(LIAM'S POV)
Dylan's hands dropped to his sides, the travel bag forgotten. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling. "Oh Goddess. I didn't... I acted without thinking."
I could see the tears glistening in his eyes, the way his throat worked as he tried to swallow the lump that had formed there. He looked broken, in a way that had nothing to do with Blue's command and everything to do with Roland's words.
And then, slowly, he turned to look at me.
"Liam..."
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I stood there, awkward and uncertain, caught between the two men I loved, not knowing what to say or do. My arms felt heavy at my sides, the bandages hidden beneath my sleeves burning like a brand, a constant reminder of my weakness, my vulnerability, my failure to protect myself.
Dylan took a step toward me. Then another. And then he dropped to his knees.
"Liam." His voice cracked, raw and broken. "I'm so sorry."
"Dy-Dylan—"
