I follow Declan up the metal steps, my hands becoming clammy the further I climb from being able to see through the diamond pattern on the steps. I hate heights. At the top of the steps is a short walkway that's railed off on one side, leading to rooms. There are huge, boarded-up squares between the doors that I assume used to be windows for the offices. Walking past the doors, I quickly glance inside and see scattered clothes and mattresses laying on the floor of each room. This must be where they sleep.

Declan's is the last one at the end of the hall. He stops at the door and holds his arm out with his helmet still in his hand, to tell me to go inside. I hug my arms around myself tighter and take in a deep breath to try and calm my nerves.

Reluctantly, I walk inside. Everything is thrown around chaotically. His clothes are all over the floor, some hanging out of trunks that are pushed against one of the walls. The bed is only a mattress on the floor with blankets and pillows messily spread over it. The only other thing in the room is a plastic foldable table that has files and more computer monitors on it, all with the same grainy, greenish-grey security camera footage.

His black MacBook is on his bed, surrounded by a bunch of papers and file folders. Seeing the folders spark images of his signature to flash behind my lids, making my stomach turn to knots. Declan closes the door behind him, the click of the striker echoing in the small space.

He works to take off his body armor, tossing it to the floor where it lands with a loud thud from its weight. His black hoodie that's underneath is ripped and stained, his pants aren't in any better shape. Taking the gloves from his hands, he fidgets with them for a moment before squeezing them tightly.

"Is this nicer than the abandoned hospital?" He asks, his tone hopeful.

Bemused, I scrunched my brows. I still wasn't looking at him. I couldn't, but I move my eyes so I can at least see him from my peripheral vision. "What?"

"That night at The Atlantic. You said the next time I kidnap you, you hope I take you somewhere nicer than an abandoned hospital." I see his smile as he thinks back to our dinner at The Atlantic... right before he had my dad killed. Taking in a deep breath I try so desperately to not relive that memory at the hospital. It feels like that night was a lifetime ago, yet the wound of losing my dad is still so fresh.

"Please look at me," he begs softly, taking a cautious step towards me.

I shake my head, closing my eyes. If I look at him I'd see all the blood.

Declan sighs. "Nick planted that file in my apartment. He broke in when I left to get us food. He heard you in the shower and made sure you'd see the file."

Again, I shake my head, keeping my eyes glued to the cinderblock wall in front of me. He's lying. He lied to me the whole time. He never had feelings for me, he was just using me.

"Goddamn it, Scarlett, why do you have to be so stubborn?" He groans.

"How the hell do you expect me to just believe you?!" I shoot back. My hands ball into fists, feeling the anger start to build inside me. "You kidnapped me, you drugged me and kept me locked in a hospital room. You killed my father! You've done nothing but lie to my face about everything!"

"Lie to you?" I hear the grip he's trying so hard to keep on his emotions starting to slip. He spikes his gloves on the ground, crossing his arms over his chest, his breathing becoming louder from his rising anger. "Please, elucidate. Tell me exactly how I lied to you."

Finding my resolve, I turn to face him. "You told me that you had my dad protected. You said you 'put the word out' that every one of your soldiers was supposed to protect him but it was you," I point my trembling finger at him, "who signed his death sentence. I remember being so confused; asking you why the hell they didn't take him to surgery right when he came to hospital." I scoff, slapping my hand to my head, squeezing my forehead in frustration then letting it fall back to my side. "It's because you wanted him dead. That's why. You lied to me."

He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off. I'm fuming. My anger has sparked a fuse in me and I'm getting close to blowing up in his face. Months of pent-up rage and trauma is finally coming to a head.

"You said you would never hurt me, but that night in the alley, when you forced your gun in my hands and kept yelling at me to kill," I can't bring myself to say his name out loud. "My mind has been fucked ever since... You didn't just hurt me, Declan, you destroyed me!"

"Jay deserved to die!" Declan seethes through gritted teeth. "He deserved so much worse for what he did to you. And I stand by what I said to you that night, think of all of the girls who weren't so lucky."

My eyes are burning with tears of rage and I'm fighting so hard to hold them back but it's proving to be useless. I step towards him and slap my open hands against his chest, trying to push him back, to put some space between us but it's futile. He's immovable, which only made me more indignant. My open hands turn to fists as I keep hitting his chest.

