Cain
I’m losing it.
No—scratch that. I’ve already lost it.
I don’t even remember throwing the first glass. Just the sound of it shattering, echoing like the scream stuck in my throat. Then the next. And the next. Until I stomped on the one thing I swore I’d keep—
the family picture. My dad, Cyrus, and me. That perfect, bullshit image of control.
Now it’s in pieces on the floor.
Just like me.
All because of her.
Saoirse.
She’s not a flame—I could’ve survived a burn. No, she’s a goddamn wildfire, and I walked right into her with open arms and dry skin. Now I’m scorched down to the bone. Breathing hurts. Thinking? Worse.
She’s gonna be the f*****g ruin of me, and I’d let her. Again and again.
I grab a bottle from the bar, fling it so hard the glass cracks before it hits the wall. “
