Ruining Me (The Insidious Seven MC #2)
Prologue
PROLOGUE
DECLAN
FOUR MONTHS AGO
“Declan!” The distant, masculine roar of my name barely registers within my smoke-filled brain as I raise my booted foot and kick the door to the house that has become fully engulfed by flames. It groans under the pressure, snapping and popping under the strain, yet it still holds on tightly. The heat from the inferno slowly escaping the house threatens to melt my leather jacket into my skin as I step back and try again, consumed by my quest to enter this death trap instead of escaping it.
This time, when my heavy black boot slams into the door, it buckles and splinters, finally giving way for me. The door explodes as it caves in, flying open with such force that it rattles what's left of the walls just behind it. Flames and burning embers fly in my face. Quickly, I raise my arm to shield my eyes and step forward.
The far-off roar of Liam calling my name is nothing but a faint whisper amidst the deafening scream of the hell I find myself in. Only it’s not hell's demons who drag me into this abyss, but rather my own selfish desire. I am driven by the need to find the body I’m sure to discover.
I must find her, even if all that remains are charred remnants.
Sweat gathers along my brow, but the sheer heat from the fire evaporates it before it has a chance to trickle into my eyes. All around me, flames lick and lap at the inside of this once-pristine house. I’ve been inside this place more times than I can count, memorized every detail about it just as surely as I have the small female who resides within. But as I look around now, I see only remnants of the home that she so loved.
The dark green walls, all but burnt and blackened to a crisp. The golden fixtures adorning those walls are no longer sparkling with their usual luster, as they’re scorched by flames that seem to have been conjured straight from hell. The small kitchen at the back of the house has become nothing more than a white-hot inferno.
Everything that this house used to be because of her is gone, erased by one devastating event that’s sure to change us all. But even still, I charge into the house, my boots thudding heavily against the quickly deteriorating dark wooden floors as I run toward the stairs.
“Sofee!” I yell as I grab the banister before flinging myself around the sharp corner and taking to the stairs. Glancing up toward her room, I notice the entire ceiling upstairs is engulfed in bright blue flames. Almost beautiful in the way they seem to dance against one another. Fear trickles down my spine as if death is dragging its claws against my exposed, raw nerves as I look for any signs of life. When I see nothing besides the flames writhing against one another, I sprint up the stairs, taking them two at a time in my rushed attempt to save the girl who occupies my mind as fully as the flames devouring her home.
Just as I reach the second-floor landing, my leg crashes through the weakened wood at the top. Throwing my arms out, I barely catch myself against the fiery walls before I crash completely through the floor. My arm punches through the weakened wall, and pain flares immediately. The fire is so intense and uncontrollable at this point that it only takes a short moment for the flames devouring the drywall to eat through my leather jacket and sear the skin below.
Roaring in pain, I pull my arm out of the wall forcefully and clutch it to my chest. As the embers fly around me, I shield my eyes once more. The nauseating smell of charred flesh fills my nostrils as the burning sensation only intensifies. My chest heaves as my heart climbs my throat. My arm throbs, but it’s not as agonizing as the panic coiling around my spine and slowly squeezing me to death. Closing my eyes, I try to block it out. Shutting down the agony and terror. Pushing myself to continue in my nearly failed attempt at saving a woman who despises me.
As I open my eyes and grit my teeth, I attempt to free my foot from the floorboards, but I seem to be pinned in place. I pull my leg with everything I have and avoid bracing myself against the blazing walls I’m surrounded by. The flames lick at my skin, leaving me no means of avoiding the inevitably worsening burns.
Reaching down with my uninjured arm, I pull on the hot, charred wooden planks in a mad attempt to free myself from the imminent fiery death I’m sure to meet. My breath escapes me in sharp puffs as my lungs tighten, craving the fresh air they’ll never find in a place like this. The mask covering my nose and mouth helps filter out the smoke, but there is no clean air left in this hellhole to breathe. I cough and sputter as I yank on the splintered boards.
The smoke burns my eyes, causing them to water and cloud as I continue to hack and cough. My strength is waning fast, but I keep trying to break free from the boards trapping my foot. As they stubbornly refuse to budge, I fear that time may be running out, especially as the house's creaking and groaning grow deafeningly loud.
“Declan!”
At the faint sound of my name falling from feminine lips, I jerk my gaze around toward the entrance of the house. As if my soul recognizes the whispered sound through the screaming of the flames, my chest tightens as I search for her.
Sofee .
My vision tunnels out as I stare toward the open front door, seeking any signs of life. Relief threatens to blanket me, but I hold it at bay. She may not be in this death trap, but I still am.
The need to see her safe and whole rides me hard as I use both hands to grasp the wedged boards blocking my way to her. Coughing involuntarily as my body instinctively switches to survival mode, I desperately claw at the boards with determination. Exerting so much effort that my vision starts to blur at the edges. My palms scream for reprieve as I pull the board holding me captive. It groans under the pressure, sending a brief surge of triumph through me. Just. A. Little. Further.
“Declan, please!”
