Shock to rage to something beyond either.
His grip on my wrist turns punishing before Regnor's fingers tighten in warning.
"You're fucking him?" Dylan's voice rises. "You cheating whore, you're fucking this criminal?"
"Watch your mouth," Regnor warns, but I can feel the tension in him.
The violence barely leashed.
People are starting to stare.
A mother hurries her children past.
A stock boy peers around the endcap.
"She's pregnant with my kid!" Dylan snarls.
"No," Regnor says simply. "She's pregnant withmine. Has been for months. That's why she left you. Couldn't keep pretending when she had my baby growing inside her."
"Bullshit. She wouldn't?—"
"Wouldn't what? Choose a real man over an abusive piece of shit?" Regnor's voice stays level, but there's death in his eyes. "Choose someone who protects her instead of hurts her? Choose someone who'll raise this baby with love instead of fists?"
"You don't know shit about us," Dylan spits. "About what she needs. She's mine?—"
"She's standing right here," I interrupt, finding my voice. "And she's not yours. Not anymore. Not ever again."
Dylan's attention snaps back to me. "You'll regret this. When he gets bored, when he tosses you aside like the trash you are, you'll come crawling back. And I'll make you beg?—"
"Try it," Regnor cuts him off. "Show up at her place. Call her again. Come anywhere near her or our baby. See what happens."
"You threatening me?" Dylan laughs, but it's ugly. "In front of all these witnesses? I know things about your club. About the raid last month. About what really happened to Marcus. One phone call and?—"
"Make it," Regnor challenges. "Make your calls. Tell whoever you want whatever you think you know. Won't change the fact that Everly's mine now. Won't bring back what you lost. Won't make that baby yours."
I watch Dylan's face cycle through emotions.
The moment he realizes he's lost control.
That his threats aren't landing.
That Regnor isn't backing down.
"This isn't over," he says finally, releasing my wrist with a shove that makes me stumble.
Regnor steadies me, pulling me against his side.
"Yeah, it is," he says. "You come near her again, threaten her again, even think about her again, and they'll never find your body. That's not a threat, it's a promise."
Dylan's jaw works like he wants to say more.
But something in Regnor's expression must convince him because he backs away.
"Fucking whore," he spits. "Both of you deserve each other."
He storms off, leaving us standing in the cereal aisle with half the store staring.
"You okay?" Regnor asks quietly, turning me to face him. His hands frame my face, thumbs gentle on my cheeks. "Everly, baby, you're shaking."