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If I left now though, I’d never find out why Declan lied, and I’d never find out if he really loved me, and I’d have to live the rest of my life not knowing.
That hurts more than anything else. I still don’t exactly want to get out of the car when the lawyer opens the door and waits expectantly.
“Thank you.”
The lawyer keeps his hand above my elbow on the walk to the front door, more than likely because my legs wobble, and I’m sure many of my thoughts can be read on my face. My heart races. The truth is behind that door, somewhere. It’s a matter of getting Declan to give it to me, and if he doesn’t…that means our love is a lie, too.
The lawyer knocks lightly on the door, then opens it without hesitating. It’s not locked. They’re waiting for us.
We step inside.
A false sense of relief washes over me, but it’s quickly replaced by the cold, numb feeling I had before. Carter’s waiting for us near the front door with his arms crossed over his chest and a serious look on his face. Declan is nowhere to be seen.
Shivers run down my spine as my gaze drops down the crisp suit and lands on the floor. Breathing is harder feeling his eyes on me.
“Where is Declan?” I manage to whisper to the lawyer, my hand rushing to land on his and keep Carter from holding me. But he doesn’t allow that. He slowly lets me go in the grand foyer of the estate. Handing me over to Carter Cross.
“He’s still waiting to be released.”
“Michael, what is the update?” Carter questions businesslike, without addressing me at all.
The lawyer clears his throat. “Maybe we should discuss this in private?”
Carter nods sharply.
“Lead the way.” The lawyer steps further into the house as my feet remain planted where they are, the door to my back. Once again I’m wondering if I could possibly open it.
Carter begins to follow the hollow steps of expensive shoes against marble, but he hesitates. “Do you need company?” His question is gentle and catches me off guard so much that I peer up into his dark gaze.
I shake my head as I swallow thickly. Without conscious consent, my arms cross over my chest and then I let them drop again, all the while avoiding his monitoring gaze. I’ve had enough of being scared and confused, and it’s not getting better. But all I know for sure is that I want Declan.
Eyes guarded, Carter looks me up and down. “Where will you be?”
My voice cracks, so I clear my throat and start again. “Kitchen.”
He nods, then holds out a hand and gestures toward the kitchen.
A light above the stove is on, giving low light to the space. Time passes so slowly and at first I sit, but then I stand and go about without thinking much. I open cupboards until I find a glass, then fill it in the sink. The cool water eases my dried throat, but it makes me feel a bit sick. I press my wrist to my forehead and make myself drink more water. When the glass is half-empty, I dump the rest into the sink and put the glass down harder than I meant to. I almost expect it to crack, but the glass holds.
It feels less fragile than I do. The kitchen begins to tilt, and damn—if I don’t sit down soon, I’ll probably fall and hit my head on the floor. Then I'd be at the mercy of whoever finds me.
I get to a chair at the kitchen table just as my knees go wobbly and give out. Burying my face in my hands, I feel them shake. Memories of the hospital and the two fake detectives make me feel sick and betrayed. By those two men, for playing a role like that and asking me so many questions, but mostly by Declan.
He lied. It’s all I can focus on because I don’t want to believe it. I remember how he kissed me while I laid in that bed. How he silenced every fear just then.
How much of it was a lie?
Though the lawyer and Carter aren’t speaking loudly, I can hear the murmurs of their conversation through the walls. I didn’t want to be alone, but this is the worst way to be alone. I’m not by myself. I’m with Carter, who I know is going to watch my every move, and I’m not protected.
I swallow thickly as the memories of feeling so safe with Declan rush back into my mind. My eyes burn but I don’t let any tears slip down under my palms. Was I wrong to believe he loved me? It seems from all the evidence the day has revealed that I was.
The refrigerator kicks on, humming away in its spot in the kitchen. Thankfully it blocks out the rumble of Carter’s conversation with the lawyer. I don’t want to hear a word of it. I don’t want to be a part of any of this.
I breathe through my nose and release each breath through my mouth, trying to calm myself. Whatever else happens, I need to stay as strong as I can.
Voices in the hallway tell me that Carter and the lawyer are finished talking. I hear them exchange goodbyes, and then the whoosh of air as the front door opens. It closes a second later and I hear the lock flip.
Then footsteps. Fuck. My heart thumps at the same pace.
