Page 20 of Her Outlaw Prisoner
“I always am,” I lie, then slip out the door before she can say anything else.
Outside, the air is cool, the kind that makes you wish you’d worn something thicker, but I hardly notice the chill as I walk toward the main road, my bag clenched tightly in my hand.
I can still hear Gina’s words echoing in my head.
He killed a man, Ellie.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m completely out of my mind for wanting someone like Ronan. But when I’m with him, I don’t feel like I’m in danger.
I feel seen. Wanted. Safe.
Suddenly, a familiar unease crawls up my spine, that bone-deep feeling of being watched. I glance behind me, my heart beating faster than it should.
There’s no one there.
I sight a taxi in the distance. Usually, I would walk the short distance to the bus stop and take the bus home. Instead I flag down the taxi, glancing over my shoulder as it pulls up in front of me. I quickly climb into the back seat, murmuring my address to the driver as I sink into the worn leather.
Still, I can’t shake the overwhelming dread tightening my chest, threatening to cut off my air supply. My fingers curl tightly around the strap of my bag.
Daryl.
His name alone makes my stomach twist. It’s been a long time since I last saw him, but I know how he operates. The silence is his weapon. The waiting. The game of shadows and ghosts.
I shift uncomfortably in the seat and turn my gaze to the window, the city lights blurring rapidly as we pass. Thinking about Ronan distracts my mind from the thought of being followed, so I let my thoughts drift to him.
He asked me to leave with him. I thought it was a joke at first, but there was something serious in his eyes. Something raw and real.
Run away with me.
I mean, it’s insane, right? He’s a convicted felon. He’s still got twenty—no, maybe fifteen if he behaves—more years on his sentence. How could we possibly have a future?
But then I remember the way he touched me. The way he held me like I was breakable and precious. And irrevocably his. The idea of running away together doesn’t feel so impossible. It feels like hope.
A dangerous, foolish, beautiful kind of hope.
The taxi slows at a red light, and I let my head fall back against the seat, letting out a deep breath. My life outside Ronan is a sham. Just shifts and silence and fear. I go home to an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. I avoid social media, never post pictures. I watch my windows. I look over my shoulder.
What kind of life is that?
And then there’s Ronan.
Ronan is rough. Dangerous. All sharp edges and darkness. But not with me…
With me, he’s gentle. Intense. Attentive. Like I’m the only thing tethering him to this world.
I want him. I want everything he can give. Maybe more. But what does more even look like between us? Can there really be a next chapter between a prison nurse and the most feared inmate in the building?
The light turns green. The taxi moves on. But the questions won’t stop chasing me.
When the taxi stops with a low grunt outside my apartment building, I hand the driver a crumpled bill before stepping outinto the street. As I approach the narrow corridor that leads to my apartment entrance, I freeze.
There’s someone at my door.
A tall figure, silhouetted in the dull glow, standing still. Too still. My heart slams into my rib cage, my breath catching painfully in my throat. I take a slow, measured step back.
Daryl.
No. No, please no.