"You said you would protect me, keep me safe. Where the hell have you been the last five months, Declan? I was rotting in that hellhole!"

"Fighting for my fucking life!" Declan's voice thunders through the small space. His hands grab hold of my wrists to stop me, his patience finally snapping.

I hold my ground, not flinching at his outburst or when he straightens his spine so that he's craned above me in an attempt to make me feel small. He lets go of my wrists when I stop struggling. I narrow my eyes up at him and cross my arms over my chest, letting him speak.

"Desmond and Nick are working with the Bratva. They're trying to take over the deal with Wyndham to edge out the Russians so they can get Z and the profits. That night at Wyndham tower, they tried to kill me. Desmond handed me over to Anatoly. With me out of the way, they could get to you and the fucking thumbdrive." His nostrils are flaring, his chest rising and falling with every ragged breath he takes. Stepping back from me, he starts to pace back and forth. His hands shoot up to his sweat-soaked hair to grab fistfuls of it, tugging hard.

"FUCK!" He bellows, letting go of his hair. "He was like a father to me! I handed my life over to him, I was his loyal fucking dog for years. I did everything he ever asked and he handed me over to our enemy so they could kill me.

"He has the whole goddamn syndicate against me and the boys. They've orders to kill us on sight. They burned my apartment building to the ground. They blew up the apartment building Paul, Ben and their families lived in– blamed that on a gas leak. Noah's landlord was tipped off about his brother being addicted to coke. Cops were on the way to arrest them both but I got wind of it and told Noah to stay the fuck away. His brother was in the apartment when they arrived and has been in jail since, being tortured by Desmond's guys in hopes of drawing out Noah. We've been hiding here for months, watching them do everything in their power to destroy everything we have and hurt everyone we love!" His jaw clenches while he holds my burning gaze. His breathing is finally starting to calm and his voice lowers.

"I never lied to you. I didn't tell you right away because I was still trying to put the pieces together and I was trying to keep you safe. The less you knew the better. It might have been a hellhole, Scarlett, but it was the safest place for you."

I try to let everything he just said sink in, but I'm still buzzing with ire. "Isn't that ironic; keeping me safe with lies just like your mother."

Declan's lips turn down into a scowl. His eyes darken, the muscles of his jaw ticking under his skin. "Excuse me? You want to say that again?"

"Your mother has been lying to you for years. Maybe you should ask her for the truth about your dad!" My hand clasps over my mouth, my eyes widening when I process my own words. I regretted it as soon as I said it. In a few words, I not only betrayed Shelly's trust but I just pushed Declan down a path I can't pull him back from.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Shaking my head, I cross my arms back over my chest and turn away from him. "Nothing."

"No," he said, taking a step closer to me. The expression on his face turns sinister, like that night at the hospital when he learned Nick was trying to have his way with me. I can still hear the sounds of his fists pummeling Nick's face in my head. My stomach drops seeing that rage now directed at me. I shuffle back to put some space between us but Declan matches it and steps forward until he's backed me against the concrete wall. "Tell me what you think you know."

My hands fall to my sides, my fingers splaying against the wall. I look past Declan to the door, gauging the best way to escape, but he cages me in, placing both of his hands beside my shoulders.

"Declan, please–" His fingers latch tightly around my jaw, tilting my head up so I'm looking at him. My mouth turns dry, my heart sinking inside my chest. The tension is so thick between us that I'm struggling to breathe.

"Tell. Me." He seethes, his voice eerily quiet.

"You're hurting me." I manage to say, despite his fingers digging painfully into my jaw.

His nostrils flare as he holds me for a moment longer then lets go, pushing himself away from me. I grab at my face, opening and closing my mouth, massaging my skin to try and ease the discomfort. Jesus Christ, I need to leave. I can't be here with him.

"Please, I need to leave. I-I can't stay here..." I beg but it falls on deaf ears.

"Tell me!" He bellows, making me flinch and grab ahold of myself like that will somehow protect me from his rage.

"Desmond killed your father!" I scream. My whole body's trembling so violently, I swear my legs are going to give out. "Your... your mom told me that he and Desmond used to be friends. That your dad was in line to be the next head of the family and th-that Desmond was jealous."

"No." Declan speaks, his voice so quiet that I barely hear it.

"D-Desmond killed your dad."

"Shut up!" Declan shouts.

