Chapter 15
Casey
Blood everywhere. It’s on my hands. On my clothes. When I walk, I leave bloody footprints. Blood in my mouth. Blood drowning me. And there, floating across the bloody water, Natalie’s reaching for me, her face desperate and afraid as she silently screams and screams—
I wake up sweating. My sheets are drenched and my pillow’s soaked. I sit in the darkness and stare at the clock. A little past one in the morning.
It’s been like this lately. I try to get through the night, but the dreams keep coming back. They’re always awful, always bloody, and Natalie’s always there begging me for help.
I can never save her.
Because she’s already gone.
I get up and slip downstairs. Usually, I try to close my eyes, but I’m not bothering tonight.
Instead, I find a half-empty bottle of white wine in the refrigerator and pour myself a glass.
Maybe the alcohol will help settle my nerves.
I take a sip and drift over to the big windows overlooking the city.
This apartment is so strange. It’s beautiful, especially compared to the dull and average house I grew up in with Sheila.
The view is startling, and it’s taking me a while to get used to being up this high.
But everything’s so dull and impersonal.
I can’t seem to make myself fit into this space.
It’s like the walls and the furniture reject me.
Like I’m the foreign body and they’re the immune system.
There’s a creak on the steps. I look over my shoulder as Declan appears in the kitchen.
I don’t say anything, and he stares at me for a long moment.
My heart starts racing. It’s late, and I didn’t bother turning on lights.
He’s in thin black sweats and a black t-shirt that clings to his muscular body.
Somehow, his messy hair only makes him look even more gorgeous.
He’s usually so put together and buttoned up. But tonight, it’s just him.
Only a man. A beautiful man, but not perfect.
He pours himself some wine. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks quietly.
“Nightmares.”
He nods and stands by my side, not speaking.
We stare out at the city together. I’m too intensely aware of his body.
I catch his smell, slightly musky and warm, a touch of his cologne still clinging to his skin.
I like that smell a lot. It drags memories to the surface: his mouth on mine, his hips thrusting against me, his thick cock filling me to the brim. Memories I try not to think about.
“I had a friend in the family back in the day. His name was Sean. We were around the same age and came up together through school.” His voice is almost dreamy as he talks, raspy from sleep and strangely melodious.
“We got in a lot of trouble in those days. My brothers and I were terrors when we were younger, and Sean did his best to keep up. But he was a cautious kid. Didn’t want to get in trouble, even while he was trying to break into Whelan clan business. ”
I glance at him over the rim of my wine glass. “You don’t seem like the type to have many friends.”
It’s not a nice thing to say, but I’m not in a nice mood. That nightmare’s still bothering me, and I don’t know why he’s talking about some guy I’ve never met before.
He keeps looking out the window and hardly reacts.
“We were sixteen when I convinced Sean to break into a rival organization’s bar with me.
I thought I’d prove we were hard by robbing them.
Sean didn’t want to at first, but he wasn’t good at turning me down.
” Another silence. My heart quickens, and I can already guess where this is going. I regret making that stupid comment.
I take a long drink of wine. “What happened?” I prompt.
“Everything went good. We broke in through the back door. Picked the lock and slipped right in. The place was closed down for the night. We made drinks, had some laughs, and found some petty cash lying around in the back office. Sean tagged the wall and we figured that was it until there were voices coming from the door we’d opened, and I knew we were fucked.
See, I didn’t think about a security system, because I was young and stupid. ”
“The owners were coming? Or were they cops?”
“I don’t know. Still don’t to this day. I panicked and threw a chair at the front window.
Took a couple tries before it smashed. There was shouting from the back, but I already jumped out to the sidewalk and Sean came after me.
But I guess he slipped on the way and smashed through some of the leftover glass.
I remember the blood. It was terrible and coming fast.”
My mouth opens as bile fills my throat. “Oh, god. Where did it cut him?”
