Deirdre was writhing despite their hold as she whimpered unintelligibly. Brendan realized what was going on with her and picked up the phone, his pain forgotten as he yelled, “Stop! You’re hurting her!”

The cops met his eyes and loosened their grip, causing Deirdre to fall forward on the floor. Her eyes were unfocused, as though the sheer magnitude of her sorrow had made it impossible to pay any attention. “You’re a cutthroat, Brendan. You’re so good at it, aren’t you?” she croaked tearfully.

He had treated her love for him as an invitation to use and abuse her. Then, even after all the sins he had committed, he had squawked about pretending none of this had happened. It was all… for nothing.

He had always been openly disdainful of her love back then. As it turned out, he was still spitting on it right now.

No one abused others quite like Brendan. No one.

Deirdre’s heart had turned cold. No, it was broken—shattered and trampled by the b*stard yelling into the phone behind the w