There was nothing quite like having that certain itch to watch over your shoulder. A waiting time bomb that could go off at any random minute because he could find me. He, the man that ruined my life with his charming smiles and thoughtful gifts. Bently Baker, the most known popstar in recent years, was the misery of my existence. To the world, he was a breath of fresh air. To me, he was the cinching anxiety swarming my lungs. After two years of his abuse, I finally worked up the nerve to escape. Going somewhere remote would be my best option to lay low and let him forget me. Deep down, I knew he’d never stop looking for me because his egotistical urge to win was too great. His obsession with controlling me would lead as his general on this path of war, so I’d have to live a simple life with few people around me to know who stood in my shadow. Small towns were rumored for romance, but I vowed to steer clear of that forever… until a lost little girl leads me to three men who make my heart thrum a little faster than I’d like. With the promise of food and shelter in exchange for nannying, how could I refuse when I didn’t have a dollar to my name? WARNING: This story contains domestic violence and PTSD in the present. If you are triggered by descriptive DV scenes but would still like to read Gemma’s journey, skip chapter two. Her journey will have flashbacks and triggers throughout the book.

An endless loop played inside of my mind, but it wasn’t from the haunting music Bently forced me to hear. This one consisted of the troubling outcome dealing with my future. Anxiety crippled those of us who were trying to find a healthy path after such a toxic and damaging past. How was I supposed to figure out how to walk this journey for healing when I carried his child? With that positive pregnancy test hanging over my head, it felt like a new ticking time bomb over my head. With too much on my plate, there was more that piled up. But those things didn’t feel so dooming, not when it involved the touch of the three men who saw me as more than just a runaway with PTSD. My heart began strumming more than one string, and it never wanted to stop living in the harmony they provided. But no past could stay buried forever, not with how sick the man that was hunting me down. What would happen when the division between my past and present collided? I was about to find out whether I liked it or not.