before opening my mouth and swirling my tongue around the head.
“Stop playing with it, J. Eat this dick,” he said, pushing my head further into his groin. I opened my mouth wider to suck him in when Scottlyn’s cries filled the room as someone knocked on the door.
Thank you, Jesus!
“Fuck!” he whispered, pulling his pants up and leaving the bathroom. I stood to my feet and followed him out while he picked up Scottlyn and opened the door.
His cousin, Neveah, stood at the door with a smile on her face. “Truce just got here.”
“Oh, word?” he asked, excited.
“Yup!” she replied, just as excited.
I didn’t know who this Truce was, but I was assuming they were someone the family all loved.
“Here I come.” Damien turned to me, handing me Scottlyn. “Put her back to sleep and come out here so I can introduce you to my people. We gon’ finish that other shit later.”
I nodded while taking my baby, and he left the room. Neveah lingered behind for a moment, still smiling and looking at me.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Y-yeah. I’m good,” I stuttered.
No one in this family had ever asked me that.
Hell, they barely talked to me. Neveah and her sister, Charmaine, were the only girls in the family and around my age.
We were cordial, but they never said more than “hi” and “bye” to me, so her question caught me off guard.
Honestly, Neveah had been traveling the world with her new boo, so I rarely saw her, but Charmaine had been around most of the time and never said a word to me.
“You can say if you’re not. I know we don’t talk much, and I know you don’t have any friends here. If you ever—”
“Nev! Come on!” someone yelled from down the hall.
“Sorry. I gotta go. King Truce has entered the building.” She playfully rolled her eyes, rubbed Scottlyn’s thick hair, and then sauntered off.
I closed the door before sitting on the bed to rock my baby back to sleep.
God, please take me away.
It only took thirty minutes to get my baby back to sleep after Damien and Neveah left the room.
I think Scottlyn knew that I wasn’t fucking with her daddy and needed an escape from him.
I let out an exasperated sigh, dreading going back out there and being fake.
I wanted my mom. I missed my sister and my friends.
I literally had no one, and just the thought of it made me sick.
I grabbed the baby monitor from her bag, then headed down the hall toward the voices that had now migrated to the sitting room.
Upon entering, my eyes caught the broad back of the person who had the family in jovial moods.
He was tall, maybe six-four, and had long hair that hung down his back in two braids.
I could tell he’d just gotten off from work, being that he had on slacks and a dress shirt.
He was talking to Damien while Neveah was tucked under his arm.
His laugh echoed around the room while everyone else laughed at whatever Damien had said to him.
I was about to head to the kitchen to get some water and sit out on the back patio when Damien spotted me and called me over.
“J, come here. I want you to meet my brother.”
Brother? Since when did he have one of those?
Damien had never mentioned having a brother. He called his workers his brothers, but that was as far as that went.
As I headed in their direction, his brother turned, and my heart stopped momentarily.
This couldn’t be his blood brother. This man was too damn fine to be a relative of Damien’s.
Not to say Damien wasn’t fine, but his brother had light brown eyes, a chiseled face, thick brows, and long lashes that made Damien look “okay” at best.
Trying to keep my cool, I stood next to Damien while he wrapped his arm around my waist.
“J, this is my brother, Truce. Tru, this is my fiancée, Jela.”
Our eyes met, and the smile that adorned his rich, caramel face had my panties moist.
Shit.
“Nice to finally meet you, Jela. Welcome to the family.” He extended his hand, and I took it.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you as well,” I replied, hurriedly taking my hand from his. I didn’t want to let on how I wanted that hand to touch me in every sinful way possible.
The way he stared at me made me want to sink into the floor and disappear.
What the hell is wrong with you, Jela? Don’t give this man any more eye contact unless you want to go waterboarding again.
“When were you going to tell me you were gettin' hitched, bruh?” he asked Damien.
“When ya ass finally decided to make an appearance. You’ve been gone since forever. You ain’t even met ya niece yet.”
“Had to get that promo. Now that I got it, y’all will be seeing more of me.”
“You're staying?” Uncle Dakari asked.
“I am. My house should be done in the next sixty days, hopefully sooner.”
“Really?” Delilah asked, smiling widely.
Truce smiled his gorgeous smile, now indented in my memory. “Yeah, Ma. Your prodigal son is returning home.”
“Ayyyeee!” The room erupted with praises, and Delilah fell into his arms.
“I’m so happy, baby. I missed you,” she said, rubbing his back before stepping away.
“I missed you, too, Ma. And I really missed your cooking.”
She beamed. “You know I got a plate waiting just for you, baby.”
“Sweet. Let me wash my hands so I can get in on that. Let’s get them bones poppin’, Unc.”
“You ain't said nothing but a word!” Uncle Dakari said, rushing off while everyone laughed.
“I’m going to get some water,” I told Damien.
“A’ight. Bring us some beers back. We’ll be on the patio.” He tapped me on my ass and shooed me away.
I wanted to spit in his face, but I just nodded.
Before I walked away, Truce and I locked eyes again, and the small spark that one look made could have been detected if anyone was paying close attention. I hurriedly made my way out of the room before I found myself in something I wouldn’t be able to get out of.