SHAME AND EMBARRASSMENT only exist in things you value. I feel none of that as Lachlan drives us back to Galashiels. I know Declan assumes I’m feeling that way after finding me naked, raped, and covered in Richard’s blood from where I bit his dick, but I don’t. My body trembles and quakes in his arms as he holds me, but I tremble from fear. Declan told me everything I’ve been longing to hear, but who’s to say I can trust him? Who’s to say this won’t fail like everything else?
Life has taught me that heartache is inevitable, proving over and over that dreams are simply that—dreams. Imaginative figments of our subconscious. Why am I to believe this is anything different? I certainly don’t deserve it.
So here I sit with two options: die or trust.
Death seems the safest choice, but I’m also not ready to let go of what I’m starting to get back. Declan’s like my heroin; I get one small taste, and I’m stuck, feening for more. But I’m terrified of losing it, knowing I can’t survive without him—I don’t want to survive without him. So if this is undoubtedly doomed, I’d be smart to just end this all now.
Maybe my true home doesn’t really exist in the hills of Scotland, but instead, in the presence of all that was and is no more. They say death is the ultimate paradise, and the idea of being back with my father and Pike is beyond tempting. But I can’t deny how good Declan’s hands feel on me right now. Holding me and stroking my back. He smells like he always has, and I find comfort in the spicy notes of his cologne the same way I used to find comfort in Pike’s clove cigarettes.
So as the uncertainty wracks my body in unquestionable fear, I hold on tightly to the one thing I fear the most—Declan. He’s the one who holds all the power here. He could easily destroy me or make all my dreams come true, but in order for me to find out which, I have to let go of my control, something I’ve never done before. It terrifies me to hand all the parts of me over to him and trust that he’ll take care of them.
For now, I selfishly take the affection he’s offering me and nuzzle my head more deeply against his chest so that I can hear every sound his heart is making. Allowing its rapid beats to sing to me, I cling more tightly to him. The closer I get, the more senses I open up to him, the more I let the fear consume me. All I want is comfort, but I’m too scared of the pain I’ll have to endure when it’s gone—and it will, one day, be gone.
When we arrive at Brunswickhill, Declan helps me out of the SUV as I wince in pain. The long drive back gave my body time to dissipate the adrenaline, and now my muscles and bones scream angrily at me, causing me to hunch over. Bracing my hand on Declan’s arm to steady myself, he moves to pick me up and carries me inside.
Neither of us speaks as he takes me up the stairs, but instead of going into the guest room, he carries me into his. He sets me down on the edge of his bathtub, and I watch him as he wets a washcloth. When he kneels in front of me, he begins wiping my face, and my eyes focus on the terrycloth as it turns from white to pink to red, collecting Richard’s blood.
I’m a tomb, sitting in the palace, observing. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
So I sit.
Maybe my body’s in shock.
Or maybe it’s just numbing itself for departure.
There’s no feeling, only sounds as Declan moves about, tending to me. He holds out a toothbrush, but my hand won’t move to take it.
“Open,” he gently requests, and I do.
Mint touches my tongue as he brushes my teeth, but it doesn’t taste right. And when I look up at Declan, he doesn’t look right. Sounds don’t sound right, as everything begins to vacuum itself into a tunnel of fog. And now, my chest doesn’t feel right. Pins prick along my body at the same time my eyes swim out of focus.
“Are you okay?” Declan’s lips ask, but his voice is muted and a million miles away as I sway.
My brain tells my mouth to speak, but the wires don’t connect the message as Declan’s face morphs into a concoction of colored specks.
And then he’s gone.
Strong hands press through the pins; one on my chest, and the other on my back, lowering my body down.
“Drop your head,” he instructs.
I reach out for him when I let my head fall, and his hands quickly move to mine, and I latch on to him. Everything’s disconnected, floating in an abyss, causing my pulse to pick up in a panic.
“I’m here. I’ve got you. Just close your eyes and take deep breaths.”
My tongue is completely numb as I attempt to finally speak, but my words only slur when I say, “I feel sick.”
“It’s okay. Just focus on breathing.”
Soon, I feel the heat of my blood flow, warming my insides, and when my vision comes into focus, I move slowly to sit up.
“Better?”
I nod.
“Let me get you some water,” he says before going to fill a glass from the faucet. “Here.”
I take a few sips, and Declan turns the water on in the shower. He undresses, and I can’t peel my eyes away from him as I watch. Every part of him is smooth and cut in deep, muscular lines. Walking over, he takes the glass from me, and helps me stand up.