The little box I kept small personal items in, was sitting there waiting for me. Flipping open the lid, I reached in and pulled out the locket. The broken chain was still attached.

Popping it open, my eyes moved over the baby’s picture first, trying to see if he marked a resemblance at all to Kyle, but once my eyes landed on the girl’s picture… I knew. Actually, as many times as I’d looked at her picture over the years, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed sooner.

The red hair, the green eyes, and the smile on her sweet face—they were all an exact match. I sat back on the bed, clutching the locket in my hand and closed my eyes.

While Vick had moved on with her life, I’d searched and found out their names. It was sick, but I needed to know. Sitting here now, I wished I’d never done it.

What kind of sick fuck had I become? The type who fell in love with the daughter of the people I’d helped murder.

I could deny it all I wanted. I could push the feelings away until I couldn’t push anymore, but I had to come to terms. I’d fallen in love with Roz. She was everything to me, had been from the moment I’d first laid eyes on her.

“You can call me Roz.”

Her words swam through my mind, over and over again.

”That’s my last name.”

Harris. A name I knew well. A name which haunted me for the last twelve years of my life. And would continue to haunt me until the day I died.

What kind of cruel joke was this? Karma was ripping my ass a new one. The exact moment I knew I was in love for the first time in my life, was the exact moment I found out she could never be mine. Ever.

A week. That’s how long it had been since I realized I was in love. I hadn’t seen her face—heard her voice… nothing.

It was the right thing to do. So I blocked the world out and let the club run itself while I got drunk and dwelled in my self-loathing. I didn’t answer the door. I didn’t answer any calls, and I didn’t even think about looking at my text messages.

Vick called and beat on my door constantly, but I wasn’t ready to see her face. I wasn’t ready to find out whether or not she knew I’d been fucking and dominating a girl I owed the world to.

I was the reason her parents were gone. I didn’t pull the trigger, but I might as well have.

Finally, after a week of seclusion, I went to my office. Within minutes Vick was bursting through the doors, claws out, and frothing at the mouth.

“What the fuck, Sebastian?” Fire shot from her eyes. “You just lock yourself in your apartment for a week? Fuck the club? Fuck me? I’ll have you know I busted my ass this week picking up the slack for you.”

Her words penetrated me and I flew off the handle. Slamming my hands into the desk, I stood.

“I’ve picked up the slack for you for years,” I yelled. “I covered your ass a million times, including the time you blew two people away. Don’t you dare come in my office with your shit or I swear to God…”

She stood there staring back at me, her face softening. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

I wanted to keep yelling at her. I wanted to scream and throw things, but I couldn’t.  The truth was, I didn’t trust Vick since the night I watched her murder two innocent people.

I’d sat in my apartment for week thinking about all the shit I wanted to say to her when I saw her again, but now none of it felt good enough. Instead I stared at her, willing her to tell me everything she knew.

“Did you know?” I asked, my voice steady and hard as steel.

“Do I know what?” she asked.

“Don’t fucking play games with me, Victoria.” My voice echoed off the walls of my office. “Did. You. Know?”

It took a moment, as she gleaned my meaning, and then her face cleared of all confusion. Stunned surprise took its place, and I knew. I fucking knew my answer.

“And you let me fuck her? You knew who she was and you let me proposition her anyway?”

“How did you find out her name? She told you?”

“What the hell does it matter how I know her name? I fucking know her name.”

She fell back a step and it was her turn to read the answer on my face.

“You asked her?” She couldn’t control her shock and somewhere underneath was a little bit of anger. “You’ve never asked for a name.”

“She’s different,” I growled and sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “Well, she was fucking different. You should have told me, Vick. You know very fucking well you should have told me.”