56. Ronan
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
RONAN
NOW
She’s so peaceful when she sleeps, even locked up in this fucking cellar.
There have been many times I’ve hated myself over the last decade, but never more than right now.
I let my anger do the talking, and now an innocent woman is paying the price.
It would have been so easy to let her go, to allow her to live the life she always deserved, the one we used to dream of together.
Even if I weren’t there, it didn’t mean she shouldn’t have it.
I’ve been sitting here for an hour watching her sleep, feeling every bit the creep that I look.
I thought she’d wake up when I opened the door considering the god-awful noise it makes, but she’s knocked out.
Whatever Damon drugged her with has taken its toll, and a fresh wave of regret washes over me.
Why did I let this happen?
The sandwich I brought her last night remains untouched beside the mattress, but at least she pulled on the sweater I gave her.
Seeing her in my clothes packs the same punch it did in high school.
Chloe rolls onto her side, her eyes blinking open to meet mine, but she doesn’t startle.
She just stares at me through broken green eyes.
Fuck.
The power she has over me is just as strong as it was when we were kids.
“What do you want?” she mumbles against the poor excuse for a pillow, and I make a note to bring down some better bedding. I’ll have to do it a little at a time so Dad or Damon doesn't see, but it’ll be worth it if she’s comfortable.
I’m sure she’ll be real comfortable when she ends up in the torture room, I think to myself.
It’s an eventuality I can’t work out how to prevent. I believe her when she says she doesn’t know anything about Kingston, but that’s not good enough for my father. Anything short of an exact location won’t satisfy his need for revenge.
“I brought you breakfast.” I nod at the bacon and egg wrap the chef made for her this morning. I wanted to ask for pancakes, but Damon was hanging around.
“I don’t want it.” She rolls onto her other side, giving me her back.
I sigh, running a frustrated hand through my hair. “Chloe, you need to eat.”
“I’m going to die anyway. Might as well go out on my own terms.”
The words hit me in the chest like a wrecking ball, and I struggle to drag in a breath.
She’s been in here for twelve hours, and she’s already giving up. Not that I can blame her.
Escaping once was a miracle. She knows she won’t get so lucky a second time.
Unless…
I cut off the thought before it can spiral out of control. As badly as I want to help her, I can’t. Not without getting myself killed in the process.
That kind of betrayal is always met with death, and being family isn’t enough to protect me.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Can you send Damon down?”
I flinch at the request. She hates him, can’t stand to look at him after how miserable he made her life in her later years of school, and yet she’d rather he question her than me?
“Why?” I ask, a glutton for punishment.
“Because at least he won’t pretend to give a shit.”
The answer hits me right in the chest. Doesn’t she get it? Doesn’t she realize that even after all these years, she’s the love of my fucking life? That once her soul leaves the mortal plain, I’ll be alone until death takes me as well?
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t find my words.
All I can do is stare at her back as sleep drags her under again.
I don’t do as she asked, though.
Instead, I continue to watch her sleep, soaking in every second I have with her, even if she’d rather be with anyone but me right now.