36. Declan
I'd seen the headlines from one of the local articles, yet I still refused to believe it when I’d also heard it on the news.
I had Jenni check to make sure my eyes and ears hadn’t been playing tricks on me.
When she confirmed it was true, all I could think about was Brogan.
I had to see him because I knew he’d be going out of his mind.
We’d assumed that she’d up and left on her own, but if there was evidence pointing to foul play versus her being a runaway, then we had a big problem.
As it were, my man was the prime suspect, and he and I both knew that.
It’d been why I’d already been on my way to see Brogan at Sinclair Pharmaceuticals.
When he called me and asked me to meet him at his place, I reversed course and headed straight there.
His voice had sounded strange, so I knew he’d heard about the knife and key. It’d make sense for us to talk it out at his penthouse where there were no prying ears listening to every word. I rushed to his place, and as soon as I walked in, the way he was staring in my direction unnerved me.
I knew something was wrong immediately. Yes, he was tense and on edge, but there was something different—something unrecognizable—in his eyes.
It was like he was looking past me instead of at me, which was not a normal occurrence.
At first, I thought maybe he was disassociating again.
The stress of the weapon found was enough to drive anyone over the edge when they were the prime suspect.
But then he mentioned the cash again. I remembered that he’d previously said he had investigators looking into it, but I'd been so careful.
I'd even created a shell company just so I could evade detection and keep my identity hidden.
I never wanted any traces of it ever coming back to me, but somehow it had.
“It was you, Declan. How in the fuck could you do this to me?”
When he looked at me, I saw the pain in his eyes and it was enough to undo me.
“I-I'm sorry,” I stammered before he closed the distance between us.
A loud, sharp sound pierced the air before fire exploded across my cheek and chin.
I didn’t know what I’d expected from him if he’d ever found out the truth, but the blow he delivered was not it.
My head swung back when his fist made contact with my jaw again, and I quickly moved my hand to rub the assaulted area.
“Brogan, I can explain—”
“Explain what, Declan? How you conspired with Layla to ruin my life?”
“I know this looks bad, but I didn't conspire with any-fucking-body.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “So you decided to fuck up my entire world on your own.”
“No. This wasn’t what was supposed to have happened.”
Brogan struck me again, only this time on the other side of my face.
I was so close to grabbing him so I could make him see reason, but he was too far gone.
His eyes were onyx—dark and glass-like—and the one thing that kept repeating itself inside my head was that I’d driven him to this.
I’d been so worried about his dissociating, but this uncontrolled rage was worse, and unlike the man I knew and loved.
His anger was laced with the pain I’d caused him.
It was too raw… too palpable… and it was warranted.
“I’d only been trying to help,” I tried to tell him, and when his only response was to ball his fist up again, I was prepared and blocked it this time with my forearm.
He fell back and shifted his weight from foot to foot as he stared menacingly at me. This face was one I knew, but those eyes were unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The worst part was that I deserved his anger, even if he wouldn’t let me explain why I’d done it.
“Brogan,” I whispered, hoping my voice would return the man I loved more than my own fucking life. The man I’d give my life for in an instant.
His eyes continued to focus on me, even though there was still a wildness inside of them.
I was about to try to explain once more, but he lunged forward without warning, sending me falling back onto the couch.
As soon as my ass hit the cushions, he was on me, but I was able to roll out from underneath him even though I landed on the floor.
Just like before, he was on me before I could react further.
And this time, he straddled me with all his weight, then started to pummel my face with his fists.
I knew this was bad for filming and the makeup artists at the studio would have their work cut out for them, but I needed to let him expel some of this rage.
Finally, after dodging about a half dozen blows, I was able to grab him and swing him over onto the side. It’d shocked him, so I used the element of surprise to get on top of him and straddle him this time, where I had to remember to hold his arms down.
He stared up at me, and while his normally tanned face was bright red, his eyes were so goddamn empty.
I held his gaze, willing him to see the love I had for him.
We could move past this once he understood my motive.
I was as sure of that as I was anything, so I didn’t waver even when he tried to buck me off him.
If he thought I’d release him, he was wrong.
The only thing it managed to do was make me hard, which I ignored for the time being.
Finally, he shut his eyes and held them closed before he spoke in such a pained voice. “Why did you stop me from doing what I’d wanted to do the other night?”
“Do you really have to even ask that?”
“Did you hold me up just so you could later watch me fall?”
“It isn't what you think it is. Will you fucking let me explain?”
“There’s nothing to explain,” he said as he tried to push me off him again, but I was much too strong with the hold I had on him.
“I did this all for you.”
He laughed at that, and the cracking in it was nearly my undoing. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep easier at night?”
“For fuck’s sake, Brogan. No, I don’t.”
“Then why did you fucking do it?”
“She was so mockingly annoying every time she’d paraded you around like a fucking lap dog.
I saw what it was doing to you. I wanted to help.
Since I knew she was only agreeing to the fake arrangement for money, I’d asked her how much she needed to break things off with you and fuck the hell off.
I never thought she’d fucking disappear and leave town under anything that even looked remotely suspicious.
And, I certainly didn't know she'd set it up to make it look like you had something to do with it. Can’t you see that I did this for you?”
“Bullshit. You did this for you.”
“I did it for us,” I quickly corrected him.
“There is no us.”
“Baby,” I implored, but Brogan turned his head in that moment as he was unable to even look at me. This time, the pain settled into my chest as I stared down at the man I loved. There was nothing there. I'd broken the one good thing in my entire life.
