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“Did he buy this for you?” I snarl, taking the delicate band between my fingers and roll the cheap tennis bracelet. I scoff, because this thing can’t be more than a carat. Probably some cheap pawn shop shit.
“So what if he did?” She retorts, trying once again to pull her hand back with no avail. Looking from the bracelet to her, I keep my eyes locked on hers. With a flick of my wrist, the snap of the bracelet is heard.
Her eyes go wide, fury flashing across her face. “Declan! What the fuck! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“There’s one flaw in your plan to forget me,mo ghrá.” I reach up with my other hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t plan on letting you go. You aremine.”
“No, I’m not.” She rips her hand out of my grasp, surprising me. Tears are forming in the corners of her eyes when she speaks again. “Please. Go home.” Her voice cracks, and I feel my heart break a little more.
“Not without you,” I whisper, taking a step forward and reaching for her. She recoils, and I drop my hand. The immense hurt flashes across her face at my advances.
She really does want me gone.
“I’m not giving up on you, but I will give you space. I’ll be waiting when you’re ready to come home,” I force out, forcing myself to respect her wishes. She’s already pissed with me, I don’t want to make it worse. I don’t want to give her the choice to walk away because I won’t give her space. She’s had months, sure, but I need her to know that I’m not giving up. I refuse to lose years worth of love and friendship over a secret kept for her protection.
“Thank you.” Her voice is so low I have to strain to hear it. I almost feel as though my ears have deceived me, but her body says otherwise. She looks calm but stormy, definitely on the verge of a mental break.
Walking over to her, I wrap her in my arms. I’m surprised when she doesn’t pull away again, but I am definitely grateful. She may need space, but I need her to know that I am lost without her. She’s my rock. My world. Even a few seconds worth of physical affection can help me tide over a little longer. I lean down and place a kiss gently on the top of her head. “I love you.” I remind her, taking one last longing look at her before turning and walking out the door.
Once in the car, I drive around aimlessly. All of our memories cloud my brain, and I find myself struggling to breathe. My chest tightens at the feeling of losing her all over again. I beat myself up for my mistakes everyday, the fact that my actions have caused her to run. She’s lost everyone close to her. She only had me, and even I failed her. They say honesty goes both ways, and I lied to her from the start. My world crumbles because I wrecked her.Sheis my world.
Pulling over on the side of the road quickly, I step out of the car. Inhaling a long breath of fresh air, I bend forward placing my hands on my knees. Taking deep breaths for several minutes, I’m finally able to breathe normally. More thoughts flood my mind about her…
What if she never comes home? How am I supposed to forget her? What if she does the same to me in a bout of revenge? What if she never forgives me?
It’s daybreak by the time I return to the hotel. Exhaustion creeps into my mind and body. The stress and anxiety of seeing her, seeing how thin she has gotten, how hollow she looks is taking a toll on my own mental wellbeing. Finn is sleeping hard as I pass him, and I slip in the bed quietly. As soon as I hit the pillow, sleep pulls me under. Though, it’s not a good sleep.
I toss and turn the entire time. My dreams are no better than my reality. Natalia walking away replays over and over, always on repeat even if I wake in the middle of each one. My own personal hell has haunted my mind and body, now it haunts my soul. I could’ve just shot my father, Ishould’vejust shot him, but I didn’t because I was afraid he would pop a shot off quicker and hit Natalia. Both scenarios show me that I would lose Natalia. My heart hoped that she would forgive me for keeping a secret, understanding that it was for protection. My head knew better, it knew that she would run but didn’t want to take that chance.
Maybe I should have just shot him anyway. Maybe things would be different. All I know is when I wake, I have to leave my entire world on the other side of the country.
Chapter six
Natalia
“Don’twalkawayfromme,” Greyson grits through his teeth.
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, Greyson.” I throw back at him as I move past him to open the door to my apartment.
“Who was that man?” He repeats his question harshly. His hand darts out, wrapping around my upper arm with a crushing grip. I’m certain there will be bruises. The sudden attack catches me off guard as he pulls me to a stop, and I stare at him in shock before regaining my composure. “He’s the one who sent those flowers on your birthday, isn’t he?”
“If you know what’s good for you, you will let go of my arm. Now,” I hiss, feeling my blood boiling below the surface. The grip he has on my arm tightens.
“And if I don’t?” He questions, pulling me closer to him by my arm. The air between us swirls with the strong smell of whiskey. It’s too fucking early to drink but not for him, apparently.
"If you don't let go of me, you're signing your own death certificate." I give him one more chance, but it's clear he isn't interested in letting go.
Placing my hand on his wrist while prying his fingers off me, I twist his hand until I hear the satisfyingcrackof his bone breaking, the snapping under my fingers play into my own fury. He screams out in agony, cradling his broken wrist against his chest. His face goes from one of agony to one of pure rage.
"Youbitch!" He screeches and lunges for me. I'm not sure why I'm surprised, maybe it's because I'm usually good at reading people, and I definitely never expected this from him. He's inebriated, but he's still fast. My half a second of hesitation gave him enough time to land a harsh blow to my face. My head whips to the side from his punch, my teeth rattling for a split second. I slowly turn my head back at him, glaring harshly. He doesn’t move after that, obviously thinking that I won’t do anything about it.
He’s got another thing coming.
"You're going to regret that," I grit quietly while cupping my cheek. During my glaring at him, I feel wetness beneath my finger tips leaking slowly. Blood has been drawn. He smirks as he looks at the family ring that's always on his finger.
He doesn't have time to react before I pounce on him, and we go toppling to the floor. My fists smash into his face at a rapid pace, drawing my own bloody revenge on him. Every punch gets faster and harder, the added adrenaline in my throws puts more speed behind each one. I pummel him into the flooring, very aware of the blood leaking from his busted face.
"Don't.Fucking.Touch.Me.Again" I emphasize each word with a punch to signify my meaning. Each brutal swing is like an exclamation mark to get my point across.
