Page 27 of Declan

Oh, shit.

Oh, hell.

I didn’t want this knowledge. I was already broken, I didn’t think I could take Declan’s pain, too. I wasn’t strong enough.

“There was a war going on. Two local drug lords fighting over territory. I knew it. I wanted us clear of the area, but Juliana had spent months putting together Violet’s birthday party. Her family, friends, all invited. Everything set and ready. Violet’s actual birthday fell on a Saturday and Juliana wanted to celebrate that day. Local reports were light but all intel said that the fighting had slowed. So I relented. Jesus fuck, I never should’ve given in. I should’ve held firm. Never should’ve agreed to have the party at a park. Sitting ducks, everyone milling about, laughing, no one paying a bit of fucking attention to anything other than my baby girl turning one. Violet was barely walking. A coupla steps here and there. Juliana and her parents were clapping and laughing with Violet walking between them. I didn’t know why, what made me look, but I fucking felt it. I knew before it happened that my life was over.”

Declan paused, took a stuttering breath, and I couldn’t take anymore.

I couldn’t live with the knowledge of what came next. I couldn’t. My heart was already shattered and whatever had happened to Declan that caused his life to be over would demolish me. Whatever it was that made this big, strong, tough man tremble and shake violently—if it did that to him, it would kill me.

“Honey,” I whispered in an effort to make him stop.

I knew my voice wobbled, I knew it sounded weak, but I couldn’t let him continue to torture himself, to relive something so horrific that he was squeezing me to him like he wanted to absorb me yet at the same time fly out of his skin.

“Four cars rolled into the parking lot. I yelled for Juliana. She looked up, saw the cars, grabbed our girl, but it was too late, shots rang out. Fucking hell, bullets mowed down everyone in their path. Juliana’s family was dropping, people were running and screaming. So goddamn loud. Never forgot the sound. By the time I made it to my wife, it was too late. I was too late. Violet was limp in her arms. Fucking blood pouring out of my baby. So many holes. Fuck! I was too late. A living death. I pulled Juliana into my arms. She was still clutching our girl even though she was gone, still trying to protect her. Until her last breath and Violet rolled and I saw. Every bullet that had hit my girl had passed through her into Juliana. Both gone. Both dead in my arms. A living fucking death.”

His voice hitched and I was frozen, suspended in time, gripped in grief and the worst sorrow I’d ever felt. Ever. Not even when my body was being abused had I ever felt heartache so deep. So complete that it covered me in a darkness I never knew existed. Had never felt.

Not once in my life.

And Declan lived with that, every day.

A living death.

Oh, God.

I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t know if it was because Declan’s arms were like two steel bands around me and my lungs had collapsed, or if it was from his heavy breathing. He was struggling to suck in air. I felt it. His anguish was stifling.

I tried to roll away and his arms got tighter.

“Honey, let me up.”

“Can’t.”

“Please, Dec, honey, let me up.”

I pushed again and his arm around me fell limp onto the mattress. As fast as I could, I scrambled so I was sitting astride him, my hands resting on his chest. I’d looked down at his handsome face from this perch many times, dozens and dozens. But never had I seen him so destroyed.

There were no words to describe the raw pain on his face.

No words to define the pain I felt when I saw tears in his eyes.

Oh, God.

“Declan, look at me.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Dec, honey, please look at me.”

His red-brown eyes came to mine. I inhaled at the sight. The Declan I knew wasn’t there. Not even the lethal warfighter I knew him to be.

Gone.

Every muscle trembled, a hard wall of agony.

“I’m so sorry you lost them.”