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When I pulled into the driveway and saw Josh's car, a cold wave of dread washed over me.

"I thought he left..." I muttered under my breath, feeling a knot of tension settle in my stomach.

I parked in the garage and sat for a moment, gathering myself. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. But something in the air felt off, like I was walking into a trap. Quietly, I closed the garage door and stepped inside. I could hear the low hum of the TV; he was watching the news.

As I slowly walked toward the living room, the sound of the TV grew louder, and then I saw him. Josh was on the sofa, casually wiping down what looked like at least ten guns spread across the coffee table in front of him. I froze, my heart pounding as his eyes met mine.

"What's up, baby?" he said, his tone calm, almost casual.

"Hey." I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I took in the scene. The guns gleamed under the light, each one polished and lined up as if they were on display.

"What are you doing?" I asked, unable to keep the fear out of my voice.

He didn't look up, continuing to wipe one down with a cloth. "What does it look like?" he replied coolly. "Where've you been?"

"I told you where I was." I answered, the tension in my voice rising.

He didn't acknowledge my response, just kept working, his movements meticulous and unsettling.

"Why did you go to Joe's house?" he asked, finally looking up, his gaze sharp and steady. The question blindsided me.

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I... I was looking for you." I managed, recalling what I'd told him over the phone.

His silence made the room feel smaller, like the walls were closing in. Then, with a slight nod of his head, he motioned to the spot next to him. "Come sit down."

"I'd rather not." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. His expression shifted, a flicker of something dark passing over his face. "Not until you get rid of all those guns."

He chuckled, the sound low and humorless. "Baby, they don't just go off. They're safe."

"Josh, you know how I feel about guns. Do you remember what happened last time? I almost shot you. Just... Please, put them away. I can't even look at them without thinking about that night."

After a pause, he nodded and started putting them into cases, each one snapping shut with a heavy, final click. It took him a few moments, but once they were all locked up, he turned back to me.

"Why'd you have them all out like that?" I asked, still shaken.

"Just cleaning them." he replied nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just had a small armory sprawled across the coffee table. Then his tone shifted, growing more serious. "We need to talk."

I sighed, feeling the weight of his words settling over me. "It seems like you need to talk to me a lot lately." I said, sitting down beside him, wary but curious.

He finished putting the last case aside and turned toward me, taking my hand in his. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was intense, like he was searching for something in my expression.

"I feel I'm losing you, and I don't want that."

I felt the ache that had been building inside me. I let out a deep sigh, choosing my words carefully. "Josh....you are." I admitted, feeling a pang of sadness and a twinge of fear at saying it out loud. "I won't lie to you about that. You scare me sometimes. You're unpredictable. I don't know what you're going to do or say, and that has me on edge constantly. I feel like I don't even know you anymore."

He frowned, leaning closer, almost pleading. "Baby, it's me. You know exactly who I am."

I shook my head, looking away for a second, gathering the courage to keep going. "...Honestly, I don't know anymore, Josh. The person I fell in love with wouldn't make me feel anything but safe, but right now, that's not what I feel. Ever since we came back here, things have changed. You've changed. I've changed. And it's unsettling. I tried to have an honest conversation with you about the baby, and instead of talking it through, you completely lost it on me. And since then... you haven't been the same."

Josh's eyes held a storm of emotions—confusion, anger, hurt—and for a brief moment, I thought I saw the man I used to know, the one who would have done anything to protect me, not make me feel this way. But as quickly as that glimmer appeared, it faded, replaced by a colder, distant expression.

"I just... I don't understand why you're feeling this way. Everything I'm doing, it's for us and you wanna kill my baby, Hazel. What the fuck?"

"I know you think that, but I need you to see how it's affecting me." I replied, my voice soft but firm. "All these decisions, all this intensity, it's overwhelming. I feel like I don't have a voice anymore, like I'm being swept along in a life that's supposed to be ours but feels more and more like it's yours. I need to feel like we're in this together. Right now, it feels like I'm here for you, and you've lost sight of us."

He looked down, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his shirt, as if struggling to find the right words. "I don't mean to make you feel that way. I just... I can't lose you. I don't know how to do this without you."

