Page 63 of Between Dusk and Dawn

Enzo stood, but slower than me. "I told you that you can leave, but you just have to take a driver with you."

I crossed the distance between us and grabbed his hoodie. "Please. I cannot be stuck in this house. You don’t understand what it’s like to feel confined to a place with no escape route for me. It brings up so much…fear."

I tried to get him to understand that I needed to be able to drive myself. For a moment, I saw sadness in Enzo’s eyes, but he only backed away.

"Sorry." He shrugged, and the tears started flowing after I thought they’d had enough yesterday.

I whispered, "Please."

He’d trapped me in the house, which was my worst fear. I cried as I curled up on the couch, and the minutes ticked by loudly on the clock in the corner of the room.

"Please. Don’t trap me."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Iheard her through the surveillance footage as I drove toward the Irish compound on the outskirts of Seattle a few hours away.

She cried for over an hour, clutching her knees to her chest. I heard her when she begged Enzo to take her car and go back to Isles. I’d heard her when he explained that for her safety, she couldn’t go.

It was my fault she was in tears, but last night fucking wrecked me, and when she walked out, I knew I needed to get my head back on straight.

I’d never let a woman control me in the bedroom. I’d never allowed a woman to ride me, deciding when and how much pressure and thrusts she needed. When my orgasm blasted through me, the aftereffect of what happened was so intense and terrifying. For once in my life, I gave away the one thing that meant so much to me, and it was fucking terrifying that she saw me bare, raw, and exposed.

"Fuck!" I gripped the wheel tighter, driving faster to my destination.

When I’d come back from the bathroom and she was gone, I knew she felt it too—we both lost control and somehowembedded our souls deep within each other. We were two very lost people desperately trying to live for others, and in that moment, it was the two of us, exposed and vulnerable in front of each other.

When my dad called me this morning to tell me the Irish were expecting me this weekend, I figured I’d fly up a little earlier to clear my mind. I’d asked him if he’d grant me an extension on the welcoming party for Madison, and he agreed that doing it after the holidays was for the better.

Madison was in my life now, regardless of the decision to marry her being impulsive. I needed to protect her and keep her safe.

The only way I knew how to do that was to keep my distance. Because when I was around her, I fell apart. She needed to stay away from me, and I’d protect her because I vowed to, but that meant protecting her from me.

As long as she was far away from me, I could keep her safe. Because it seemed like everyone in my life was always in the line of danger. When I was dating Cagen, although it was technically her fault for running into the bonfire, she was struck.

This time, though, the danger was me. I was the one Madison needed to be separated from because I was unraveling. I’d lost all semblance of control in my life and needed to make sure I got a better hold of it before I came around her again.

I ran my hand through my hair as I drove toward the hotel I was staying at. "Fuck."

It was like a game of tug of war with my heart. I knew what I wanted to do, which was be home with her, but I felt after we were together and she ran away that I would only keep hurting her more if I was around.

I closed my eyes, holding them shut for a moment too long. Aside from keeping her safe from the biggest demon—myself—Ialso needed to safeguard her from the outrage they would have when they found out I would not be marrying one of their own.

I would be arriving early and didn’t plan on coming back to the house for a while, which is why I kept Enzo as her guard, bringing two of my father’s men with me to deal with the Irish.

Chapter Twenty-Five

He had been absent for three days. If not for Enzo relaying Walsh's directive that I should eat at every meal, I might have thought he was dead or had abandoned me.

When he left, I promised myself to remain sober. Since Isles, alcohol had been off-limits; masking my demons with it was no longer an option. I wanted to change and was genuinely trying, but his absence pulled me toward the bottle. To resist, I focused on keeping myself distracted, often resorting to sleeping for most of the day.

This was a familiar punishment, reminiscent of the way he treated me years ago. He'd freeze me out, toss me aside and blatantly ignore me, leaving me engulfed in my own guilt. I was trying hard not to let history repeat itself, but each passing day made it more challenging. I struggled to get out of bed, lingering there until well after noon. Had it not been for Ms. Luchesse banging on my door, insisting on cleaning my small apartment, I might have spent the entire day in bed. If he wasn’t going to invite me into the house, then I wasn’t going.

I was gradually becoming a mere shell of my former self, and I despised it. I had checked my email the previous day and learned that my professors agreed to let me finish the semesteronline. Primarily focused on completing my dissertation, they deemed it acceptable for me to conclude my classes remotely after holiday break.

However, with this significant gap, I found myself with nothing to occupy my time until then. As Ms. Luchesse bustled about in the living room, I grabbed a pair of sweats and a hoodie. My usual sources of self-confidence, my hair and makeup, were being neglected, and I didn't feel good about myself—because, truthfully, I didn't feel well at all.

I was about to go to the main house when Ms. Luchesse, who was vacuuming the front room in the apartment, grabbed my elbow. I glanced back at her and glimpsed at my face in the reflection of the window behind her.

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