The desperation in her voice unlocks some dark part of my soul I didn’t know existed as a fury like I’ve never felt before overtakes me. Using all the strength I have left in my body, I roar in anger and pull. The wood plank trapping me pops and cracks before finally giving way in an explosion of splinters and ash.
My vision seems to hyperfocus as I fly back down the stairs. Barely feeling the pain as my burnt arm is licked by more flames, I rush for the front door. Thick clouds of black smoke lead the way, searching for an escape from this hellfire just as desperately as I am. Only it’s not just freedom from this perdition that I’m seeking.
Even though my feet feel steady, I stumble toward the door. The lack of oxygen is making it hard to move my legs. The smoke swirling all around me seems to have settled deep in my lungs. I wheeze and cough as I finally set foot back onto the smoldering porch, trying desperately to purge the soot lodged within. Staggering toward the banister, I wonder if I’ll be able to make it down the short steps without passing out first.
And then I hear it. It’s quiet, barely audible over the whistling fire at my back. A small feminine gasp that has every fiber in my being pulling toward it. My chest is still heaving heavily as my eyes finally lock onto the small light I came here in search of. And all at once, a different kind of fire lashes me.
There she stands, dressed for bed in her too-short shorts and a threadbare t-shirt. Her small feet, bare against the muddy grass of her front lawn. Though her hair is wild as if she just woke up, the rest of her looks barely ruffled for just having survived a house fire. Her brows are furrowed, and her deep chocolate eyes are wide as she meets my gaze. Fear and anger swirl together within the brown globes as she stares at me.
She pushes against the cop in front of her in an attempt to reach me, just as a couple of firefighters flank me on either side, trying to redirect me to a nearby ambulance. I shrug them off, feeling desperation coursing through my veins in a way I haven’t experienced in a long time. My feet, once heavy and almost immovable, now move with purpose as my stumble turns into a walk, then a jog. Then there is no stopping me as I rush toward my secret obsession.
She tries to push out of the officer's grip again, but he holds her firmly as he meets my gaze. The monster that always lurks beneath the surface of my skin snarls and writhes at the thought of this man keeping her from me. I allow the beast to emerge as I stare down the younger man and revel in the way his eyes widen before finally releasing her.
As his hands leave her, I rush to her side. I crowd her quickly, the scent of rose petals filling my senses and washing away the smell of burning flesh and death. Not allowing myself the luxury of basking in her fragrance for too long, I search her for any visible burns or injuries. Gripping her wrists first, I inspect her bare arms before sliding my soot-covered hands upward. Our eyes meet as my hands reach her neck and the opposite cheek. She leans into me and closes her eyes in a way that soothes the monster within. My thumb brushes against her skin as I breathe her in for a moment. Settling my ravaged nerves with the realization that she’s here, that she’s alive and whole.
I lean into her until our bodies are almost touching, like my chest aches for. I want to pull her to me so there is no space between us. Want to fill my arms with her, and surround myself in a light that only she can offer. But I resist.
“You're alright? Are you hurt?” I ask in a rush. As if my question brings her out of a haze, she straightens her back and pulls away from me. Her lips tighten and curl as she meets my stare again. Her eyes widen with bewilderment in a condescending way that makes me want to laugh.
“You just ran into a burning house and asked me if I'm alright? Are you a fucking idiot?” she screeches as she grabs my forearms and pulls them down. Her fingers graze across the burn. Pain flares and shoots up my arm, causing me to wince, but I ignore it as best I can while watching her assess me. I don’t dare pull away from her yet; her attention is too addicting.
“Oh, Declan,” she gasps.
The way her lips part almost has me entranced until movement to my left draws my attention. Glancing over, I catch sight of my brothers still behind the police barricade. All of them are standing in the road and staring at Sofee and me. And in the middle of them all stands my best friend, Liam, Sofee’s brother.
As if seeing Liam awakens my better judgment, I flip a switch inside my mind and straighten away from his little sister. With a quick, jerky movement, I yank my arms out of her hands. Glaring down at her, I finally lower my mask and settle it against my throat.
“We need to get you to the hospital,” she says as she looks up at me, deep concern pouring from her in palpable waves. Making me want to let her take care of me just so I never have to see this look in her eyes again. But I force myself to shut that part of myself off, leaving a part of my sanity behind as I tear my eyes away from her and start walking toward my brothers.
“I'm fine,” I lie.
She refuses to let me get away that easily, grabbing the front lapel of my jacket and frowning up at me. “No, you're not. You need to be seen by a burn sp?—”
“I said I'm fine. Drop it, Brat.” I cut her off with a wicked sneer marring my lips. Her lips curl, and a deep red flush crawls up her neck as I utter the words. Normally, I enjoy this little game we play. The one where I make her hate me just a little more than the last time I saw her. Maybe I’m sick for it, but seeing that fire only I can bring out in her does something for me. But this time, I don’t feel that familiar thrill rushing through my blood as I spar with her.
Her anger straightens her back as she finally drops her hands. “Fine, estúpido —” she starts firing off a string of Spanish obscenities as she turns her back to me and marches toward the rest of the MC. I can’t help but watch her every move before silently following after, with the irrevocable sense that our lives will never be the same haunting each one of my steps.