Chapter 1

Laura

My vision slowly returned, my eyes struggling to focus as I took in my surroundings. I lay sprawled on the living room floor, the rough shag carpet scraping against my cheek. My wine glass was still in my hand, but the red wine it had contained was now soaking into the carpet near my head.

Or was that blood?

I reached up to my face, feeling the heat radiating from my cheeks as I assessed the damage. I gingerly probed the bridge of my nose and winced at the searing pain. Broken, probably, but no blood.

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. The room spun slightly as I rose, and I gripped the edge of the coffee table for support. My husband's eyes bore into me, cold and unforgiving.

"I'm sorry, Craig," I whispered, my voice barely audible. It was a reflex, an ingrained response to his anger.

His eyes flashed with a dangerous mixture of rage and contempt. "Don't you dare try to make me feel guilty," he spat. "You brought this on yourself.”

I flinched at his words, feeling a familiar cocktail of shame and fear rising within me. Part of me wanted to apologize again, to beg forgiveness for whatever I’d done to set him off this time. But a small, defiant voice in the back of my mind whispered that this wasn't right, that I didn't deserve this.

Slowly, I backed towards the hallway, my eyes never leaving his face. "I know, I did,” I whispered. “And I’m going to make it right.”

His eyes bore into me with a chilling intensity as I edged away, trying to make it seem like I was retreating upstairs to nurse my wounds and reflect on my actions. But deep down, I knew that I couldn't stay any longer. The next time he hit me, it would be worse. He had never struck me in such a visible place before - next time, he might even kill me.

As I reached the foyer, glancing back to ensure he wasn't following me, I frantically grabbed my keys from the table at the bottom of the staircase and bolted toward the front door.

"Laura! What the FUCK do you think you're—" His angry shout was abruptly cut off as I slammed the door shut behind me. My hand shook as I pressed a button on my keys, the loud chirping noise filling the tense air of the night.

I was already buckled into my car and reversing out of the driveway when he appeared by my window, pounding on it with furious fists.

“Baby, please,” he begged softly, trying to sound sweet even though he was still clearly seething with rage. “I’m sorry. Just come back inside and let’s talk about this.”

I slammed on the gas as I finally reached the road. My tires squealed against the pavement, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out his final words.

“You’ll fucking regret this, you BITCH!”

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I felt lost and alone as I drove aimlessly, unsure of where my next steps would lead me. The few people I had once considered friends were now distant acquaintances, all tied to my husband and his social circle. I had left everything behind, with only the clothes on my back to call my own.

Panic washed over me as it registered that I didn’t even have my phone or my wallet, leaving me completely vulnerable in this wicked place. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as the overwhelming reality of my situation weighed down on me.

My heart raced as I made my way down the familiar highway toward the only place I could think of for refuge. But as my car drew closer to Warriors territory, where my brother's biker club reigned supreme, doubts and anxieties gnawed at me. It had been years since I’d last seen or spoken to him, at our mother's funeral.

The memory of her passing four years ago still weighed heavily on my mind. She was the strongest woman I had ever known. She’d raised Jake and I completely on her own, after our scumbag of a father took off when I was less than a year old.

Her funeral was also the last time I had any contact with anyone from my hometown. That day, amidst the tears and condolences, a heated argument erupted between Craig and I that ended up becoming public knowledge. My brother, who happened to be the President of the biker club, wasted no time in running Craig out of town with me in tow.

Since then, Craig had slowly but surely isolated me from my friends and loved ones. Our home was two hours away from my hometown, making it nearly impossible for me to accidentally run into anyone I knew in public. And on top of that, he closely monitored my phone calls and interactions, leaving little room for me to reach out to others without his knowledge.

But now, in a moment of bravery and desperation, I found myself driving towards my brother's house in search of some sense of comfort and familiarity. Uncertainty tugged at my heart, but I pushed forward despite it. This could potentially be my chance at reclaiming a piece of my old life back - or it could lead to even more chaos and upheaval. Only time would tell.