AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It's then that it hits me—not another of Declan’s punches, but a realization so stark it almost sobers my pain-addled brain. These two people, they're what I've got. They're my shaky bridge over an abyss of solitude, my tether to a world where I'm more than a pair of fists and a string of bad decisions.
I lived my entire life thinking only about myself. But, if I do that now-if I let go, what happens to them? Who will take care of Evan? What would happen to Evelyn now that Declan's got his claws sunk into her?
I can't let that happen. Maybe I don't care what happens to me, but I care what happens to them.
"Get up, for them," I mutter to myself, feeling the weight of years spent unanchored, drifting through violence and detachment. Somehow, through the blood and sweat, Evelyn and Evan crept into the hollow space inside me.
"Stand up, fight back," I whisper, using the pain as fuel. I push against the ground, every muscle screaming in protest. I know that my next move has got to count. My vision is blurry and my muscles are shaky. I don't know whether it's the force of Declan's blow or if I'm about to fall into another seizure that's making me see stars.
Whatever it is, I know I've got this one chance.
I'm fighting for more than just survival now. I'm fighting because, for the first time, there's something—someone—to stand for.
Chapter Forty-Three
The heavy clank of the door handle disrupts the tense silence, and I can't help but hope it's Constantino returning. Instead, Declan O'Leary fills the doorway, his hulking figure casting a shadow that chills the already frigid air. My heart plummets to my stomach; I know that look in his eyes—hungry, like a wolf eyeing its prey.
"Thought it might be your lover boy coming back to save you?" Declan's voice is a thick Irish brogue, dripping with mockery as he saunters into the room. I force myself not to shrink away, but it's hard—like trying to stand strong against a gale-force wind.
"Maybe I was," I retort, ignoring the quiver in my voice.
"Ah, Evelyn, still fawning over a man who's about to get slaughtered in the ring." He chuckles, and it grates on me. "You'd be wise to forget him. Your future lies with me now."
I glance at Evan, whose small hand grips mine with a strength that belies his years. His tiny body tenses, ready tospring into action or spew words that could get us both killed. Before he can unleash whatever thoughts are brewing behind those wide, innocent eyes, I cut in sharply.
"Let's just see how this fight plays out, shall we?" I say, injecting a bravado I'm far from feeling.
Declan grins. "Oh, I admire that spirit, Evelyn. But mark my words, you'll be working for me soon enough. And don't worry, love," he adds, stepping closer, his breath foul with the scent of stale whiskey, "I'll take good care of you."
My stomach twists as he leans in, his presence oppressive. It takes all my willpower not to recoil, to maintain some semblance of control in front of Evan, who needs to see me strong.
"Guess time will tell, Declan." I meet his gaze evenly, refusing to show weakness. "It always does."
His laughter echoes off the walls.
"Come on then," Declan chuckles, a low, menacing sound. "Time's wasting, and so is your misplaced faith."
I swallow thickly, my pulse hammering in my ears as I follow him down the corridor, Evan's fingers wrapped tightly around mine. The walls seem to close in, the poor light barely enough to keep me from tripping over my own feet. This cramped, shadowed space doesn't look anything like the headquarters of power I'd imagined. It's more like a rat's warren, a place where secrets scuttle unseen in the gloom.
We finally stop at a nondescript door. Declan's hand rests on the knob, his eyes glinting with that same unsettling amusement. "In there," he instructs, gesturing for me to enter. "Take a seat. And remember, no matter what happens, this is your new world now."
He turns and saunters off, leaving me alone with Evan. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I walk through the door and take in my surroundings. My gaze falls on the littlemetal folding chair, cold and uninviting, but it's the only option in this barren room.
"Stay close to me," I whisper to Evan, forcing a strength into my voice I don't feel. He nods, his small hand gripping mine.
We sit, the chair creaking under my weight. The room is barely lit, the shadows playing tricks on my eyes. A few mats are laid haphazardly on the ground, the only concession to comfort in this makeshift arena.
The fight begins without fanfare; no bell, no announcements. Just the sudden, violent dance of two men locked in combat. Declan and Constantino circle each other, their movements deliberate and predatory. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoes through the room, punctuated by the occasional grunt or snarled insult.
My heart races as I try to read the fight, the fear and adrenaline tangling in my chest. Constantino moves with a feral grace that belies his volatile nature, and for a moment, I let myself hope. But then I catch the shimmer of sweat on his brow, the slight tremor in his hands. I've seen him manage his condition, and the telltale signs are there—if you know what to look for.
The room feels smaller with each passing second, the air thick with the scent of violence and desperation. Declan's laughter rings out, cruel and jarring against the rhythm of the fight. I grip the edges of the chair, the metal biting into my palms as I fight the urge to scream, to run, to do anything but sit here, helpless.
The punches come hard and fast, each thud of flesh against flesh reverberates through the sparse room, sounds that seem almost too intimate for such violence. Declan's sneers slice through the air, taunting Constantino with a venom that makes my blood boil.
"Come on, Maldonado, show me what you got!" Declan spits out between blows, his words like poison-tipped darts.
I press my lips together, stifling the urge to shout back at him, to leap from this cold metal chair and claw at his eyes. But I'm not here to fight; I'm here to witness. And it's tearing me apart, this helplessness, this forced silence.
