1. Paige

1

PAIGE

One month ago

"Paige!" a familiar voice screams from the distance with fear so clear it almost strikes me in the face.

Declan?

I'm about to get in my car after a little shopping spree, but my eyes fly to him.

Declan, Gray, and Jimmy are running toward me, guns drawn.

What are they doing? Are they insane?

Declan is waving his hand. "Get down! Get the fuck out of the way!"

I frown.

Out of the way? Of what?

Takes a second for the words finally click, but when they do, I lie down, belly to the floor, and cover my head with my arms.

Oh god, oh god, what is going on?

Gunshots start going off all around me, making me flinch and cower.

I can't stay here. I need to get to my brothers, they'll protect me.

Lifting my head to locate them, I use my elbows and legs to start crawling their way.

My leg is yanked upward and back, and pain radiates from my chin as it hits the ground.

I kick and flay and try to hold on to any part of the floor I can, but there is nowhere to grip.

Pain rips through me as my head is pushed back, and my hair is ripped by the roots.

A scream rips out of me, but it comes out thin and reedy to my ears instead of strong. I don't even know if my brothers can hear me.

And out of nowhere, pain explodes in my eye.

Son of a bitch, he punched me.

The pull on my hair intensifies.

The pavement scrapes my hands and knees, but I can barely feel the sting, too focused on trying to escape.

I can't think, can't breathe.

Is this one of Murphy's men?

I look at the guy hauling me, and he has a red beard and only one eye. I heard of him, even if I can't remember his name to save my life, which I really need right now, but my focus is on the hand in my hair, the way it drags me across the street.

I'm fighting tooth and nail, scratching and kicking, but it's like I'm nothing I do even affects him.

He is too strong, His hand is too tight around my hair,

I'm never going to get away.

Declan and Gray won't be able to save me.

No one will be able to save me. Once he gets me in that van—it's over .

He slams me against the van, and I crumble to the floor, black dots filling my vision.

Stay awake, Paige. You can't pass out, please. If you do, you're dead.

More gunshots ring out, and a man screams, but it all seems so far away.

I try to shake it off, but the world is fading around me. All sounds are under water, my body weighs a thousand pounds, and my eyes lids weigh even more than that.

My hair is yanked on again, but the pain is almost dulled.

I'm numb. Unfeeling. Unresponsive.

Doomed.

The hand pulls me to my feet, hauling me toward the open side door of the van.

I have to react, to fight!

I flail, kicking, biting, scratching, but I'm too weak.

More gunshots. More people shouting. A thud behind me.

I'm crumbling to the floor again, his hand no longer holding me.

And then Declan is there, kneeling before me, hauling me up.

I wilt against him. "Is it safe?"

Now

"I told you I'm fine, Lara. Why can't you believe me?"

"I do, sis. But I was also there last week when you woke up screaming during our sleepover. I have a right to worry."

I sigh .

She does have a right to worry. And though I refuse to tell her, she also has every reason to.

I'm such a mess. But I refuse to also be a burden. Refuse to let what happened to me take a bigger hold in my life.

A little over a month ago, all I could think about was when I'd get my first boyfriend, when I'd finally be able to lose my virginity, which was becoming an embarrassment at my age.

When I'd be able to find love. Get married. Have a family of my own.

Now? All I want is to have a dreamless night. To be able to go outside my door and not be paralyzed, stuck in that moment, terrified that it will happen again.

"I know, I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you know if I need anything. Deal?"

She huffs. "Fine. I'll hold you to that."

I smile. I love my sister to death. All my siblings.

"Fine. Now it's time to get some rest. I can barely keep my eyes open." Which is not a lie, but I won't be closing them if I have any say in it. No way do I want to get thrown into that day again.

"Bye, sis. Love you."

"Love you, too, Lara. And thank you."

Her voice softens. "Any time, Paige."

As soon as the call is disconnected, I fall on my back on top of my bed.

It sucks that I have my whole family pitying me. I hate that.

I am not pitiful. I am not a victim.

I am a survivor. A fighter.

Or I want to be.

I want to be able to do something. To fight for myself.

To not be afraid anymore.

I punch the bed beneath me. "Fuck!"

Tears start streaming down my face.

I hate being helpless like a fucking baby.

Something needs to change. I need to change. To take charge. Be stronger. Be better. Be enough.

I close my eyes for a second.

I'm so tired.

My eyes fly open.

No, Paige. No sleep for you. You can't.

I blink, but my eyes take forever to open again. My eyelids are so heavy.

Maybe just for a second…

"Paige!" a familiar voice screams from the distance with fear so clear it almost strikes me in the face.

Declan?

I'm about to get in my car, but my eyes fly to him.

Declan, Gray, and Jimmy are running toward me, guns drawn.

I kick, I scream, I scratch. Nothing works.

He is too strong, His hand is too tight around my hair,

I'm never going to get away.

No one will be able to save me.

He drags me to the van and slams me against it.

I wake up with a start, sitting straight up in bed, a scream trapped in my throat, choaking me.

My chest burns like I'm drowning, each breath a chore as if my lungs refuse to accept the air I need.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why?"

Tears threaten to spill again, but I refuse to let them. Refuse being a victim. Refuse to let this break me anymore .

I breathe deeply, in through my nose, out through my mouth, just like Lara taught me.

In… Out…

Again, and again.

It takes a while, but after a few moments, I finally feel a little better, and I'm able to get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom.

Splashing water on my face helps, the cold shocking me back to reality.

I look down at the faint reminders of the scrapes on my palms and rub at them, as if it's dirt I can wash away.

My knees are worse, the skin scraped nearly clean off, and the kneecaps will probably be scabbed for a long while, maybe scarred forever. A permanent reminder that I'm helpless.

I look at myself in the mirror.

So pale, pasty. My exhaustion shows through.

I use a trick my best friend Sophie taught me, pinching my cheeks until there's a little color in them.

Not perfect, but not as ghostlike anymore.

Besides, who cares? Not like I'm leaving the house anyway, right?

My days of shopping and hanging out with my friends are on hiatus for an undetermined amount of time.

Maybe forever if I don't fucking snap out of it.

I refuse to let that thought linger. I will push through!

I will .

I face myself in the mirror, look deep into my eyes, determination growing in me.

"You are not weak. You are not a coward. You will overcome this, you hear me?"

My gaze stays fixed in the woman in the mirror. A shadow of myself. Willing her to listen. Willing her to tell me I'm right.

Willing her to be the one to utter those words back to me in a way I might actually start to believe them.

But she doesn't.

She never does. She stays silent. Skeptical. Judgmental.

This is the same speech I've been giving myself every single day since the incident. And every single day I fail to believe the words that come out of my mouth.

Living in my own house now, the house that Da bought for me, is both a blessing and a curse.

I don't want anyone to see me right now, knowing that my fear will show all over my face, because I don't need anyone coddling me. Pitying me even more.

And I definitely don't want anyone trying to get me to go back to the mansion.

That would be a disaster.

As long as I'm here, even if I feel less safe, I can hide behind locked doors and pretend all is well with both me and the world.

Even when I know nothing will ever be right in my world again.