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“Does it look like I give a fuck?” I snap, downing another shot.
“Fuck’s sake,” he mumbles. “I’m cutting you off. Get your fucking ass home. Now.”
“Fuck you.” Turning to him, I sway wildly, and he grabs my collar to stop me from tumbling.
“I’m serious, C. Get your ass home before you do something you’ll regret.”
“Fuck off, man. Or do you want to fight me?”
Mark’s face holds a mixture of annoyance and pity. “Don’t be a prick. You’re too pissed to stand up straight.”
“You think I give two shits what you think?” I sneer, knocking back another drink. “You know what? Fuck you, man. I can drink if I want to. I don’t care if I do end up splattered across these fucking walls. The fuck do I care?”
“You’re gonna regret this shit tomorrow.”
“Whatever, man,” I slur, my words even more slurred than before. “You know what? Fuck it. You’re all a bunch of stupid cunts anyway.”
His grip on my arm tightens.
“Fuck off and let me go,” I snarl, shaking off his hand.
“Nope. You’re going down a path that is going to get you killed.”
“Get the fuck off me,” I grunt, throwing a punch at him, which he dodges and sends me sprawling across the bar. “Fuck you.”
“C, this is beyond.” He snaps his fingers, and two of my guys grab me by each arm and haul me toward the door. “You’ll thank me tomorrow. Well, maybe the day after. Go home, pass out and don’t wake up until whatever shit is going on with you is sorted.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumble, but let my guys lead me away. My bravado has crashed down, and now I just feel drunk and useless.
17
SUMMER
Iwake up feeling nauseous and weak, the weight of my body almost too much to bear as I force myself to sit up. The thought of going to work today makes my stomach churn even more. It’s not just the sickness that keeps me rooted in place, but the fear of Ciarán and what might happen if I step outside the safety of my home.
But I have to move. I can’t afford to take a day off, and even if I could, I can’t let him get to me. I have to keep living my life as if he never came into it.
Well, maybe not quite so carefree. I’ll always be looking over my shoulder, but the fact that he hasn’t come back to my home gives me the strength to push forward.
“Just another day,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Just one more ordinary day.”
Hauling myself to my feet, I breathe in deeply, thankful that this is a later shift today. I don’t start until lunchtime, so I have the morning to pull myself together.
My heart races as I peer through the curtains, half-expecting to see him outside, but there’s nothing, just the usual quiet street bathed in soft morning light. I let out a shuddering sigh and lean against the window, willing my body to calm down. Making my way to the bathroom, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that prickles down my back as the fresh scabs pull on the cuts on my back.
As I splash cold water onto my face, I gulp and push away the growing desire burning inside me. He forced himself on me with an almost primal hunger. His hands gripped me tightly, bruising my flesh as he thrust into me with a ferocity that left me breathless and terrified. The memory of his blade slicing into my skin, drawing blood, sends a shudder through my body. The sharp, burning pain had been shocking, but the way he looked at me – his eyes dark and dangerous, filled with a maddened possession, has touched something deep within my soul, and I can’t stop thinking about him.
I’m not afraid of him. If he comes back here, I’m not afraid ofhim.
I am afraid of whatIwill do and say.
Trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions that threaten to suffocate me, I choke back a laugh. “God, what’s wrong with me? Why do I want him? Why am I letting him do this to me?”
Hating myself for giving into the darkness that surrounds Ciarán; his world is one of violence and danger, that much is obvious, and yet, I find myself unable to turn away from it. He represents everything I should be repulsed by, but there’s an allure in his savage nature that I can’t resist.
As I stand here, tangled in my own web of conflicted emotions, I realize just how deeply this desire has taken root in me. It’s not just a physical attraction; it’s an unquenchable thirst to understand the enigma that is Ciarán Gannon, to unravel the secrets that lie beneath his ruthless façade.
I hate how he makes me feel like I’m falling and flying all at once. If only I could find the strength to fight back, to push him away, but it’s useless.
