Page 3 of Destructive Truths

Stepping over me, he peers down at me with a victorious sneer pulled across his lips. Bile rushes up my throat, but I swallow it back down, unwilling to show this prick an ounce of weakness.

Donnacha reaches for me but stops when a loud, thunderous roar booms up the staircase, echoing through the open bedroom doorway. “Saoirse! SAOIRSE!” A raspy lilt littered with panic-stricken urgency greets my ears, followed by heavy footfalls racing up the staircase.

“Shit.” Donnacha’s haunted eyes flitter between me and the door.

I can see the wheels turning in his head. He knows he’s too injured to encounter whoever is coming. Indecision twists his features, and I use it to my advantage, placing doubt in his mind. “He’ll kill you for touching me. Run or die. The choice is yours, sweetheart.” The sentiment slides off my tongue, leaving a vile taste in its wake.

His split-second decision flashes in his eyes, and before I can process it, he’s stepping away from me and rushing out the door.

My shoulders sag with relief as I push up on my elbows and rest against the foot of the bed. Drawing the gun upward, I steady the grip against my forehead and desperately try to calm my breathing. With every inhale, a million razors slice my lungs, begging me to stop.

Lost in everything that has transpired, a chorus of gruff splutters ripple past my lips as the adrenaline disperses. Shock finally immobilises me, hitting me with the weight of a freight train. I’m vaguely aware of the echoed commotion in the hallway, and although my mind begs me to get up and do something, I can’t move.

My eyes weld shut, blocking out everything around me. I fight against the panic gripping my lungs and focus on my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, over and over, until a gentle touch lands on my shoulder, startling me.

My grip on the gun tightens, and my eyes spring open, landing on a familiar boyish face.

“Easy there, Saoirse. It’s only me.” Aodhán’s masculine cadence hovers above me. “It’s okay. He’s gone. I got you,” he continues, keeping his tone gentle and somewhat melodious. Before I can respond to his quiet ease, Aodhán pulls his hoodie over his head and holds it towards me. “You must be freezing. Put this on.”

It takes more effort than I care to admit, but I place the gun on the floor and push my arms through the sleeves, pulling the hoodie over my head and covering my goose-pricked skin. “Thank you.”

I melt into the soft cotton as instant warmth wraps around me. My eyes never leave Aodhán’s as he pushes himself from his hunkers. Following his every move, I survey him as he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and taps the screen before raising it to his ear. “Come on, Rí.”

At the mention of Rohan’s name, guilt swarms through me, attacking my senses like a colony of angry bees.

I’d been so quick to believe my attacker was Rohan. There hadn’t been an ounce of doubt in my mind. He held me under, stealing the life from my body.

Time and time again, Rohan had sworn he wasn’t the villain in my tale, but a part of me always struggled to believe him. How could I when half-truths and pretty white lies were wrapped around every moment we’d spent together? He’d made it easy to fall for Donnacha’s façade. I’m sick of these contradicting feelings and never knowing who or when to trust.

For the first time in my life, I feel alone with nowhere to turn. Everyone around me is withholding information, feeding me just enough that I don’t starve. But also leaving me hungry for more.

I don’t know what to think or how to feel. Sure, Rohan wasn’t the man behind the mask—not this time—but who’s to say he’s not the puppeteer pulling all of my strings?

My arms encase my body, wrapping around me like a proverbial safety blanket. With my eyes still locked on Aodhán, I trail his every move, watching as he buries his free hand in his blond hair. “Pick up your fucking phone, dipshit.” He paces back and forth before trying again. “Fuck! Where the hell is he?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but I’d love the answer. My mind wanders back to this morning when I heard Rohan speaking on the phone with my dad. Could he be part of the scheme to get rid of me? God, why do the questions keep piling up? I need answers. Now.

I decide to keep my cards close to my chest, because even though Aodhán has given me no reason to doubt him, his loyalties lie with his best friend, and for now, I can’t trust anyone. Not even the boy I shared last night with.

So, instead of disclosing what I know, I place my palms on the floor and push myself to my feet. Aodhán’s oversized hoodie drapes over me, hitting the tops of my thighs. Unsure about what to do, I pull the cuffs over my palms and sit on the edge of the bed. My feet ground on the floorboards, and my legs shake as a blast of nervous energy courses through me. In a montage of moments, everything hits me all at once—Donnacha, the bath, the gun. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I nibble on the edge of my thumbnail and zone out, losing myself in my thoughts. I’m vaguely aware of Aodhán’s voice as he softly murmurs into the phone, but I tune him out.

“Hey, look at me. You’re going to be okay.” Aodhán balances on the balls of his feet as he brings himself to my level. “Lorcan is on the way, and he’ll figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Who’s Lorcan?” My words are shaky, barely audible.

Aodhán drops his chin to his chest. “Someone Rohan trusts with his life.”

Unease rolls off me. Do I really need another player entering the game that has become my life? “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

But in true Aodhán fashion, he brushes past the severe expression on my face and shoots a cheeky wink my way. “I’ve known Rohan my entire life. He’s calculating, cruel, and borderline obsessive, but he is also loyal to a fault. And for you, all those traits heighten.”

“Yeah, well, I trusted him with my life, and look where it got me.”

“I know you’re confused and scared. But please believe me when I say Rohan is not the bad guy. He hasn’t told me why he’s so hell-bent on keeping you safe, but our boy is secretive and selective about what he shares, so never doubt that Rohan’s not doing everything he can to protect you.”

I roll my eyes at his little speech. “Oh, yeah. And why not?”

“He’s all in, Saoirse. He’d die before letting anyone touch you. Last night, when everything happened at the party, he chose a side. We all saw it. Rohan went against his father. For you.”

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