I reached out, my hand hovering over his arm before resting on it gently. "But you told me it was up to me." I reminded him. "The Josh I knew before all this would have kept that promise, because he cared about my wellbeing, about what I wanted and what made me happy. But now... I don't know who this Josh is. This version of you scares me. You seem cold, like you're only focused on yourself, and you don't even realize how uneasy you make me feel."

He just looked at me, his expression torn, but he didn't say a word. And in that silence, again, I could see my baby in there—the one I fell in love with, the one I wanted to believe was still there. But as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. He had a hardened look that made my heart sink.

"Why did you let Joe touch you like that, huh? I saw you down in his office, letting him get close. I stood there for a few seconds, watching, and you didn't do anything to stop him. You just let it happen."

The accusation hit me like a slap, and I felt my body tense, the heat rising to my cheeks. "What am I supposed to do Josh? He's so much bigger than me. WHAT COULD I DO?" I yelled at him. "YOU'RE SO PRESSED ABOUT HIM BUT YOU'RE NOT WORRIED ABOUT ME AND WHAT I WANT. GET THE FUCK OVER IT!"

I stood up, desperate to put distance between us, to leave before things got worse. But before I could take more than a step, his hand shot out, grabbing my arm, pulling me back.

"GET OVER WHAT?" he yelled, his grip tight, his eyes with an intensity that made my heart race.

"It's obvious you're jealous of him because he's more important to your father than you are."

I felt his grip tighten on my arms, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning with a fury I'd never seen before. It was as if my words had cut deeper than anything I'd said before, hitting a nerve I hadn't realized was so raw.

"Hazel...." He whispered in a warning tone. His voice was calm but laced with an edge that sent a shiver down my spine. "Say one more thing about my father." He took a step closer, pressing me back until I could feel the cold wall behind me. My heart pounded as he looked me up and down, his gaze sharp, searching for any sign of betrayal. "You've been talking to Joe about me?"

"No—." I managed, my voice barely above a whisper, but he only narrowed his eyes further, reading every flicker of emotion on my face.

"Don't lie to me." he said, his voice dropping lower, filled with a chilling steadiness that left me frozen in place. He took a step forward, his hands sliding from my arms to hold me by my shoulders, his grip firm.

"Are you two talking about me?"

"Josh, let me go."!I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper as his grip tightened around my arms, sending sharp pangs up to my shoulders. "Jey, that hurts." I whispered again, my voice trembling, but he didn't seem to hear—or care. Panic gripped me as I felt his fingers dig deeper, grounding me in place, refusing to let go.

He held me there, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that felt almost otherworldly, his breathing heavy and labored. I could feel my heart pounding, each beat echoing the dread tightening in my stomach. For a moment, he seemed lost, unreachable, as though he couldn't recognize the fear in my eyes or the way I flinched under his hold.

Then, finally, he released my arms, only to grab the front of my shirt, his fist tightening around the fabric just below my neck to keep me from moving. I felt the pull and then a snap as my necklace broke, the thin chain giving way under his grip. I watched as it fell to the floor.

"You keep your fucking mouth shut about me. If I find out you telling him my business...." His voice was low, menacing, each word heavy with unspoken threats. He shook his head slowly, eyes narrowing as he let go of me, stepping back with a look that sent a chill down my spine. "You'll regret it."

I felt a surge of anger flood through me, my body almost vibrating with it. How dare he put his hands on me again.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about!" I shouted, my voice shaking with rage. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I glared at him, my words coming out in a furious rush. "You say you want me to be with you, but then you act like this!" My voice cracked, and I turned away, stepping away from him, before I said something even more explosive.

I took a deep breath, the heat of anger still simmering in my chest, and turned back to face him. "You need to get yourself together, Josh. Because if you don't—I WILL leave you. And this time, it won't be temporary."

I watched as he walked over to the sofa, practically dismissing everything I'd just said with a smug, indifferent look. "Yeah, we'll see." he said, casually sitting down as if none of it mattered—as if this was some kind of game.

