They were real; they lived among us. As the sole witness to a brutal murder, Ryann Sinclair knew that better than anyone.
He’d been burned once, and Cashel Donovan swore it was the last time.
Until Ryann Sinclair walked back into his life.
She was fiercely protective of her heart, and he was hell-bent on protecting her.
Never one to back down from a challenge, he was determined to break her.
Just so he could be the one to put her back together.
It’s uttered so quietly, I assume she’s dreaming. Without turning to look at her, I take another step out of the room.
There is a desperate sound in her tone that seizes my heart and traps the air in my lungs. Turning back, I go to the side of the bed and crouch down, so I’m eye-level with her. Softly, I push the hair off her forehead and hold her gaze. All her defenses are down. If a person’s eyes are windows to their soul, I feel like I’m seeing into the depths of her. Seeing all the broken pieces.