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And when he's finished, I feel…vulnerable, which is something I'm not used to, and I hate it. I also realize it's probably exactly what he wanted. I want to run, but neither of us move.

Instead, I rest my head on his shoulder, trying to catch my breath, silently scolding myself. But there's never been any equity of power in mine and Declan's relationship—not from the very first moment. Saying what we both already know aloud and letting it hang there isn't going to make that any truer than it already is.

So, really, I did nothing.

"Teagan?"

"Nothing's changed."

"What?" he asks.

Oh shit. Did I say that aloud?

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

He lowers me onto the bed and then takes my hand in his. He presses the knife into my palm and curls my fingers around it inside of his own fist.

Then, he brings the tip of the blade to his own chest.

"Do it," he says.

"What? No!"

I try to release the knife, but he tightens his grip around mine. He leans in until it digs into his skin. Dark red blood drips down his chest.

"Stop!" I scream.

Panicking, I kick my way out from under him and jump off the bed.

"Teagan…Teagan! Stop!"

He grabs me before I get to the door, pinning my back to the wall.

"It's okay," he says.

I shake my head. "It's a trick. You won't want me anymore. Iwon'tdo it. You're punishing me for what I did. If you want me gone, I'll just leave!"

"Calm down," he says softly, tilting my chin with two fingers until my eyes meet his. "It's not a trick, Teagan. I don't want you gone. I love you."

I shake my head. "No, you're lying. I'm not falling for it."

"Take the knife, Teagan."

"No!"

"You already cut me, Teagan," he says, pressing the knife into my palm again. "I'm already bleeding. If it's a trick, you might as well make it count, right?"

I close my fist around the handle and gaze down at the blade, turning it over in my hand as I contemplate my options.

He's right. It's a small cut, but heisbleeding. A thin trail of blood runs from the tiny incision down his abs. And so, maybe I should just do it. Because fuck it—he's already ruined me. He won't stop. If this is how he wants it to end, let's get it over with.

I'll play.

Flexing my jaw, I look up at him with new resolve.

"That's my girl," he says.

"You love me?" I ask.