47. Declan
MaryClaire’s shoe yields pieces of Ivan’s brain as she turns to walk back to Taylor. He wraps his arm around her protectively. Ryder seeks out Devina and pulls her into a tight embrace.
My eyes scan the layer of death that has been sprinkled on the deck. This is my fault. This is my fault.
Hannah.
Scarlet.
Devina.
I couldn’t save them. I can’t save them. I brought this on us all because of the fucked up world we live in. The world our fathers created for us to reign.
This has to end.
“Take the girls,” I order to Taylor and Ryder, “I’ll get this cleaned up.”
Walking past me, Devina pauses to look up at my face. She is resilient. A vision of grace. Pure fire, but a graceful one. Reaching up, she scratches the hair on my jaw. This time, I don’t shy away. I pull her into my arms and look up, silently thanking whoever is responsible for keeping her safe. It sure as hell wasn’t me.