The way he looked at me, almost daring me to make a move, sent a fresh wave of anger through me. He was acting like this was all a joke, like I didn't have it in me to actually leave.

"Yeah, we'll see." He said walking over to the sofa and taking a seat. He thinks this is a joke, like I won't really leave him again. I know he won't let it happen but I can definitely try.

"That—what you just did—is unacceptable." I said, my voice shaking with both anger and hurt.

He scoffed, leaning back on the sofa, crossing his arms. "You're making me act like this." he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I felt a wave of frustration hit me. "You really believe that, don't you?" I replied, my voice steady, with disbelief. "You think it's my fault that you're choosing to act this way?"

He just looked at me, his expression unreadable, as if he didn't see what was so wrong about his behavior.
I paced in the kitchen, my anger burning through me, every step adding fuel to the fire. "This is who you are." I spat, barely keeping my voice steady. "Your wife even warned me, and I was too damn stupid to believe her because I hung onto every word you said."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it was useless. The reality of everything was crashing down on me—the lies, the promises, the grip he had over me. I should have left him the moment I found out he was married, the moment I saw those red flags. But I didn't. I fell for every empty promise, every lie, all because I thought I loved him. And this? This is what I get for trusting him.

"I'M HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, AND YOU KEEP GRABBING ON ME!" The words burst out, raw and furious, as I grabbed a glass and hurled it toward him. He dodged, the glass shattering against the wall, and his calm, smug expression only fueled my anger.
"You better chill," he warned, still seated on the sofa, completely unfazed.

That only made me angrier. I needed him to feel something, to see the damage he'd done. I grabbed a plate from the sink, then another glass, flinging them at him one after the other. Each time, he dodged, and each time, I felt my frustration rising.

"I'M SICK OF YOUR SHIT!" I screamed, my voice breaking with rage.

In that moment, I had never felt this much fury toward anyone. I had never tried to hurt someone out of sheer frustration and anger, but with Josh, it was different. He was driving me to a place I didn't even recognize, and I knew I couldn't stay here. I couldn't live my life like this, in this toxic cycle. I had to find a way to get away from him—for good.

Josh turned and gave me a hard, cold stare. "Now clean that shit up." he said, his voice low and dismissive. He stood, brushed himself off without a second glance, and walked out of the house, leaving the door swinging shut behind him.

I stood there in disbelief. His words echoed in my mind, each one leaving a sting. He'd left me alone in the wreckage, like I was nothing more than a mess he didn't want to deal with.

As the silence settled over me, I felt a tear slide down my cheek, the weight of everything sinking deeper.

"What the hell is happening?" I whispered aloud, my voice barely reaching the empty room. It was like my life had spun off course, and I was just scrambling to hold on.

Before I could pull myself together, my phone buzzed, cutting through the quiet. I walked over to my purse, taking it out, and saw Joe's name on the screen. A strange shiver ran down my spine. It was like he always knew when something was wrong, like he was tuned in to some invisible signal that alerted him when I needed someone, or maybe when he saw an opportunity to reach out. Either way, it felt unsettling.

Joe: How's your mom?

I stared at the message, confused. Why was he asking about my mom? What did he even care? Joe always seemed to toe the line between genuine concern and ulterior motives, and I couldn't quite tell which one this was.

Me: How can I help you?

Joe: Just checking in. You mentioned you were going to your mom's. How is she? Are you back home?

I shook my head. Why did he need to know where I was or how my mom was? I'd kept things strictly business with him, and I didn't see a reason to let him into my personal life. But still, part of me wondered if he'd sense something, or if maybe he somehow already knew what I was dealing with.

Me: I'm home.

Joe: Is Jey there?

Me: No. He just left.

Joe: Everything okay with that?

His question lingered on the screen, a little too perceptive for my comfort. I hesitated, the urge to unload everything battling with the need to keep him at arm's length. He'd want to know if Jey had done anything. And right now, maybe I wanted him to know, too.

Me: Yeah

Joe: Just yeah?

Me: Yup.

Joe: Was he cool?

The way he asked made me feel like he already knew, like he'd been waiting for this moment. I took a deep breath, feeling the flood of emotions pressing down on me, and before I could stop myself, I started typing.

