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The fear. The panic. The need to save her.

And when I found her struggling, scared, barely able to breathe?

I wanted to fight off her demons and protect her with my life.

What the fuck is going on?

I splash cold water on my face in the bathroom of my stateroom. They put me in the largest Rose signature suite on deck ten. Clearly, the event planner thought I should have the best accommodations on the ship, which, naturally, is on the Rose floor decks. She probably thought I’d appreciate being next to the kink rooms and sex clubs I frequented before.

My reputation precedes me.

I stare at my reflection after wiping my face. My skin is tanner than before, but can’t hide the darkening shadows under my eyes. The hollows in my cheeks are more prominent. I doubt the scruff on my jaw can camouflage them for much longer.

Deep down, I hoped by leaving New York City and helping Bree escape, I’d somehow fix myself.

Maybe I’d be able to sleep without nightmares, or stop having these sporadic blackouts where I’d lose chunks of time.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, I jolted awake in the middle of the night without fail. Some nights I’d find myself in bed. Other nights I’d be elsewhere in my suite, with no recollection of how I got there or what I’d done. But the evidence was always there: beer bottles scattered across the floor one night, a half-cooked meal on the stove another night.

Some nights, I’d stare at nothingness, my heart racing, wondering if this was it for the rest of my life, and perhaps, if I should just let go.

What if nothing changes after this trip? What if I’m still trapped in this half-life?

My family doesn’t need the jokester anymore. Everyone else has found peace. Dad’s retired in the Hamptons, my siblings are in love, building lives that mean something.

What reason would I have to keep going then?

But lately, there’s been a spark in the darkness, that singular star glowing, refusing to yield to the night sky.

Olivia.

When I couldn’t sleep, I’d think of her.

How, in her presence, I’d get this electrifying energy pulsing through my veins, my calamitous emotions like live wires, sparking everywhere, threatening to electrocute everything in the vicinity.

It was nirvana—a new addiction. A defibrillator to the dying heart.

No one had ever impacted me this way before her.

My mind filled with scenarios of me kissing her, sucking out the venom of her sadness. I wanted to mark her fair skin with my teeth and unsheathe her claws so she could draw blood. Our demons would face each other and see who remained standing at the end.

Find her. Force her into my madness. You won’t be alone anymore.

I’d fist my cock and fight the impulse to tug—once, twice, because that was all it’d take—to release the pent-up pressure building inside me.

But I wouldn’t, because that’s my punishment for being a depraved bastard.

Do I interrupt her dreams at night?

I chuckle and shake my head.

“You’re losing it, Rex,” I mutter. “Having an entire conversation with yourself in your head. That’s a new low.”

I can never give Olivia what she deserves—a good, mentally stable man with no demons, no blackouts, no overreliance on pills.

What am I even thinking?I don’t do relationships. Shit, the lack of sleep is driving me out of my mind.