“You're right,” I admitted.
Slowly, I raised myself up and went to step away, but he managed to swing his leg, effectively knocking mine out from under me. I fell back down to the floor. And just when I thought he was going to jump back on me to pummel me some more, he rose to his feet and stared down at me in disgust.
“You fucking make me sick. I hate you, Declan. Get the hell out of my life. Don't call me. Don't come near me. Forget you even know me.”
I’d never heard him speak to me that way, but he had spoken to others in the past like that. He snarled in disgust as I slowly made my way to my feet. “Brogan, I'm not doing that. You’re angry right now, and rightfully so, but I’ve told you that we’re in this together.”
“On the contrary, we’re nothing together. You’d ruined all of that when you put this into motion. Because of you, I’m going to be arrested any minute. And for murder, no less. Murder, Declan, because of you.”
“You have to believe me when I tell you I didn’t know she’d do this. I don't know what happened between the time I’d talked to her and when I’d wired her the money. She’d told me that you two were over. I thought it was the end.”
“It was, for me, only I had no fucking idea because of you. You’ve interfered in my business and look what it’s cost us. It cost me my freedom and life, and you? Well, it cost you me because I hate the very sight of you.”
“Brogan—”
“Did you kill her, Declan?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you hand-delivered me up on a silver platter to whoever fucking did. Congratulations. I hope it was all worth it.”
He was right. Whatever had happened after their breakup, whoever had gotten a hold of her, I’d been so sure she was on an island lounging on the beach sipping Mai Tais and harassing cabana boys.
It was finally dawning on me that she might’ve truly been attacked, or possibly killed, and I'd given them a suspect.
“You have to know I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“But it did, and it's over. We're over.”
“We'll never be over,” I vowed to him. “Do you remember life and death? We're together forever in this life or any—” Brogan didn’t even let me finish as he turned, but not before regarding me a final time as if I was nothing more than a wad of gum on the bottom of his shoe.
As he headed to the door, I swallowed hard. “Where are you going?”
“I need to get the fuck out of here. While I’m gone, get anything of yours and leave. When I get back, anything you left will be burned.”
With those words, he left and I scrubbed my hands down my sore face. I felt the warm stickiness of my blood and I pulled them away.
Goddamit. This was not supposed to happen. I needed to make him see reason, and I would. Chasing after him, I’d just made it downstairs when I came to a stop. There in front of me, an officer had him bent over a squad car with his face pressed against the metal.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights as I’ve just read them to you?”
His wrists were now cuffed, and when they raised him up by his collar, he confirmed understanding, then looked straight at me. When our eyes met, he turned away but not before mouthing “I fucking hate you” before he was stuffed into the backseat of the squad car.
The car drove away right after, and I tried to go down to the police station, but between the press and everything else, it was a fucking mad house.
I couldn't get anywhere near the NYPD. Plus, with my bloodied face, it’d only make things worse for him, and I'd already fucked up his life enough.
I reversed course and went back to Staten Island.
Once he was arraigned, I hoped I could find something to do to help him.
In the meantime, I needed to check in with my investigators in Mexico to see if they'd been able to uncover anything, even though I knew that was unlikely considering what the police had found back here.
Still, if there was any chance that she was out there, now was the time to find her because if I waited any longer, he could be convicted.
I knew he had nothing to do with any violent attack against her.
I didn't know where a knife or a bloody key had come from, but Brogan had nothing to do with it.
The man was lethal… He was ruthless… He was cutthroat…
He wasn't the type of man that one would ever want to cross. Powerful, but with a silent confidence, and it was all gone. I saw his face before he’d turned, and I wouldn't say it was quite fear, but there was such a bewilderment, as if he couldn't believe what was happening.
He was done with me, but I wasn't done with him. I’d never be done with him.
I was still swearing that to myself as I pulled into the garage.
That voice quieted when I realized how unnerving the silence was.
It was deafening. Still, I walked through the house and inhaled the faint scent of his cologne.
I walked into the bedroom we’d shared together and straight to the closet where so many of his things hung, from his suits to casual clothing.
After, I turned and stared at our bed where so many memories had been made. And in the bathroom, I saw his toothbrush and aftershave beside mine. And his cologne. It was as if he was going to come home anytime now.
Facing murder charges, they’d likely keep him locked up.
After all, he was a flight risk. His own lawyer had told him as much, and I wasn't foolish or na?ve.
I also came from a wealthy family, and while not as powerful as the Sinclairs, I understood this world.
Hopefully, Brogan was talking to his father.
Stanley Sinclair might be the only one who could help him in this moment because I sure as hell couldn't. I didn't know what to do.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I stared at everything that reminded me of him.
He was right. I should’ve just let him do what he wanted to do the other night, then followed him into the afterlife.
We deserved to be happy. And Layla, she’d made him so miserable.
He didn’t want her hanging on his arm all the time.
He'd wanted to be with me. All he'd ever wanted was to be with me, and I’d fucked it all up.
And he was right. It wasn't just for him; it was for me because I’d been jealous every time I saw him and her standing hand in hand at various events, being photographed at the opera, dining out at Michelin-star restaurants, but especially on her goddamn fucking social media account.
It was where she’d post selfies with him shirtless in the background even though he’d be lying on the couch smiling at his phone while talking to me.
Those annoying fucking captions. I'd wanted her gone, not dead.
Gone out of his life so he'd only have room for me.
It was now ironic that Brogan had no life anymore because of me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, not sure what the hell to do. What could I do? And then it hit me–Enslee.