Lifeline

I quickly slide the clip out, and not able to stop, I take the gun apart, throwing the pieces to the other side of the room.

Realizing what his plan was all along, I slump back on my butt, horror spilling through my veins. “W-why?”

Closing his eyes, his head falls back against the bed. He rests his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands. I notice the bruises on his knuckles and wonder how he got hurt.

“I can’t do this,” he groans. “You have to leave.”

No way in hell is that happening.

“So you can kill yourself?” With the shock passing, anger rears up in its place. “I was on that yacht too! You don’t see me trying to blow my brains out. What the fuck, Daniel?” I suck in an enraged breath. “Fucking look at me!”

His hands lower, and his eyes lock on mine. There’s so much pain it rips through me with the force of a tidal wave. Moving onto my knees, I shift closer, my first instinct to comfort him, but I catch myself in time. Shaking my head, I close my eyes and whisper, “Why? Tell me why you won’t talk to me. Why are you doing this?”

The tension builds between us. It becomes suffocatingly thick, making my throat strain for air.

“I fucking raped you.” His tone sounds dead to my ears.

It takes a couple of seconds for his words to sink in then my eyes fly open. “Wha –” I shake my head. “What did you say?”

Turbulent emotions explode in his eyes, turning his irises black as night, then he hisses, “I raped you.” He shakes his head, a glimmer of confusion tightening his features even more. “Why talk about it? Why put yourself through the hell?”

My lips part as the shock of his words shudders through me. I shake my head, the pieces finally starting to fall into place. My voice is hoarse, almost breathless, “You didn’t rape me.”

The frown line between his eyes deepens, then he sucks in a breath that sounds painful. “I thought you’re receiving counseling?”

“What does that have to do with this?”

He tilts his head slightly, the confusion deepening on his face. “Don’t you remember what happened on the yacht?”

I’ll never forget.

My expression mirrors his. “I remember.” My eyes narrow slightly. “But I don’t think we remember the same thing.” Then the final piece clicks in place, and the blood drains from my face. Oh, God. Unable to stop myself, I grab hold of his arm, the urgency to rectify the misunderstanding making me ramble, “You didn’t rape me. I tried to signal to you that I was okay with it, but you wouldn’t look at me.”

He shakes his head in disbelief.

I scoot closer, desperate for him to hear me. “You didn’t rape me.” When the disbelief still doesn’t leave his face, I groan, “How could you if it’s the one thing I wanted most in the world.” Past the point of caring about my pride, I let the words free from the cage I’ve kept them in the past year. “I love you.” A freeing sensation rushes through me, and it has me saying, “I love you more than anything. Getting to be intimate with you, even if the circumstances were horrific, was…” Shame clouds the rush, making me spiral down into an ocean of guilt. “I enjoyed it.”

O’Brien’s voice is tight as he asks, “You love me?”

Letting go of his arm, I move to sit next to him, and pulling my knees to my chest, I let out a heavy breath. “Yeah.” Exhausted from everything, the secrets, the pain, the fear, I just want to cry until I dissolve in a puddle of tears. “I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I tried to fight it, but you didn’t make it easy.”

When O’Brien says nothing, I slowly turn my head. He has a look as if he’s putting the secrets of the universe together in his head, then the darkness shutters over his face again. He shakes his head hard. “It doesn’t change a thing.” Lowering his head, he whispers, “I stood and did nothing. I agreed to Rama raping you.” He shakes his head again, looking as if he’s being tortured. “I just fucking stood there.”

The memories of the last hour on the yacht threaten to surface, but I force them down with an iron will. “They would’ve killed you, and that’s the one thing I wouldn’t have survived. Everything else I can deal with, but not losing you.” I swallow hard on the tears pushing up my throat, and my voice is strained, “I just can’t. If you die, I die.”

Chapter 25

O’Brien

This is not how the conversation played out in my mind, and I struggle to wrap my head around it. It’s too much to comprehend after everything that’s gone down between us.