Me: He grabbed me again. It got intense. Wouldn't let go.

I hit send and waited, my heart pounding. The three dots appeared and disappeared a few times as if he was deciding how to respond.

"Oh, God! Please don't say anything." I said to myself then I texted him.

Me: Don't say anything.

I set my phone down. Sighing, I picked up the broom and began sweeping up the glass, then my phone rang. Joe's name flashed across the screen.

I hesitated, but finally picked up. "Hello?"

"Tell me exactly what happened." he said, his voice deep, steady, and with an edge.

"Exactly what I said. But he seemed upset with me but he didn't say anything. It was like he was holding it in but then he couldn't anymore and he blew up at me."
Joe was silent for a second before he spoke, his tone calm but forceful. "Why don't you want me to handle this? I can fix this, Hazel."

"I don't want him to know I'm talking to you like this. That's why he blew up at me. He thinks I'm talking to you anyway. I told you to keep it to yourself. If things escalate further, then we'll talk, but right now, I'm handling it."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke, his voice lower, almost urgent. "You think you have it under control, but once he crosses a certain line, it'll be too late."

"Please, just leave it alone for now." I whispered, feeling the plea fall from my lips before I could stop it.

Another pause. "...I don't want him to hurt you more than he already does..." he finally said, his voice filled with a softness I hadn't expected or even thought he was capable of.

"Joe, it's fine. You don't have to act like you care about me."

His voice softened. "But I do."

His response stopped me in my tracks. I hadn't expected that. There was a sincerity in his voice that I wasn't prepared for, and it threw me off balance.

"Joe..." I began, unsure how to respond. "We both know this isn't... I mean, this isn't more than just some twisted arrangement."

"Maybe that's how it started..." he said, his tone still soft, almost vulnerable. "But I wouldn't be calling you if I didn't care. You don't have to believe me, but it's the truth."

"You barely know me." My voice wavered slightly, but I held firm, staring at the phone like Joe could see my every thought through the connection. "You're only acting like this because you want to fuck me. You're not fooling anyone."

"That's not true." Joe said quickly, his voice calm but carrying an edge, like he was trying to steady himself.

"Yes, it is." I shot back. "I know you're using me to get what you want. You've made that clear—you said so yourself."

He hesitated, and I could hear him take a deep breath before responding. "No, I'm not. That was before, Hazel. I'm trying to gain your trust because I genuinely want to help you." His voice dropped lower, more serious. "Jey is—"

"Just stop." I interrupted, cutting him off before he could finish. I couldn't hear his reasoning right now. "You know what? Just forget I even said anything. I'm done talking about this. I've just now realized that I'm by myself in this."

The words hit me harder than I expected as soon as they left my mouth. I wasn't just saying them to him—I was admitting them to myself. A thick silence followed, and for a moment, I wondered if he'd hung up.

"Hazel..." His voice was softer now, almost pleading. "You're not alone in this."

"Yes, I am!" I snapped, my voice cracking. "Noone else is going to deal with the fallout of my choices but me. You keep saying you want to help, but you can't. You just want control, just like him."

"That's not fair." Joe said, his voice tightening with frustration. "I'm not Jey. I'm not here to control you. I'm here because I see what's happening, and I know you need help—even if you won't admit it. I'm here to help. Do you want me to come over there if he comes back?"

"No, Joe. Just—leave it alone." I ended the call.

Joe's words echoed in my mind even after I'd hung up. I know you need help—even if you won't admit it. The frustration in his voice, that almost desperate tone, had rattled something inside me. But I didn't want him to see that. I didn't want anyone to see it.

My phone rang again, buzzing insistently in my hand. Joe. I stared at the screen, feeling a surge of anger rise up from somewhere deep. I ignored it and tossed my phone back into my purse.

I looked around the room, and my eyes landed on the mess. The broken glass I'd thrown in anger. The whole scene seemed surreal now. I felt the ache in my shoulders from tensing up, from trying to keep everything inside until I couldn't anymore. It hit me all at once—the frustration, the exhaustion, the fear. I couldn't handle cleaning up that mess right now. I needed to get out.

