Page 176 of Quinlan

I should’ve gone to her faster. Not as her lover—I haven’t felt anything romantic for her for years.

As her guardian.

I thought I’d been that person for her, and I failed.

No matter. I’m fixing it.

The three of us started helping her through this together.

We’re finishing it tonight.

Right after I get to her.

First.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Quinlan

This incessant pounding willbe the end of me.

My head. It’s a mess. My eyes are mashed into my palms, puffy and still wet from crying. The tears have only subsided a couple of minutes ago.

I haven’t been able to get up from my desk since.

Sending that email to my parents hurt like a motherfucker. I had to do it, and I did.

I just had no idea how painful it’d be. Burying the ache in my chest only worked for so long. Working, fucking and being cared for by my captors, it healed some pieces of my bleeding heart.

Until I wrote the damn email.

There was a sense of finality in the words I typed out to my parents. Of a closure I wish I never had to experience.

In some ways, it would’ve been easier if I’d kept believing Blake’s death was all my fault. I made my peace with it. Gotten used to it. The weight of the guilt has been all I’ve ever known.

This, all of this, it’s new.

My family sacrificed me.

That’s a fact. That’s my closure, and it’s left me hollow.

There’s no joy in a tragedy. No relief at the dark, bitter end of the tunnel.

I guess that truth is worth something. I just don’t feel it.

A dire, unhinged laugh escapes me. Out of everyone, my kidnappers opened my eyes to it. They forced me to navigate through what’s real and what’s not.

They watched me shatter into a million pieces, then picked what was left of my soul off the ground and nursed it back to sort-of-health.

Parts of me haven’t healed. I don’t imagine they ever would.

But I feel like I’m able to go on with my life. I have a purpose. A new one.

To help my three men.

My chest heaves again, fresh waves of tears rising. This annoying, unwelcome sting, prickles at the corners of my eyes. I press my fingers to my closed eyelids, forcing them away.

People hurt them. My half-brother hurt Damien.

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