"He's going to get hurt," I choke out."Declan's going to kill him.I know it.I know?—"
"No," Chloe says firmly."Tank is one of the most capable men I know.He can handle himself."
"But what if?—"
"No what ifs.Just breathe.In for four.Come on."
I try again.This time it works.Slightly.
In.Hold.Out.
Again.
And again.
Slowly, the panic recedes, leaving me exhausted and hollow but breathing.
"There you go," Ailbhe murmurs."That's it."
"I can't lose him," I whisper."I just found him.I can't..."
"You won't," Caoimhe says from nearby."These boys always come home.Always."
"How do you know?"
"Because they have us to come home to," Mallory says."And they're too stubborn to die."
I want to believe them.Want to trust that Devin will walk back through that door.
But all I can think about is Declan.And violence.And everything going wrong.
They settle me into Devin’s room eventually.I lie on the bed fully clothed, staring at the ceiling, too wired to sleep.
Devin's out there.Hunting Declan.Or being hunted by him.
And I'm here.Useless.Terrified.
I pull out my phone.No messages.No calls.
Nothing.
I clutch it to my chest and close my eyes.
"Please come back," I whisper into the dark."Please."
But the silence offers no answers.
Just fear.And waiting.And the crushing weight of not knowing.
17
TANK
Imake it halfway to my bike before the guilt hits.
Leaving her.Walking away when she's terrified and shaking and begging me not to go.The look on her face when I pulled away.Pure fear.Not of Declan.Of losing me.
My chest aches.
