Page 47 of Corrupted Union

I felt so out of control. So goddamn lost.

And now, I’d hurt the one person trying to help. The man who’d seen my fractured truth beneath the glossy exterior and wanted me anyway.

The shame was too powerful to contain. I was a pulsing ball of pain, wrapped in the chains of my mistakes.

I’d said such hateful things. I didn’t even recognize myself.

I only ever wanted was to do right by the people I cared about, yet I failed repeatedly.

All I could think as I stepped outside onto the deck was that it should have been me. I should have been the twin who died that day.

I deserved to die.

It was all my fault, after all.

All my fault.

Everything was all my fault.

Walking awayfrom Rowan didn’t help the situation, but I’d needed to cool down. The unfortunate part was that she wasn’t the true source of my anger. I was upset with my cousin for getting involved in shit he shouldn’t have. I was annoyed at my dad for thinking my actions revolved around the damn governor. I was furious that Rowan was in danger. And maybe worst of all, I was pissed at myself for lashing out when she’d already been through so much. I should have just been glad she was speaking to me at all, but her insinuation that I only wanted her for access to her father had struck a nerve. It made me wonder if she saw me at all.

I paced in the bedroom for a half hour before I worked through the emotions enough that I was ready to talk to her again and smooth things over. Only, when I went back to the living room, Rowan wasn’t there.

I called her name with no answer.

Unease raised the hairs on the back of my neck just as I spotted her on the back deck.

Fucking hell.

The drizzle out had soaked her to the bone. I rushed outside to where she sat on her shins, eyes cast unseeing toward the ocean. Her entire body shook with cold.

“Rowan, baby. Shit, come here.” I started to lift her, but she clasped my arms to stop me.

“N-n-n-no, you n-n-need to know …” Her teeth chattered so badly she could hardly speak.

“You can tell me inside. I need to get you warm.”

She shook her head insistently, but I ignored her, lifting her into my arms. The touch of her frigid skin against mine had my stomach plunging to my feet.

I ran a warm bath, making sure not to get it too hot. She was so cold, anything above lukewarm would feel like fire. While the tub filled, I stripped the soaked T-shirt and panties from her body. I left her bandaged hand. The bath wasn’t going to get it any more wet than it already was.

Rowan stood shivering without protest throughout. She seemed to be in a trance, and it was freaking me the fuck out.

I never panicked about anything. Even when I was young, I had frustrated, angry outbursts, but fear and panic were never problems. That wasn’t me. Yet this slip of a woman seemed to be rewriting my DNA—making me think and feel things I didn’t know were possible.

My thoughts swarmed furiously, making it impossible to focus.

Why would she do this to herself? Would the bath raise her temperature fast enough? How the fuck did I know if hypothermia had already set in?

Urgency scraped beneath my skin, demanding I move faster.

I undressed, then situated us in the tub with her sitting in front of me, my body cocooning hers. I let the water fill to the brim to cover every possible inch of her. Then I held her. I absorbed her quivering shudders, wishing I could do the same with all the pain she carried with her.

Slowly, her body calmed and relaxed into mine.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into the silence. “I didn’t mean to scare you or be dramatic. Everything I thought I’d dealt with and packed away feels like it’s resurfaced as fresh as the day it happened, making it hard to process everything.”

“No need to apologize,” I urged, my lips close to her ear.

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