His anger finally boils over. He loses control of himself and his emotions. He growls until it turns into a scream, kicking the steel tips of his boot into his bullet proof vest that was on the ground. His boots making loud thuds as it hit against the kevlar plates of the vest. He moves to the table, swiping off all of the files, sending papers flying into the air and pens to bounce and skid across the floor to my feet.

I stay pressed against the wall, afraid to make a sound, thinking that he'd turn his rage on me. Sweat is starting to coat my body from my fear. I'd seen Declan angry before, his tight hold on his emotions had slipped in the past but nothing like this. He grabs at his hair again, tugging on it while he paces back and forth a few times then stops. I watch as his shoulders rise and fall while he heaves in breaths of air.

After a few moments, he straightens his spine, slowly turning to face me. My stomach drops as his eyes meet mine, pinning me in place. Running a hand down his own sweaty face, his features go back to the cold expression I remember from when I had first met him.

"You're going to fucking listen to me, Scarlett. I have never once lied to you. I told you everything about your family. You choose not to believe me, so I showed you who they were. I did not have your father killed, those orders came from Nick. The doctor in the ER that night was working for the Russians. He was ordered to do everything in his power to let your dad die. Nick planted that file in my apartment that night and I have the video evidence to prove it to you. Get that through your thick fucking skull."

Tears well in my eyes remembering that night. How everyone just seemed to be standing around while my dad needed to be saved. I remember the blood spraying from his mouth, coating the inside of the oxygen mask as he gasped for air, drowning in his own blood.

Declan slowly closes the space between us as he continues.

"I have kept you safe through all of this. I saved you from Nick. I was at your side the moment Jay saw you at Club Se7en. I was there that night when your scumbag friends took you to that bar where Jay drugged you. I saved you from overdosing. I kept you safe when Alex was coming for you the day you found the thumbdrive. I had you protected at the gala. As I said, you might not have liked it, but Portland Asylum was the safest place for you. I have never let anything bad happen to you."

He's in front of me again, his breathing even, despite his exhausted tone. He reaches out, placing his hands on my arms, gently moving them up and down. I flinch away, my eyes tightly closing but he keeps his hands on me.

"Do you remember what I told you that night, before you broke my nose and left the apartment?" He asks, his voice so low I can barely hear him.

I try to speak. I open my mouth, forcing the words to come but my fear has coiled around my throat making it impossible. All I can manage is shaking my head no. Declan's mask falters for a split second. His brows pull together and his lips part as if he's hurt that I answered no, but he quickly shoves it away. His hands fall from my arms, falling back at his sides.

He takes in a sharp breath through his nose, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before he lets it go. His eyelids flutter closed, his eyes rolling under them. Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighs, chuckling. The moment his hand leaves his nose, his head dips back so he's looking at the ceiling, laughing bitterly.

"You're sleeping here," he said, not looking at me.

"I can't stay here," I repeat. I didn't mean in this room, I mean in this building, with him. I can't be around him.

"There is a shower down on the other side of the building," he continues, turning on his heel and walking to the door. "I have some of your clothes in the trunk over there in the corner."

"Declan,"

"I'll be down on the couch, far enough to give you space but close enough to keep you safe. As I always have."

"Goddamn it, Declan, listen to me!" I yell.

He speaks with his back to me. "Don't try anything cute. This place is on lockdown and not just to keep people out."

The moment Declan slams the door behind him, my knees finally buckle. I crash to the ground, grabbing my face as I sob.

"Fuck," I groan, trying to stop my tears. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

My head is spinning from everything that just transpired. A few hours ago I was trapped inside an asylum, being threatened with assault if I didn't give up Declan's whereabouts to being kidnapped for a second time by Declan. I was freed from one prison just to be thrown into another.

How the fuck has my life come to this? Can't I go back to being blissfully unaware of all of the messed up things that went on around me? Hell, even if I do get away from Declan, there's no way I can ever go back to a normal life. I'll forever be on the run from all of them.

My brain starts picking apart every word that was just said between us, twisting and over analyzing everything he said. Then the self hatred rolls over me in waves.

I hate myself for throwing his mother's secret in his face like that, for having to tell him about his dad. I hate myself for not fighting harder to get out of here. I didn't even try, I just let him walk out and slam the door behind him. But most of all, I hate how despite everything that's happened, despite every conclusion I came to in the asylum while writing out and reliving what happened to me over the last year, I still love Declan Byrne.

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