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The sound of metal clinking is what brings my blurred vision into focus. I quickly wipe at my face when I see Declan staring down at me with a set of cuffs in his hands. My wrists are already sore and have deep cuts in them. His eyes roam down my body and I can practically read his mind.Pathetic.I am pathetic and weak, lying ragged in his bed.
“I don’t think you need these …” he murmurs and then drops them to the nightstand with a loud clunk. Before I can respond he says, “You need to sleep. If you kill me, they’ll kill you. If you try to leave, they’ll kill you. If you lie there as you should, and sleep, you will live.”
The weight of his words and the position I find myself in are unlike anything I ever could have prepared for. I almost wish I hadn’t fought to live. I almost wish the deadly cold water had just taken me.
I don’t ask him if he knew they were going to do that to me. I don’t ask him if he told them to do it. I don’t ask him anything. I remain silent, closing my eyes and praying that when I wake it up it was only a horrid nightmare. Although I am already far too aware that this is my reality. This is what I asked for, loving a Cross brother.
DECLAN
With the brutal wind battering the windows in the early morning hours when all the sky is black, I know there isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to be able to sleep next to Braelynn. Hours have passed since she silently cried herself to sleep. All the while all I could do was lay here, contemplating the consequences of what I’ve just done.
I never should have touched her. I knew the moment I saw her that it would be a mistake. Rubbing my hand down my face, I try to rid myself of the image of her staring at me from across the bar, gorgeous and seemingly naïve. Rubbing my eyes harder I wish it would all slow down. I wish I could go back. Regret has never consumed me more.
I’m a fool and she paid the price.
The image of her in the water will be forever engraved in my mind and it haunts me as I lie here. This is all my fault. I’ve made everything way worse than it ever needed to be.
All because of what? Because she made my dick hard and brought on feelings from far too long ago before I knew shit and still had hope for something else? It was all a mistake.
And now I’ve fucked us both.
The bed groans as I slowly climb out of it, easing the covers off with care before staring down at her sleeping form. Everything aches with the dread of what’s to come. With only pajama bottoms on, I head to the bathroom. Before leaving my bedroom, I quickly slip on an undershirt and grab my phone.
I only hesitate a moment after the door closes with a quiet click. There’s no way to lock it from the outside. I settle on a simple truth: if she leaves that bed after I told her not to, she’ll seal her own fate. My heart thuds dully as I make my way down the hall. So much is riding on her actions. There’s too much I can’t control, too many people aware she’s been spared, too many eyes watching and waiting.
With exhaustion weighing me down and an unsettling feeling warning me that things have gone too far and the situation’s out of my hands, I go to the only place I know is safe.
A bit of hope glimmers when I notice light peeking from under Carter’s closed door.
Swallowing thickly, I knock lightly and he must’ve seen my approach on the monitor because he calls out for me to come in straightaway.
It’s an odd feeling that comes over me as the door creeps open. It’s a nostalgia of sorts, like when we first had the estate built over a decade ago. When Carter gave every order and all I had to do was what I was told. When my brothers protected me and I obeyed without question, wanting nothing more than to remain in their shadows. Time has changed everything.
Carter’s dark but tired eyes stare back at me, the glow of his laptop screen the only light other than a floor lamp in the far corner. Old books line the left side of his office, while art from Aria covers the right wall in its entirety.
She’s changed him in more ways than he knows.
“Can’t sleep,” I offer and he gestures for me to sit in one of the two leather wingback chairs across from him.
“Same,” he answers grimly before closing the laptop. The thick curtains behind him are parted and the moonlight filters in.
As I take the seat opposite him, I remember how he looked at Braelynn from across the kitchen. How he looked atus. The regret sours to something else. Something sickening that I can’t place. He must read it in my expression because his own changes, reflecting both authority and remorse.
It’s quiet far too long, both of us waiting for the other to speak first. His thumb taps against the hard surface of his desk before he takes in a steadying breath.
His lips part but instead of talking, he clears his throat and then glances at the door before looking back to me.
“Tell me what you need,” he says, finally breaking the silence. He’s wise not to mention her. There’s something inside of me that dares him to say her name. That dares him to question me keeping her. Even though I know damn well what I’ve done is fucked.
I start with the most troubling issue outside of Braelynn and me. “I don’t know how to cover what happened to Ronnie.”
“Who all saw?” Carter questions.
“Nate and Hale.” Our conversation is clipped and blunt as I grip the armrests and do everything I can to stay calm and still.
“Nate will understand that you lost it,” Carter says easily and then seems to second-guess his wording.
I wave his nervous look off. “I did. I lost control,” I admit.
