Prologue

Liam Stone

I stared at her bruised face as she sat across the table from me looking on edge, void of all emotion, refusing to speak first. As much as I wanted to blame her for my being here, I couldn’t. It was my own fucking fault. Not that I regretted it. I’d do it again. The bastard fucking deserved it. I’d dreamt of doing it for years, and despite landing myself here, it was worth it.

“I’m not bailing you out.” She broke the silence between us, glancing at the handcuffs locked around my wrists. 

“I didn’t ask you to,” I sneered.

“Well, just so we’re clear. You’re on your own. You shouldn’t have come back. You should’ve minded your own fucking business.”

Of course. Why would I ever expect her to thank me? Or, I don’t know, defend my actions against her fucking asshole of a husband? She was right. I shouldn’t have shown back up. For some reason, I thought she needed saving. I was fucking stupid for thinking I could do just that. She obviously didn’t want to be saved. And she obviously didn’t want me. She was choosing him. Again.

“When you get out, stay away. Don’t come back. I don’t need you fucking things up for me.”

“Fucking things up for you? I didn’t think that was possible.” I glared at her.

She slid her gaze from me momentarily. “I mean it. Stay. Away.”

A deep hate manifested inside me. I didn’t think it was possible for me to ever hate anyone this much, let alone her. But I was done—done fucking trying to be there for her, trying to help give her a better life. She was on her own. If she ended up dead, I’d no longer feel guilty. I tried. Fuck her and her fucking prick husband.

I leaned my forearms on the table, angling my upper body forward, letting my eyes penetrate hers, the hate and anger radiating off me. She shifted uncomfortably, but her stupid pride kept her from taking her eyes off me.

“Don’t bother ever coming to see me again. You stay out of my fucking life. I’ll stay out of yours,” I promised her. “You’re dead to me.”