Page 127 of Shameless Royalty

I lost him.

I fucking lost him.

A choked, broken sound claws its way out of my throat before I can swallow it down, and I hate it. I hate this. I hate that I feel like this, that he’s made me into this. I don’t react when Da steps around the desk, don’t flinch when I feel him crouch in front of me. A heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You didn’t lose him, lad,” he says quietly.

A bitter laugh tears from my throat. “His room is empty, Da.” My voice is raw. “I went to see him, and he was gone.”

Da nods. “I gave him a choice, Connor. He could go back to his old life. Or he could go somewhere safe. Somewhere Anthony Dawson couldn’t touch him.”

Something inside me shatters and I shake my head, my breath ragged. “No,” I whisper. “No, he wouldn’t—”

“He did,” he interjects and I stare at him, my pulse roaring in my ears. “He chose to leave, lad.”

It feels like being gutted. Like a blade sliding through my ribs, cutting deep, and my entire fucking world tilts beneath me. “He chose to leave,” I echo, my voice breaking.

A broken, shuddering sound rips out of me before I can stop it, my hands fisting in my hair, my head hanging between my shoulders as the weight of it all crushes me.

“Breathe, son.” His voice is low but steady, grounding. “You’re spiralin’.”

I shake my head, my chest heaving, my body fucking breaking under the pressure. “I—I can’t—” My throat closes up, my vision swimming, and before I can stop it, I break.

The first sob tears out of me so violently that I feel like I’ve been gutted from the inside out.

And then another.

And another.

I don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying anymore. Something about how I should’ve told him how much I fucking love him, how I should’ve stayed, how I should’ve fought harder—

Da’s voice is low when he finally speaks. “He’s safe.”

And that snaps me out of my spiral. I swallow hard, dragging in a shaky breath. “What do you mean?” I ask, my vision hazy with unshed tears and I wipe them away. “Where is he?”

He lets out a sigh. “Willow Bridge.”

My breath locks in my throat and my stomach drops so fucking fast I feel sick.

Willow Bridge.

Holy fucking shit.

The relief is violent. It crashes into me so hard I nearly fucking collapse all over again. My whole body sags, my head dropping forward, my breath rushing out of me in a ragged exhale.

I lift my head slowly again, my chest still tight, my heart still barely beating. “Why?”

Da watches me carefully, his expression unreadable. “Because he deserved the choice.”

I stare at him, my pulse a violent rhythm against my ribs, my hands still trembling. “And what if I want him back?”

He lifts a brow, something knowing in his gaze. “Then I suggest you figure out a way to earn him back, lad. You can’t justwant itif he doesn’t want the same thing.”

The words settle deep inside me, anchoring me in something new. Something I can fucking do. Because if Malachi thought he could run from me—if he thought I would just let him go without a fight—he was dead fucking wrong.

“Christ.” I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking. “Fuck.”

Da squeezes my shoulder once before letting go, straightening up. “He’s protected there. I made sure of it.”

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