Because I was ashamed.
Ashamed of allowing myself to fall for yet another abusive man.
Sadly, Anton wasn't the first asshole to take advantage of me, but hewasthe first to hit me.
A small whimper escaped when I moved, triggering a wave of agony across my face.
"Pixie girl, do you need a drink?"
Ronan's voice brushed over me like a gentle breeze. If it wasn't for the fact he and his asshole twin had clearly kidnapped meagainstmy express wishes, I'd have swooned a little.
Having them drag me back to the place where I'd come close to having a fucking breakdown was not good for my mental health.
Except nobody knew how close to giving up I'd come that night. I had barely admitted it to myself. Instead, I'd blamed my stupid actions on alcohol.
Everyone had believed my half-assed, incoherent explanation of drunken confusion for why I'd walked into the sea that night. Even Thea.
A gentle hand on my arm brought me back to the present, reminding me I was on a plane rather than asleep in my lumpy bed.
"You drugged me."
Ronan had the grace to look slightly ashamed. For all of 0.001 seconds.
"I need to go back to Italy." If only to collect my stuff. Like my fucking passport.
"Sorry, Pixie. No can do." He perched on the chair opposite, grinning at me. "Declan's orders."
Declan? What did he have to do with this?
"Why were you even in Italy, anyway?" I sat up, doing my best to ignore the pain in my head. Ronan grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open. When he handed it to me, I gratefully accepted.
"To bring you home."
"I don't have a home," I pointed out, choosing to stare at my lap rather than his face. It was less embarrassing that way. He may have forgottenpukegate, but I hadn't. "Apart from a cute studio apartment, the one you forced me to abandon."
My father's estate lay empty, but it had never been my home. And Thea's place in the States was lovely, but it also wasn't my home.
"Yeah, you do. Our home is your home, Pixie.Mi casa, su casa."
"And what am I supposed to do once I get there? I've taken a gap year, remember? That typically means living in new countries, getting drunk, and fucking as many people as possible."
"There will be no fucking or drinking, Pixie," Ronan’s cheerful demeanor slipped to reveal the psycho beneath.
"That sounds shit for you," I mumbled under my breath. From memory, that was pretty much all Ronan did in his spare time.
The fact it just made him even more attractive annoyed the crap out of me. Was I so broken that toxic men waving red flags were the only type for me? It sure seemed that way.
Conal had fewer psychotic tendencies, but nobody would ever make the mistake of calling him a nice guy. And let's be real here - my hormones liked himjust as much.
Fucking hormones.
"Have you told her?" Conal appeared behind his scowling brother.
"Yes, please explain why you fuckheads drugged and kidnapped me!"
"Language, young lady!"
I huffed in annoyance at Ronan's outraged tone. Like he didn't swear. Fucking asshole. I'd learned more bad words from him than Aoife, his sister, and that was saying something considering she had a mouth on her like a blocked sewer.
