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Both the fear and the chill still have a grip on me even an hour after slowly eating soup with Declan warming me. He hasn’t let go of me, and I haven’t let go of him either but I know it’s coming soon. I can’t hold on to him forever.
Even though he’s taken me through his home, from the vast kitchen and through the den to what he said was his wing and safe, to his bedroom, I barely saw a thing. The terror is blinding and I don’t know how I made it out of there alive. I don’t know what happened but I would do anything to never go back.
The only image replaying in my head over and over is of the iron cage being lifted and lowered repeatedly into the ice water. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. All I can do is cling to him even if I can’t look him in the eyes.
Did he send me there? Did he know what they were going to do? The questions are so easily answered. I know he did. The knowledge is paralyzing.
“Let go, Braelynn,” Declan commands as he lowers me down onto his bed. Still wrapped in the damp blanket, I hold on to it until he tells me otherwise.
“Get under the covers.” His tone is subdued, as if he hates this. As if he regrets taking me out of there. He killed him, didn’the? The muffled gunshot comes back to me in a flash. The man who was questioning me—Declan killed him. I know he did. But there were other men present too.
Nate.
Nate was there. My heart races and I try to swallow as Declan takes the blanket his brother gave me. Goosebumps still linger on my skin even though I’m cocooned within the sheets and thick comforter. I’m still freezing, still terrified.
“Declan—” I manage although my voice rasps. Hours of screaming and pleading did nothing but leave what feels like raw and hot deep scars on the inside of my throat.
With his hand on my jaw, he stills me, his eyes piercing into mine. They hold nothing but pain and regret. I can fucking feel it all and I know something has fundamentally shifted between us.
“Hush,” he commands me and then leaves my side. Swallowing thickly, I watch his back, the muscles rippling under his damp shirt that clings to him as he locks his bedroom door. My heart hammers in fear.
He told me I should be terrified.
All of the unanswered questions and all my fears rattle through me as I lie helplessly on his bed doing everything I can to have any composure at all.
I’m grateful I can even wiggle my toes. I swear they were blue. The thought of the tub and the ice bath has my eyes shutting tight and my entire body curling up in the fetal position. I’m doing everything I can not to look Declan in the eyes.
Please, let this all be a nightmare. I wish I’d never gone down that hall. I wish I’d never seen Scarlet or what Nate did. I wish I could just go back and wait for Declan like he wanted.
Life is a bitch for one reason only: all our actions are permanent.
As I grip the sheets tighter, I know that everything is wrong and not okay, no matter what Declan whispered on the waydown here. When he turns to face me, standing tall and powerful in his suit pants and shirt, he looks so much like his brothers. There’s an expression on his face I’ve never seen before and it warns me to run. That I’m not safe. I was never safe with him.
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” He points at me, his jaw clenched and his body powerful. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
My eyes widen as the shock of his statement warns me from within. I could throw up, with the sudden sickness that churns in my stomach.
“Declan,” I manage as I lift myself slightly on the bed, feeling my aching body come back to life.
He cuts me off, though, the weight of reality truly setting in for me.
“I can’t hear you lie to me.” That’s all he offers before he turns from me, pulling his shirt off over his head and dropping it to the floor.
Tears prick and there’s a hollowness in my chest. My bottom lip wobbles and pleas beg to spill from me.
“I didn’t—” The words come without my consent. Barely voiced as slivers of moonlight filter into the room through the blinds. But he hears me. The man I thought I could love, the man I knew could kill me … he hears and his answer breaks the last thread holding me together.
“I said hush. The last thing you should do right now is test me.”
There isn’t a single ounce of warmth left in his words and large, hot tears spill down my cheeks. They soak into his pillow as I lie there numbly, absorbing it all.
I can’t help but cry silently. Ever so silently. I don’t move, I don’t try to wipe the tears away or make a sound at all. I only bury myself in the covers, attempting to survive and live through this.How?I don’t know how I ever could.
Not when I can barely breathe as it is.
With simple cleanlines and varied tones of gray, the bedroom is just as masculine as it is cold. Each furniture piece is carved from dark, heavy wood. There isn’t an ounce of comfort or light. Every detail is consistent and sharp.Even the sheets and comforter on the bed look pristine as if they’ve never been touched.