"Fuck it." I muttered to myself. "I'm not cleaning that up."

I grabbed my purse and my phone and headed upstairs, hoping the silence and solitude of my room might somehow calm the storm raging in my chest. But even as I closed the door behind me, I could feel the weight of everything pressing down harder, suffocatingly close.

I took a long shower, trying to come up with something to try to get myself out of this. I know if I tried to leave Josh, he would find me. I really felt the only person that could help was Joe. He could keep Josh in line, he could make it happen, and if he was really serious about getting me out of all of this, he could be the one to do it. I hated to admit but I needed Joe, even if he did look at me like a piece of meat.

After my shower, I put on pajamas and went to bed.
A few hours later, I was startled awake by the soft, unwelcome feeling of Josh's lips brushing against my shoulder. My body stiffened, my heart racing. I felt irritation and unease. I shifted away from him, pulling the blanket up around me as a barrier.

"Josh..." I murmured, my voice low and firm. "Don't.
He didn't seem to care or even acknowledge my resistance. Instead, he moved closer, his hand trailing over my arm. "Come on, baby." he said softly, his tone smooth but insistent. "Let's not fight anymore. I'm sorry." he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. Before I could respond, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if holding on to me was the only thing grounding him.

"I love you so much." he murmured, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm just scared to lose you, and it's making me do things I never do. I'm so sorry, baby."
I froze, caught between his words and the reality of everything that had happened. His apology felt sincere, but it didn't erase the fear or the anger simmering beneath the surface. I wanted to believe him, to trust that the man I fell in love with was still there, but the weight of everything made it hard to find the words.

I turned onto my back and finally looked at him. The room was dark, the faint light from the hallway spilling through the open door and casting soft shadows across his face. His features were illuminated just enough for me to see the tension in his jaw and the glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, stretching between us like a chasm I wasn't sure we could cross. His hand lingered on my arm, hesitant now, as if he was waiting for a signal from me, something to let him know if his apology had reached me.

"I'm sorry, too." I said. I could only picture my baby looking back at me even though I couldn't see his facial features. I visualized him looking back at me with soft eyes, pleading for my forgiveness.

"I love you, baby." he whispered, his voice raw as he laid his head on my chest, his breath warm against my skin. His arms wrapped around me tightly, as if he was afraid I might slip away.

My heart ached with the conflicting emotions swirling inside me—love, fear, frustration, and a longing for the version of us that didn't feel so broken. Despite everything, a part of me still wanted to hold on, to believe that we could fix this.

"I love you, too." I finally whispered back, my voice shaky but sincere as I rested my hand on his head, my fingers running gently through his hair. He exhaled deeply, his body relaxing slightly against mine as if my words were the reassurance he needed.

I held him close, feeling his heartbeat against mine. For a brief moment, the chaos between us quieted, replaced by the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, things could get better. But even as I held him, a small part of me couldn't ignore the lingering doubt whispering in the back of my mind.

Not long after falling asleep, I felt my shorts sliding down my legs and it woke me up.

I could see Josh's silhouette up on his knees between my legs. He pulled them completely off and laid down between my legs. He hooked his arms under my hips and started licking my pussy.

"What are you doing?" I asked, closing my legs on his head.

He poked his head up. "Come on, baby. Let me get some." He said.

I pushed his head away from me and sat up. "I'm not having sex with you."

"Why?" He asked

"Because I don't want to."

"You fucking somebody else?"

"What? No." I said, appalled at his comment. "I just don't want to have sex with you."

"Baby, I said sorry."

"And I said I'm sorry, too, but that doesn't mean I wanna fuck you." I said.

He got out of bed. "I'm trying to help us, trying to make up with you, but you keep playing with me."

"Sex isn't going to fix what's broken between us. What will help is you acting like you actually care about what's happening to me—not just what you want." I got out of bed, found my underwear and pajama bottoms and put them back on.

"Now if I take that shit then you gonna wanna leave me. So I'm asking for it." He said.

"NOO!" I yelled. "Get the fuck out of my room." I get back in bed.

"Oh, you gon kick me out?" He looked at me surprised.

