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Acid was burning a trail down his throat and into his stomach, searing a trail through his vital organs all the way down to his blackened, lost soul.

“I can’t live without her,” Drake said bleakly. “The last three days have been hell. This morning I told myself I didn’t even give a shit if she had betrayed me or not. I was willing to do anything to have her back and promise her anything to make that happen. Even if it meant going straight.”

Silas seemed to wrestle with himself for several long moments. A lifetime for Drake, who stood there, barely able to breathe for the pain choking him.

Finally, Silas leveled a stare at him that Drake couldn’t possibly mistake. It was Silas’s most grave, most serious expression, the one that said he meant business and would fuck you up if you didn’t heed his words.

“You mess up again, Drake, and it won’t be you or Justice who steps in to take care of Evangeline. Get me? I’ll be there for her in whatever capacity she needs for as long as she needs me, and I’ll give her the fucking moon. I shouldn’t tell you shit. I sure as hell shouldn’t help you. And if it weren’t for the fact that Evangeline is hurting every bit as much as you are, I’d say fuck you and leave you to rot in your self-made misery.”

His words scored a direct hit, making Drake wince with each and every one.

“She’s in the apartment next to mine,” Silas finally said. “The one on the right. Don’t fuck this up again, Drake. That’s the only warning you’re going to get.”

“I appreciate it. I appreciate you being there for Evangeline and for taking care of her after I ripped her apart. She needs people like you in her life. To save her from people like me,” he said bleakly.

“Here’s the extra key,” Silas said, tossing it over the desk to Drake. “I’ll expect to be your best man, provided she agrees to marry you still.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Drake said softly. “Neither would she.”

Silas offered a faint smile as he headed toward the elevator. “Be good to her.”

“I will,” Drake murmured, closing his eyes.

God, just give me one more chance to make her happy and I swear I’ll never let her down again.

29

Drake walked into Silas’s quiet apartment building, perspiration dampening his shirt, despite the frigid temperatures outside. There wasn’t much in his life that he could ever say truly scared him. There wasn’t anything he feared, not even death. Death was merely the means to an end. The end of a beautiful, long ride or . . . a shortcut through unplanned scenery resulting in taking the wrong turn.

But the prospect of losing Evangeline for good?

Fucking terrified him.

His hands were shaking when he got off the elevator on the top floor, and every step toward her door at the end of the hall seemed like a mile. He thought about knocking—it made him a complete asshole not to knock—but then if he calmly announced his arrival, she likely wouldn’t let him in the door.

Did it make him any less of an asshole to knock first and then if she didn’t respond, use the key Silas had given him? He couldn’t remember if the apartments in his buildings had dead bolts. Surely they did. Silas wasn’t an asshole of a landlord who didn’t take care of his tenants. But he was also in the first stages of renovation on the top floor, so the dead bolts might or might not be present.

At any rate, he’d knock and not just barge in and terrify and overwhelm her. After that? Well, he’d take it one step at a time.

He stopped in front of the door and simply placed his palm flat against the wooden surface and then leaned to press his forehead against it as well.

“Please talk to me, Evangeline,” he whispered. “Please be the gorgeous, generous, loving woman you’ve always been and give me the chance I refused to give you. I don’t deserve it but I’m begging you, like you begged me.”

He had to stop because he damned himself more with every word that came out of his mouth. Straightening to his full height, he knocked sharply on the door and then waited, holding his breath, each passing second an eternity.

His heart sank when he knocked again and heard no reply. Could she be sleeping? Silas had said she was distraught. Upset. He’d even called when Drake had been on his way over to tell him that he’d had to give her pain medication for a horrific headache she’d suffered. Yet one more sin to tarnish his already blackened soul.

Worried that she could very well be ill, he hesitated only a fraction of a second before pulling out the key and inserting it into the lock. A rush of air blew over his lips when the door opened, unbarred by a dead bolt. He stepped inside and softly called, “Evangeline? Angel, baby, it’s me, Drake. Are you here?”

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