A Secret Vow: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance by Zoey Parker

alarm you or anything…”
     
    I squint my eyes at him. Something’s up. “What’s the deal?”
     
    “You didn’t hear this from me, okay? But some of the guys have mentioned that you might be involved with this shit with Grady.”
     
    I decide to play dumb. It’s better to know what people are saying than to be blissfully ignorant. “How so?”
     
    “I’m not saying it was you for sure, don’t get me wrong. But some people said they saw you taking off with his wife after the wedding. She hasn’t been seen since.”
     
    It’s even harder to keep my face under wraps. Vince is a good friend, and I know he’s just looking out for me. But I need to come up with a plan, and quickly, before something happens that I can’t control.
     
    I settle my hand on Vince’s shoulder. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, man.” I hate lying to him, but I don’t have a choice right now. I need to buy myself some time. “It’s no secret that I’m not Grady’s biggest fan, but it isn’t my kind of move to steal a chick away from her husband on their wedding day.”
     
    Vince nods. I can tell he’s relieved.
     
    “Besides,” I say, “Grady’s a sack of shit. Who’s to say she didn’t run away from him on her own?”
     
    Vince laughs. “Well, whoever took her away, they better be ready for war. Grady Freeman is one angry son of a bitch.”
     
    I grit my teeth. If that motherfucker lays one hand on Kendra, it’ll be the last thing he ever does.

Chapter 5
    Kendra
     
    How the hell did I end up in this situation?
     
    I’m pacing back and forth in Mortar’s empty house, trying to get a grip on the whirlwind sequence of events that has taken me from a normal, if abusive, night out with Grady, to being locked inside a stranger’s home, deciding whether or not to accept his protection in exchange for letting him impregnate me.
     
    Step by step, everything made sense when I was deciding, but now that I’m looking at the big picture, I still can barely wrap my head around the circumstances. One minute, I’m strapped down on a one-way train to a life of misery. The next, I’m at the entrance of a rabbit hole that leads to God only knows where.
     
    This is crazy. I try the words out loud, “This is crazy.” For some reason, hearing my own voice speak my thoughts help make them clearer.
     
    “I can’t take the deal.” There, now I’ve said it. It’s out there and spoken and final and there’s no going back.
     
    Or is there? Really, what are my other options? I’ve got a murderously angry husband lurking around the city ready to kill me for running from him. He’s a cop who can do anything he wants and get away with it. I know what he’s capable of; I’ve seen it.
     
    On the other hand, I’ve got this lunatic outlaw babbling crazy ideas about using me to breed his children. It’s true that he made me feel things in bed that I’ve never even come close to experiencing before, but since when is that enough to serve as the basis for starting a family? That’s not how this kind of thing works. Saying yes to Mortar would be insane.
     
    I’m at a fork in the road, and both options feel impossible.
     
    I stalk around the house, opening drawers, peeking in closets, anything to distract myself from the dilemma at hand. As much as I think Mortar is out of his mind, there’s a part of me that has an insatiable curiosity about him. It feels strange to be here, amongst his things, running my hands over his clothes and watching silly daytime talk shows on his television. In its own way, it feels like I’m getting to know him, even though he isn’t here.
     
    After hours of impatient waiting, I would’ve thought that the sound of the key in the door would be like manna from heaven. I can’t deny that part of me—namely, the part between my legs—is excited that Mortar is home. But the sense of dread that his return inspires in me is more pressing right now. As much as I want to feel his lips