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“And you are?” I looked up at the man that had come up next to Adam. Adam stiffened and arched his shoulders back, but he kept his hand wrapped around my elbow in a possessive—or maybe protective—way.
“Donovan Hannigan. Pleased to meet you, Miss Drake.”
Donovan? Oh God. Oh God.
“She was just leaving,” Adam grumbled.
“Why in such a hurry? Stay for a while and watch Adam fight. It’s a thing of beauty,” Donovan said with a grin.
“It’s late, and she needs to go.” Adam hadn’t given me time to think, let alone respond. “Come on, Anna.” He gently pulled at my elbow, nodding toward the door.
“Goodbye, Miss Drake,” Donovan said as I allowed Adam to guide me away.
The cold air slapped me in the face, but it was what I needed to snap out of panic mode. “That was him?” I croaked once we were safely on the sidewalk.
Adam released his grip and rubbed his thin gloved hands down his face. Jeez. He would freeze out here without a shirt on. Of course, he didn’t seem the least bit affected. What the hell?
“Adam . . .”
“This was a stupid idea, coming here. Not safe at all.” He crossed his arms, which made me feel a little better. Maybe his biceps would keep him warm.
“I know, but I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left your house Sunday. I’m worried about the fight. I know you’ll win, but I’m afraid of what happens after. I’m afraid you may not be able to stop fighting . . . or that you might not want to.”
There, I’d said it.
I waited impatiently for him to reassure me, but he didn’t speak. He only stared at me with parted lips.
“Adam, please,” I said, hating the silence.
He raised his arm out in front of me and pointed at something or someone inside the gym. “You see that guy in the blue shirt? Well, he’s Garda. Police. And the guy he’s wrestling is a politician’s son.” He lowered his arm and stared down at the cobblestone pavement.
“What are you trying to say? What’s your point?”
“Donovan’s protected.”
“You were able to get away from him before.”
“Things are different,” he rasped.
“Then you’ll have to do it differently,” I insisted. “You have to get out of this. I’m so afraid that if you step into that ring on Saturday, I’ll lose you. I said I trusted you, but I—”
“You shouldn’t trust me. I tried to tell you that.” When he looked at me, his eyes were blank, his face an unreadable mask.
I didn’t recognize the hollow eyes looking back at me.
“You can’t have both, remember?” I pointed to the tattoo on the inside of his forearm. “Did you lie to me Sunday?” I took a step back, my body shaking. “Did you never plan to find a way out?” I shook my head. “You want to give up everything just to do that bastard’s bidding?” I yelled, my own voice surprising me as I pointed to the gym.
Adam bent his head forward and shoved his hands in his sweat pockets.
“Say something. Please.” I reached for his arm, scared now that he was already gone. Hadn’t our reconciliation last weekend meant anything? It was starting to feel like a sick joke. “Tell me I’m wrong,” I begged, my eyes welling with tears.
His body was like steel—he didn’t budge an inch.
“Adam,” I cried.
“I have to fight, Anna,” he finally said, his voice raw.
“But you don’t.”
