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Declan Gallagher is nothing but a liar and a fraud. He made me his alright, but only until he decided I wasn’t worth it and left me here in Chicago to die.
He may not have sent me here, but he didn’t come to save me either. I was nothing more than his discards. Trash. A little girl who believed in love and thought there was a chance I could have something more than my miserable, mundane life.
This is a disaster.
He can’t be here, and I’m not just talking about the windy city, but this club.
In my life.
Ever since I started my daily prayers, I’ve asked for the strength to forgive—my parents, him, myself—but I’m weak. I believed my parents when they told me they’d always be there to protect me. I believed Declan when he said he loved me. I believed a lot of things, and they all turned out to be nothing but pretty little lies.
I was so desperate, so starved for affection, I fell to my knees for the first man who looked past my mayor father and gave me the slightest attention. I was naïve, a fool who thought she could run away from the world her parents created and have a happily ever after. The only thing I did was exchange one cage for another, when all I wanted was a little taste of freedom.
Little did I know, freedom always comes with a price, and I paid dearly. I don’t even have anything to show for it. I lost everything.
I hurry down the stairs, away from Declan, away from my past, away from the sins I can’t seem to escape. Maybe he won’t follow me. Maybe I can slip away before he can find me. He wants to talk, and I have nothing to say.
Declan Gallagher is the reason I’m here.
The reason I lost so much of myself.
The reason I almost wanted to stop living.
“Eve, wait.” I hear him calling my name behind me, hear him stomping down the stairs, but I don’t look back. I don’t trust myself—or him.
There was a time where he was everything, he was my whole world. Then he burned it down and left me in the ashes.
“Dammit, Eve, I’m not letting you walk the streets alone. A girl like you doesn’t stand a chance out there in the big bad world.”
I whip around at the bottom of the stairs and poke a finger into his hard abs. I try to ignore how much bigger he is than me—taller, broader, more muscular. I used to love those things about him but not anymore.
He won’t intimidate me, not even with all those new tattoos inked all over his forearms and peeking out from the top of his t-shirt.
“Let’s get one thing clear. I am not some helpless little girl, and I don’t need your help.”
I turn back around and stumble. From the corner of my eye I can see him reaching out for me, but I shake him off and weave my way through the bodies. I don’t remember the club being so crowded, or so small. The bodies seem to be closing in on me and I can’t move. I can’t get away. I can’t break free.
The air thickens like morning fog rolling in as the sun comes up. It’s blanketing the floor, surrounding me, suffocating me. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe.
Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and cherish you have given to me. I surrender it all to be guided by your will.
I manage to break free from the crowd, the fog, and practically fling myself through the doors and into the cool city air. I take a deep breath and it hurts. The street lights blur and I no longer feel steady on my feet.
No, I can’t. I can’t collapse here. He’ll find me. He’ll—
I wish I could go back to yesterday, back when I couldn’t feel, back when everything was turned off and I could go through the motions without feeling this bad. Without breaking.
After taking several shallow breaths, I press my back against the brick wall, letting the rough exterior of the club keep me from falling.
Darkness creeps into my vision, dimming the world around me, and that suffocating feeling is back. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. People are milling around me, but everything seems like it’s happening in slow motion.
“M’fhíorghrá.” His hands are framing my face, running down my hair, squeezing my shoulders—everywhere they’re not supposed to be, and the more he touches me, the more my throat constricts. “You have to breathe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
For now.
“Don’t. Need. You.”
“Look at me.” The sharp tone of his voice cuts through the fog and he grips my chin, forcing me to meet his hardened gaze.