I rolled over and turned my back to him. "Goodbye, Joshua. I can't do this shit with you. Waking me up out of my damn sleep." I fussed.

"....Hazel?" I didn't say anything. "Aight...whatever." He then left the bedroom.

This shit is beginning to get ridiculous. It's up and down, serious and not serious, and just flat out dumb sometimes. Like, sometimes I feel like he can't be seriously upset and then other times he's legit upset and I just be so confused and my head is spinning. I don't know what the fuck to think sometimes. I said he was unpredictable before, but it's more unpredictable than I thought and I didn't think it could get any worse.

I snatched my phone off of the nightstand and texted Joe.

Me: I need you to come over here tomorrow. We need to talk about what you're going to do about this. Things are getting worse.

I waited for him to respond for a few minutes but he never did. It was late so that's probably why. I put my phone back on the nightstand and laid down.

I was so mad that shit happened, and where the fuck is Jon in all of this unpredictable-ness? He's the main one who's always keeping his brother and check and in the last few days he's been nowhere to be found.
I grabbed my phone off the bed and quickly typed out a text, my fingers trembling with frustration.

Me: Call me.

I hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear. Seconds felt like hours, and my anger bubbled over with each passing moment.
Finally, my phone buzzed, and Jon's name lit up the screen.

"Hello?" I answered.

"What's wrong?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"What's wrong? Where the hell have you been?" I snapped. "I haven't seen or heard from you since the family meeting."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "It's some shit going on that's got me keeping my distance."

"Keeping your distance? From me?" My voice rose with disbelief.

There was a brief pause before he said. "...Joe's got me working."

"Working on what? They told you to keep your distance from me, didn't they?"

"Hazel, you know I fuck with you." he started, but his tone already sounded defeated. "But without saying too much, there's been an agreement between Jey and Joe. Joe is supposed to be protecting you, technically from the family, but I know it's actually from Jey—even though Jey doesn't know that. Joe fed Jey a story about the family wanting to get you out of the picture just to get him to agree to the arrangement. That's the only reason Jey went along with it."

"I already knew some of that." I said, my voice sharp. "What I want to know is why you aren't doing anything."

Jon went quiet. The pause stretched on so long I thought he might have hung up. Finally, he sighed again. "They told me to stay away, Hazel. Not to get involved, not to say anything. This is already too much. If I cross them, I'll have BOTH of them on my back."

"And you're just going to listen to him? Jon, he's put his hands on me multiple times. I need you to do something. I can't leave—he won't let me. I told him I didn't want this baby, and he threatened to lock me up until I had it. What else does he have to do for you to step in?"

Another heavy silence followed. "... I hear you, Hazel, I swear I do. But if I make the wrong move, it's not just me who's at risk. They'll come after everyone I care about, too." he said, his voice low.

"What happened to you saying I could call you if I needed you?"

"I'm still here." he said, but it sounded hollow. "I just... I can't get involved in this. I need you and Jey to work it out."

"So you're not concerned about me at all." My voice was trembling, caught between anger and despair.

"I am concerned." he said quickly, but then hesitated. "I just don't know what I can do. Dwayne's been watching me."

Dwayne is on Joe's side. Joe has him watching the twins and probably everyone else. See this is why I need Joe. Joe controls everything and if it isn't Joe, it's Dwayne.

I let out a bitter laugh. "I see how it is. I'm on my own. Thanks for absolutely nothing, brother." I hung up before he could respond.

I stared at my phone for a moment, my chest heaving with anger. "Fine." I muttered to myself. "If Joe's supposed to be protecting me, then that's what he's going to do."

I hated that I had to rely on Joe. Every time I talked to him, I felt like I was walking into another trap. But what choice did I have? He was the only one who could make Jey stop. And if I didn't do something now, it was only going to get worse.

I opened my messages and typed out a text to Joe for a second time.

Me: I can't do this anymore. Things are getting worse, and he's not stopping. You need to step in now.

This had to end. One way or another, I needed to step things up. And if Joe was my only option, then I had to use him. Even if it meant stepping deeper into this mess.

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Next chapter 12/14.