Page 52 of Declan

Autumn.

That’s what was wrong.

Fucking, fucking, shit.

I’d lost it. Totally melted down. And fucked up huge.

I barely made it to Autumn’s couch before my legs gave way. My ass hit the cushion, my elbows went to my knees, and I hung my head in defeat.

In shame.

Absolute shame.

What the hell had I done?

I would’ve left if I trusted my legs not to buckle. No, that was a goddamned lie. I would’ve left if I was a better man. I would’ve walked out the door and never looked back. But I couldn’t. My body revolted at the thought. I was so fucked-up inside, my head was a jumbled mess, and my heart was black as coal. But that bond that tethered me to Autumn was tied so tight I couldn’t break it.

The woman was completely unexpected. The emotion she conjured up startling.

“Fuck.”

Ruthless pain invaded my mind and clogged my throat. Juliana, Violet, Autumn. They all swirled together until I couldn’t breathe.

What the fuck have I done?

What in the actual, goddamn, fuck had I done? I never should’ve touched Autumn. No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t the touching and it wasn’t the sex, it was her eyes. Those dead, dull, listless green eyes. I never should’ve looked into them. That’s what fucked me up. Seeing the relentless pain, the raw hurt, the beauty she hid.

A kindred soul.

The very second those goddamn eyes locked onto mine, I was gone. Like a witch, she cast her spell and refused to let me break it. A curse that was binding us. And the worst part was I welcomed it. I wanted it. I needed it. And the more I craved it, the shittier I felt. It was more than guilt, beyond self-loathing. But the truth was, she’d become my asylum. My sanctuary, my refuge.

The only time I was safe was when I was with her.

My hand fisted my hair before it came to rest on the back of my neck and I squeezed. If I could’ve strangled myself, I would’ve.

I fucked everything up.

“Declan?”

Unable to do more than lift my eyes, I glanced at Autumn, red-faced and devastated.

I did that to her.

The white bandage on her arm caught my attention, then my gaze went to her neck. And before I could stop the memories, Autumn morphed into Juliana. Blonde hair turned brown, Autumn’s athletic figure turned curvy. The slice on her neck turned to bullet holes. I didn’t protect either of them. I’d been too late.

I heard Autumn call my name but all I could see was my wife, now in my arms holding Violet as she gasped her last breaths. Blood painted my hands—Violet and Juliana—how many times had I relived this moment? Millions. I’d forced myself to seek the memory often. Except when I was with Autumn. She was my haven. So wrong.

“Declan!”

I blinked and blinked again as I focused on Autumn. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t felt her come close. I’d missed her dropping to her knees in front of me.

“Dec,” she whispered.

The soft sound was full of misery—hurt, sadness, pain.

I did that to her.

Slowly, her hands came to my face and I tensed.