Series: Shame On You Series by Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I can’t help but ask the worry that never leaves me, “Is Declan going to be all right?”
Even asking the question makes me feel a hundred times more conflicted. If he doesn’t love me, then I shouldn’t care. But the feelings I have for him can’t be turned on and off with a snap of my fingers. Heartache gets stronger in my chest until it seems almost impossible to avoid breaking down.
Carter must be able to see that because his expression is genuinely worried. “He’ll be fine. I’m concerned about you.”
He’s quiet, and my first thought is that I shouldn’t say anything. Or that I should say I’m fine. I war with myself internally and I know too much time has passed when I settle on the truth.
“I don’t think I’m okay. I don’t trust myself.” My hands shake on the table and I thread my fingers together and hold them tight. The storm of emotions inside me only gets stronger. If I had the freedom to cry and let it all out, maybe I’d feel better…or maybe not. It’s hard to tell if I have any freedom at all. I meet Carter’s eyes across the table. I don’t know what he knows. “Do you know what happened?”
“We know everything.” The way he says it and the look in his eyes…
This truth makes my stomach feel cold with all the dread of the day. It gets colder and colder until finally it goes numb.
They know everything.
There. That’s out in the open.
I swallow thickly, my mouth dry, and brace myself for the next question I have to ask him.
“Are you going to kill me?”
I shouldn’t be afraid, death would at least be an escape, but fear runs through me, coating every vein in more cold. I stare down at my hands on the table. Men like Carter could kill me in a second. That’s also true of Declan. If that’s their intention, I probably won’t have long to worry about it. It could be over in the time it takes to pull a trigger.
But I am afraid. I don’t want to die. Regret leaves a bitter taste in my mouth and my chest hurts more than ever.
“Braelynn.”
I look up at Carter’s face and from his expression, I think he’s said my name several times. The question I asked hangs between us. Are you going to kill me? I sit up straight and steel myself for an answer. Carter doesn’t look like he’s about to pronounce a death sentence, but I’ve been wrong before. I’ve been so, so wrong before.
“We’re not going to kill you.” His voice is low and steady, not shaking at all, though I don’t know why it would be. He’s used to things like this happening.
“Okay.” I can’t help the relief that trickles through my veins. It’s probably foolish to be relieved at a time like this, but I’m not in charge of my body that way right now. Then again, there are worse things than dying, which crashes through the relief like a boulder. “What are you going to do to me, then?”
Carter looks me dead in the eyes. “We’re going to keep you safe.”
Declan
Sleep weighs my eyes down as the car door opens in the crisp cold. I take my time getting in the front and sink back into the leather seat as Jase drives off. Nothing seems real. Yet everything is heavy. I can’t stop thinking about my Braelynn.
For hours on end, I’ve tried to decide what to do to make it right. But I don’t know how the fuck it got so bad. The vision of her in the window is one that’s stayed with me.
I know she loves me. I fucking know she does. But then how could she possibly want to end it? I don’t understand. All I know is that I’m not okay and neither is she.
Jase asks me something and I barely hear it. I shrug, not wanting to stop for anything. I just want to get back so I can hold her again. I don’t know what to say to her though. Everything I’ve done has made things worse.
“Are you all right?” Jase asks and again I shrug.
I don't trust myself to speak. All the while in that holding cell I held it together, but it doesn’t escape me that without them watching, all I want to do is break down.
“What the fuck happened in there? Did you tell them something?”
My eyes narrow as I stare back at Jase. Anxiousness is rolling off his stiff shoulders as he glances between me and the road.
“As if I’d ever fucking do that,” I answer, my voice low. The anger and disappointment are apparent.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Jase answers, relief more evident than anything else. We slow to a red light and he questions me again, “What the hell happened then?” Worry riddles into his words.