Page 113 of Wicked Savage

I swallow back the lump in my throat, then try again. “I knew this could happen. I just...I wanted to believe he’d come to his senses after...”

“After he fucked your brains out?” She sounds almost too casual, but I can hear the protective edge in her voice.

“Yeah.” I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Obviously that didn’t happen.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the phone.

“From now on, Din, if he contacts you, don’t respond. Don’t even look his way. For your sake, he doesn’t exist.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. It’s what I’ve been telling myself ever since he broke up with me.

He’s gone. I have to let go. He’s not worth it.

But how? How do I pretend that the man who tore my heart apart doesn’t exist when I can still feel the echo of his touch, the taste of his kiss, the sound of his presence lingering in my mind?

I blink back tears as the rain picks up even more, the pitter-patter now a roar against the roof of the car.

“Shit,” she says. “How far are you? It’s getting bad out there.”

“Only a couple of miles.” I fight the tightness in my chest, trying to hold myself together.

“Okay, good,” she replies. “Because I’ve got?—”

And then everything shatters.

One moment, I’m gripping the wheel. The next?—

Headlights explode in my vision. Tires shriek. Metal crumples.

The impact slams into me like a freight train. My body whips forward, the seat belt biting into my skin as the car spins out of control. The world tilts and twists, and I’m weightless for a terrifying second before gravity yanks me down.

A crash. A crunch. A sickening jolt. My phone flies from the cup holder while Natalia’s voice crackles through the speaker, distant and frantic.

“Din, are you there? Answer me! Din!”

I try to breathe. Try to move. But the world is already slipping away.

Darkness swallows everything.

* * *

CILLIAN

My foot bounces relentlessly against the floor of the jet as I sit here with my hands clenched tight around my phone, trying—desperately trying—to convince myself that I did the right thing. I keep staring at her name on the screen, my thumb hovering over the keys, wondering if I should send her a text. Apologize again.

Maybe this time it’ll make sense to her. Maybe I can undo the damage I’ve done.

I was harsh, I know I was, but it was for the both of us. I couldn’t let her cling to something that was never meant to be.

But what if she’s still crying? What if she’s lying there in bed, her heart breaking the same way mine is?

I can’t stop the guilt from clawing and tearing at me.

My body grows rigid with indecision. Every fiber of me is screaming to go back, to hold her, to make her see things from my perspective. That we can never have this. That no matter how much I care for her, I can’t let myself have her.

The jet starts to roll down the runway, and I’m out of my seat in a heartbeat.

“Fuck! Stop the plane.”

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