His Streets, Not Mine preview
Peaches didn’t find out right away.
At first it was little things.
The nausea that hit her in the mornings.
The exhaustion that made her sit down halfway through getting dressed.
The way certain smells made her stomach turn.
She blamed stress.
The stalker.
The missions.
The constant looking over her shoulder.
Until one night she stared at the test in her bathroom, hands shaking.
Positive.
Her breath left her chest in a sharp gasp.
Pregnant.
And there was only one person it could be.
⸻
The moment with Priest replayed in her mind like a sin she couldn’t erase.
The night they had both been on edge.
The danger.
The adrenaline.
The way he had pulled her close just to “make sure she was okay.”
One kiss turned into another.
Fear turned into need.
Loneliness turned into comfort.
And comfort turned into something they couldn’t take back.
⸻
Meanwhile… someone had seen.
One of the dancers from the club — a girl who always watched everything — noticed Peaches slipping out the back door that night.
Noticed the black SUV already waiting.
Noticed Priest stepping out.
Noticed the way his hand rested on Peaches’ lower back like it belonged there.
The way she leaned into him.
The way they disappeared together.
By the next day, whispers were floating through the dressing rooms.
“Peaches messing with the priest.”
“Thought he was holy.”
“Guess not that holy.”
By the end of the week…
Everyone knew.
Girls at the club.
The street runners.
The people Peaches used to do missions for.
Even folks who didn’t know her personally knew her business.
And rumors always grew uglier than the truth.
“She been sleeping with him for money.”
“That’s how she stay protected.”
“She probably pregnant already.”
⸻
Peaches felt the shift instantly.
People staring too long.
Phones coming out when she walked past.
Whispers that stopped when she entered rooms.
Her reputation — the one she worked so hard to keep clean — was unraveling.
And Priest?
He heard the rumors too.
One of his guards finally said it out loud.
“Boss… folks saying you and Peaches got something going on.”
Silence filled the car.
Priest’s jaw tightened.
“Who started it?”
“Don’t matter. It’s everywhere now.”
And that’s when fear hit him.
Not for himself.
For her.
Because Peaches already had a stalker.
Now the whole city knew her name.
And if they found out she was pregnant?
She wouldn’t just be watched.
She’d be hunted.
⸻
And Peaches still hadn’t told Priest the truth yet.
That there was a life growing inside her.
That their one moment of weakness had changed everything.
That the gossip wasn’t just rumors anymore.
It was becoming reality.
The rumors didn’t just travel.
They mutated.
By the third day, Peaches wasn’t just “messing with Priest.”
Now she was:
— a liability
— a weakness
— leverage
And in the streets, leverage gets used.
⸻
It started subtle.
Her usual route home felt wrong.
That same gray car she’d noticed before?
Now it wasn’t hiding.
It followed her.
Slow.
Too slow.
When she sped up — it sped up.
When she turned — it turned.
Her heart slammed in her chest.
She pulled into a random gas station, jumped out the car.
The gray sedan rolled past… slowly.
The window was down just enough for her to see a man’s eyes.
Watching.
Smiling.
⸻
That night, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
You should’ve kept church business at church.
Her stomach dropped.
Another message came instantly.
Now everybody knows your secrets.
Then:
And I know about the baby too.
Peaches’ knees buckled.
She hadn’t told a soul.
Not even Priest.
⸻
The next morning, one of the dancers didn’t show up to work.
The same one who started the rumors.
By afternoon, word spread she’d been found unconscious behind the club.
Hospitalized.
Jaw broken.
Phone smashed.
Message received.
People stopped laughing about Peaches.
Now they were scared.
⸻
Priest pulled Peaches into the SUV the moment he heard.
His face was dark — the calm kind of anger that meant violence was close.
“This ain’t gossip no more,” he said quietly.
“Somebody’s moving pieces.”
She whispered, “He knows about the baby.”
The car went silent.
Priest slowly turned to her.
“…what baby?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I’m pregnant.”
For a moment, he didn’t breathe.
Then his hand clenched into a fist.
“Who told you they knew?”
“Text messages.”
“Show me.”
The second he read them, his jaw tightened harder.
“This is your stalker,” he said.
“And now he’s using the rumors as cover.”
⸻
That night — it escalated.
Someone fired shots at the house Peaches was staying in.
Not to kill.
To warn.
Bullets shattered windows.
Drywall exploded.
Priest’s guards dragged her to the floor as glass rained down.
Outside, tires screeched.
Gone.
Just like that.
⸻
Hours later, a video hit Peaches’ phone.
It was filmed from across the street earlier that day.
Her walking into a store.
Zoomed in on her stomach.
A caption typed across the screen:
Protecting you won’t save you.
And neither will the priest.
Then another message:
Next one won’t miss.
⸻
Now Peaches isn’t just being watched.
She’s being hunted.
And whoever it is:
• knows her movements
• knows about Priest
• knows about the baby
• and isn’t scared of his power
Which means this stalker isn’t some random creep anymore.
This is someone connected.
Someone organized.
Someone ready to spill blood.
Reading the preview of "His Streets, Not Mine" really highlights how deeply the author captures the intense emotional and physical challenges faced by Peaches. The slow buildup of her pregnancy realization—starting with nausea and exhaustion—felt so real and relatable. I’ve seen in real life how stress and fear can mask such big truths, making the eventual revelation both shocking and inevitable. What stands out to me is not only the suspense around the stalker and Peaches' vulnerability but also how rumors in tight-knit communities can escalate quickly and dangerously. It's like watching a wildfire spread, turning whispers into threats. The way Peaches’ reputation unravels and the constant watching and hunting add a layer of anxiety that many might not expect in a typical romance or crime story. I also appreciate the portrayal of difficult relationships complicated by power dynamics—like Peaches and Priest’s moment of weakness that changes everything. It reminds me of how personal connections can be both a source of comfort and vulnerability, especially when external threats loom large. The stalking and escalating threats peppered with texts hinting knowledge about the baby and secrets create a chilling atmosphere. It’s a haunting reminder of how someone’s life can be infiltrated, turning fear into a daily reality. The security and protection angle with Priest’s character adds complexity—power isn’t always a guarantee of safety, which is a critical and timely theme. Overall, this preview draws readers into a raw and dangerous world while presenting very human emotions and struggles—fear, love, loneliness, and courage. It’s easy to imagine how the story could unfold, making anyone reading eager to find out what happens next while reflecting on the realities some people face with privacy, trust, and survival in risky environments.