Yep, I’m screwed up beyond all fucking belief.

“Morning.” Mackenzie’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts a few minutes later. Not expecting her company, I jump a little in my chair, my coffee spilling over the side of the mug and burning my hand.

“Morning,” I reply as I wipe my hand on the back of my shirt. She doesn’t step forward right away so I encourage her. “Come in.” She doesn’t make eye contact; instead, her hands fold over the front of her and clasps her upper arms. “You sleep well?” I ask, wanting her to look at me.

“Like a baby. Haven’t slept like that for God knows how long.” As she speaks, the tension leaves her body slowly and she finally looks up, giving me her eyes. She doesn’t make any further attempt to talk, so I take a minute to look her over. Besides the cut on her lip and the small bruise on her cheek, she shows no other sign of injury. Her dark hair is pulled back in a short ponytail. I want to ask her why she cut it all off, but I don’t. It’s not like she owes me an explanation. She’s wearing the same jeans and shirt she had on last night and I make a mental note to ask one of the girls to sort out new clothes for her today.

“You want some breakfast?” I stand and point to a chair, hoping she takes the direction so I can feed her. Like I thought yesterday, the woman hasn’t been eating. I’m only going by what I remember the night I met her, versus what I see now. She looks skinny, too skinny, where before she was definitely more than just skin and bones.

Nothing a few weeks of her eating enough food can’t fix, though.

“Ahh, I’m pretty hungry, but please, I can fix it.”

“You sit. I’ll cook,” I order and watch her recoil at my tone and command. Shaking my head at my stupidity, I step forward and try to reassure her. “I have it sorted today. Maybe you can cook tomorrow.” It almost feels strange compromising on something like this with a woman. I mean I’m not a complete dictating asshole, but there are certain tastes I have.

A willing and submissive woman is one of them.

Something Mackenzie is not, which only makes the line already drawn even more vivid.

“Sure, we can take turns,” she agrees quickly and takes a seat next to where I was sitting.

“Coffee?” I hide my pleasure at her agreeing and reach for a cup.

“Yes, please,” she answers, and I fill the cup with the black liquid I brewed half an hour ago. I walk back to the table and hand her the cup. She doesn’t bother with cream or sugar. Instead, she takes a sip and rests back in her chair. Before I get caught watching her, I set about making eggs for the both of us. I’m sure some of my brothers will wake up to the smell of breakfast and probably give me a hard time for not cooking enough, but I don’t give a fuck right now.

“Kelly said she gave you a tour of the place last night?” I start an easy conversation hoping to relax her a little more.

“Yeah, the place is huge. I might get lost, but I think I have it.” I nod, cracking two eggs at a time into the pan. “And sorry I didn’t speak to you again, but I was just so exhausted.”

“No problem, but we will need to have a chat with Nix today.”

“Oh, did you decide something in your meeting?” I hear the panic in her voice before I turn back and watch it slide over her face.

“No, we wanted to talk to you about pressing charges against Chad.” I set her at ease, but it only serves to push her further.

“No, Beau. It’s not worth the hassle, with his connections.” Her head moves from side to side. I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself.

“It will help. Having him caught up in the courts can give us more time.”

“No cops, Beau.” Her hands fist in front of her, turning her knuckles almost white.

“Kenzie, you have to trust who we bring in on this.”

“No cops,” she repeats, this time with more force. I hold her stare for a beat trying to get a read on her.

“Okay, darlin’. No cops.” She holds her breath for another few seconds before letting it out in a loud exhale.

“Thank you, Beau.” I nod, then turn back to the eggs. I shouldn’t be surprised by her distrust of cops considering Mayor Morre’s connections. I suspect he has a lot of men in the force on his books.

“So do you live here full time?” she asks, her tone lighter than only moments earlier. All signs of her apprehension are gone.

“I have my own place, but I stay here from time to time,” I answer, knowing from here on out I’ll be staying at the compound.

“You stayed last night?”

“I did, and will continue until you’re settled.” I reach up to the cupboard where the plates are kept and pull down two. She doesn’t say anything at my admission, so I don’t push it. Instead, I plate up the eggs and place some bread in the toaster. Mackenzie stays quiet while I finish making our breakfast. The silence isn’t awkward, more calming and I find myself not wanting to break it.

After a few minutes pass, I quietly place her breakfast in front of her and wait for her to come out of her head.

“Oh, this looks great.” She comes back to the moment and looks over at me.

“Just eggs and toast, darlin’,” I play it down, not wanting her to make a big deal about it.

“I’ve barely eaten in three days. It’s not just eggs and toast,” she states with a shrug, unfazed by her revelation and how it might affect anyone knowing exactly what she’s been through. She owns it and it practically has me coming apart.