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Why has she never looked at me like that?
Because you fucking scared her like you wanted you fucking idiot!!
My mother looks disappointed as she walks towards Gemma and Danny.
Mom knows!! Of course she does!! I wonder if shes intentionally trying to get Declan for Gemma?
Her footsteps are timid. She scrunches her shoulders, like she’s trying to take up the smallest space possible. I hate how much the sight bothers me.
My heart is breaking again... ugghh...
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I look down at the folder she dropped. Blank papers are scattered all over the floor. My mother thinks she’s clever,
Yup. And there it is. Mom is pushing them together 😆😆
“No. These women are beautiful. Watching a broken woman find her wings is beautiful. You don’t know that yet, but you will.”
This made me tear up. All the survivors NEED to hear this.
“How did you know?” “I had a feeling. You look at her the same way your father looked at me in that rinky-dink airport thirty-two years ago. You feel something strong for that girl.”
Knew mom saw something!
Those eyes of her are something else. The feelings they bring out in me are something else. She makes me feel carefree. The weight on my shoulders is lighter when she looks at me. I can only imagine how it would feel to touch her. She can’t hide the shimmer she holds in her eyes. It’s small, but it’s there. Just as clear as I can see desire, I also see pure anguish. My little wildflower has been hurt.
He looks at me. His gaze mimicking the rage of a tornado. It’s clear that letting this man go is the last thing Declan wants to do. I can’t help but love him in this moment. He has no idea how much this has meant to me.
That goes against every instinct I have. My father taught me to never ignore my instincts. And right now, my instincts say that Gemma is or was in some kind of trouble. They’re screaming at me that she knows real pain. That she’s seen the burning inferno of veritable hell. She has demons. If she only knew how prepared I am to cut their hearts out and deliver them to her on a silver platter.
My eagerness to answer her questions and teach her about my world is shocking. Opening up is not my strong suit. But Gemma hasn’t even had to try, and I know I would answer any fucking question she has. Every brutal secret of mine is hers if she wants it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give her.
“Gemma, whatever you’re going through. It doesn’t render you unlovable. If anything, it qualifies you for more love.”
Again, all the survivors NEED to hear this.
You never gave her a reason to be honest.
My heart...
“He’s just a monster. But I’m your monster. You own me, Gemma. You will always own me. I know it just like I know the stars will shine every night, whether or not I can see them. I told you. I would do anything for you, bláth fiáin.”
“Wildflower? Why wildflower?” “Your eyes. At first, I thought it was just because they remind me of the fields back in Ireland. But now I know differently. Your beauty is only partly why you’re my wildflower. Wildflowers are resilient. They’re adaptable. Every year they’re mowed down and every year they bloom again. Just like you.”
When I’m with him, I feel free. With him, I don’t feel like a broken vase taped back together.
“You’re the monster that lives under her bed. Her nightmare.” “And I suppose that makes you the shining knight?” I yank his head up by his hair. “There’s nothing shiny or noble about me.” “Then what are you?” “Vengeance.”
