Page 51 of Master

The conviction to stand toe-to-toe with any man… When Liam said it, I never thought that man would be my unhinged, narcissistic brother.

Lying in bed, I press my hands to my eyes and try to hold back the tears, but it’s useless. It’s been two days, and they continue to relentlessly fall from my eyes, cascading down my cheeks so much they sting. I wrap my arms around my knees and pull them tightly to my chest, staring blankly out of the small window as tears start to blur my vision once more.

The hardest part of all of this is that Liam believed Ivan. There was no hiding his rage as it visibly flared up his neck and over his face.

I had secrets. Things that were messy and complicated, things I hadn’t wanted to share with him yet. Sordid details from my past that I wasn’t ready to deal with. I wasn’t ready to open up that much to anyone, to expose the raw, unhealed parts of my heart. The parts of me that Liam was slowly putting back together.

But that didn’t mean I was lying to him. It didn’t mean I wasn’t real with him. I might not have told him my real name, where I came from, or who my family was, but I was myself with Liam.The person I was with him—the one he fell in love with—was real. Everything aboutuswas real.

And now it’s over...

If only I had gathered the courage to tell him sooner… He would’ve been hurt, but not like this. He could’ve forgiven me. But the way he found out—what Ivan made him believe—was a total betrayal and shattered any trust he had in me.

And it’s my fault.

Curling into a ball, I pull my legs tighter to my chest in the hopes my arms might actually help hold me together. But it’s futile. Tears continue to stream down my face and dampen the pillow they fall on as every breath I take suffocates me.

I’ve lost everything…

I wipe my tears, but it does nothing to stop them. I’ve cried so many tears since the club that my eyes are raw and swollen. I’ve spent the last six years of my life enduring atrocious pain, but nothing any of those men did to me hurts like this. This is different. This is deep and all-consuming. It is the kind of agony that leaves me questioning if a life without Liam is even a life worth living.

I need him… I need Liam.

He makes me feel like I am worth something; like I matter. He makes me realize I am worthy of being loved.Ofhimloving me.

My heart feels like it’s shredding into thousands of pieces. I can still feel his hands on my skin. The way he whispered my name in my ear with love and adoration. And the soft promises of a lifetime together as I fell asleep in his arms. The life he wanted to give me.

The life I wanted to live with him.

Everything I wanted—and had—is now a bittersweet dream, while I’m thrust back into the nightmare I ran from. All alone once again with a gaping emptiness in my chest as my entire life comes to a crashing halt.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

LIAM

It’s been a week. Seven agony-laced days since I last saw Sasha or had the warmth of her body curled against mine. I can still hear her sweet laugh and the way she said my name like I was the only person who mattered. It’s funny how time can feel so long and so short at the same time. It feels like I’ve been without her for an eternity.

Our time together might have been nothing more than a string of lies, but it doesn’t make what I’ve lost hurt any less. The pain is still fresh. It leaves me numb, lying in our bed for hours on end, staring at the ceiling, and trying to find what I missed. Searching desperately for everything I should have seen coming.

But there’s nothing…Everything about her was fucking perfect.

“Liam?” Declan’s deep voice echoes around my empty apartment. The soles of his shoes slap along the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walks toward my bedroom.

“I said I’m fine,” I gruff when he pokes his head through the door.

“Maybe, but you look like fucking shit.” He walks into the room with Quinn on his heel.

“Jesus, Li…” she exhales, taking in my unusually disheveled appearance. Grabbing the blankets at the foot of the bed, she hesitates for a second. “Am I going to see more than I’m bargaining for?”

“Not likely,” Declan answers for me, wiggling his pinky in the air. “He’s the runt of the litter, if you catch my drift.”

“Fuck you,” I spit, sitting up and throwing back the covers to lunge at Declan.

“I’ve seen bigger, but it’s not bad.” Quinn winks at me, throwing a pillow at me to cover myself.

“It’s good to see you’ve some fucking fight left in you,” Declan quips, walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Storming after him, holding the pillow to cover myself from Quinn, I growl, “What the fuck are you doing?”

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