Brook squeezes my hand once before letting go, her expression softening. “You should deal with this, Noah. Don’t let it drag out. The longer it hangs over you, the more power she has… and someone like her? You have to crush them before they be too powerful.”


    Her words sink deep, leaving cracks in my already frayingposure. It’s thest push I need to deal


    with Sierra.


    I force a smile for her sake, and it takes everything in me to maintain it.


    She stands up, kisses my cheek, and murmurs, “Goodnight.”


    When she disappears down the hall, the silence hits me like a weight. Alone again, my mind begins


    spinning, faster and darker with every second.


    The walls of the house press in, suffocating me in the process. My pulse won’t settle and every thought


    circles back to Sierra.


    I yank my phone from the table and call her.


    It rings thrice before she hangs up.


    I stare at the screen, disbelief burning into rage.


    I call again. This time she hangs up faster. The sound of disconnection, ringing like a loud bell that won’t


    stop.


    I stare at the screen, chest heaving at the audacity she has. Has she grown too confident now that she thinks she has an ace card? She was never like this. She used to bow her head and give in to everything I


    said, but now because of this damn baby, she’s grown bold.


    My jaw clenches as I press her number a third time, but it goes straight to voicemail.


    Does she think that’s going to stop me? That it’s going to make me leave her alone? She’s dead wrong if


    she thinks that’s all it takes to fucking stop me.


    Rage detonates inside my chest like a bomb, hot and uncontroble. She thinks she can toy with me. Thinks she can dangle this nightmare over my head and then disappear. If she won’t take my calls, then I’ll go to her. She thinks she can make choices that involve me without consequence? I’ll make sure she


    knows just how wrong she is.


    I can’t wait another day. Can’t sit in this house while she shuts me out, while the thought of that baby gnaws through my ribs like acid. While she makes moves to tether me to her.


    I grab my keys, ready to face the lying bitch Keys in hand, I storm out of the house and get in my car.


    The road blurs under the headlights, my pulse thrumming with every mile. My eyes face forward,


    unseeing, but my mind is sharper than ever. Cutting and vicious.


    Ideas slip through the cracks of my rage.


    If she refuses to listen, Then I’ll make her.


    If she’s stubborn, I’ll break until she yields.


    If she pushes back, I’ll push harder.


    If she thinks she can y games with me, she’s about to learn who she’s up against.


    And if she still insists on keeping it, then she’ll regret it


    I think of anything and everything I can use against her. Ideas on how I can bend her will to mine sh through my head at lightning speed. I need something that will bury her. Something that will make her abandon the stupid idea of keeping the baby.


    She’s living in a fairytale where she thinks I’ll ept her and the baby. Where we are one big happy fucking family. I need to show her that will never happen. That dream she’s had since we were kids? It


    will nevere true as long as I’m breathing.


    By the time I pull into her driveway, my decision is already made.


    I stalk up to her door and pound my fist against it, hard enough to rattle the frame.


    I don’t care about the hour. Don’t care about the neighbors. This ends tonight.


    Sierra’s POV


    The pounding drags me from sleep.


    At first, I thought it was part of a dream, but it just kept going, heavy, noisy and unrelenting. I groan and bury my face into the pillow.


    “Arrg,” I scream into it, my tears threatening to fall.


    Seriously! I’d just fallen asleep after Noah interrupted my sleep with his bullshit. I just want to freaking


    sleep; is that too much to ask?


    I stay curled in bed, covers wrapped tight, praying it will stop. Hoping against all hopes it will go back to being quiet. But it doesn’t. Each m against my door vibrates through the windows, each bellow of my name slicing into my nerves.


    I know that voice like I know the back of my hand.


    Noah.


    My chest tightens with dread, but anger quickly rises to meet it. I’m not going to feed his tantrum. I’m not


    opening that door. Not tonight. Not ever, if I can help it. He can stand out there in the cold all night for all


    I care.


    I was resolute in my decision–that is, until my phone buzzed with a call from my neighbor from next


    door.


    “Miss Meyers?” the tired, sharp voice snaps. “If you don’t handle the man pounding on your door, I’ll call the police.”


    My blood runs cold as panic slides down my spine. That is thest thing I need. Cops on my doorstep arresting Noah. It won’t even take half an hour before reporters smell a fresh kill and they’re here with


    cameras.