“All over. But the worst was his inner thigh. Sliced in deep. About as unlucky as it gets.”
I take a shaky drink. “Did you call an ambulance?”
“He staggered after me and I didn’t even realize he was hurt until he collapsed in the alley around the corner. I dragged him to the corner, but he was already dead by the time I called 911. Bled out right there for eighty bucks and a shot of bourbon.”
I touch his arm. My fingers are trembling, and his face is very calm, but I feel the urge to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. I’m telling you that story so I can say that I understand the nightmares better than you realize. I had them for months after Sean died.”
“How did you make them stop?”
“Eventually, the pain softened. I made some changes in my life. I dedicated myself to the family and swore I’d never do stupid shit like that again. I learned to be disciplined. I don’t take chances that aren’t completely necessary. I took Sean’s death and I let it push me onto my path.”
I squeeze his arm. My fingers dig into his muscle. He doesn’t seem to mind. “Right now, everything’s all murky. I don’t know if there’s anything to learn from what happened to Natalie.”
“You take what you can. You’ll find ways to move on. There’s nothing else you can do.”
“That feels impossible.”
He shifts and puts an arm around my shoulders. I step closer, heart racing. Why am I letting this happen? Worse, why do I want it to happen? He glances at me, face tense, and his body’s so warm.
“You’re at the bottom right now. You’re trapped in the ravine. Grief’s that way. It sucks you into the deeps and it holds you there. But the old clichés are true. Time softens things. Maybe it doesn’t heal all your wounds, but it makes them ache less.”
“The sick thing is I don’t want to forget this feeling, you know what I mean? I think I owe it to Natalie to hold on to her for as long as I can.”
“Nobody says you have to let her go.” He turns to face me. His hands are on my hips. I stare up into his eyes as he takes my glass of wine and places it down on the end table beside his. “But life doesn’t stop.”
“It did for her.”
“But it won’t for you.”
“All I want is a good night’s sleep right now. That’s all I really want.”
“Let me help you.”
“How?”
He leans down. His fingers grip me tighter. “You know how,” he whispers, his mouth inches from mine. “All you have to do is ask.”
My stomach’s a nervous wreck. My heart’s racing into my throat. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted a person in my life. I know what he promises. Bliss and pleasure. Pain and a few minutes of forgetting. If I give myself to him, there won’t be anything but his touch.
Do I deserve that? Shouldn’t I suffer?
Natalie’s dead because of me.
But I’m alive and so is Declan.
“Please,” I whisper, my lips parting. “Please, sir.”
He kisses me. It’s a blistering, needy kiss, like he’s been struggling not to dominate me with his lips every second we’ve been together since that first time.
I surrender to him because that feels better than thinking or acting or doing anything at all.
I kiss him back, our tongues tangling, teeth jangling, desperate and hungry in the darkness.
His taste is mint and wine. I love it and want more.
He pins me back against the window and puts both hands up my crop top, palming my breasts.
I moan into his mouth as he teases my nipples.
His hands are strong and firm. One remains on my chest while the other slowly snakes down to my little sleep shorts.
I’m trembling against him, breathing hard as he strokes down between my legs with one hand.
The other comes up my top, my breasts resting against his forearm, his palm wrapping around my throat lightly.
He bites my lower lip and grips my chin.
“All mine, little flower,” he murmurs, stroking my pussy over my shorts over and over, kneading gently, sending pangs of bliss into my core. “Are you going to be a good girl tonight? Are you going to do exactly what I say?”
“Yes, sir,” I moan as he tightens his hand around my throat. “Whatever you want, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear. You’re such a good, polite girl. You know what I want to hear. You know how to get what you want, too.” His hand between my legs flips up beneath the hem of my shorts. I whimper as he teases over my panties. “I’ve been a good boss, haven’t I? Hard but fair?”
“Yes, sir,” I moan. God, it feels so good.
“I’m hard on you, Casey, because I know you can handle it.” He slips down my panties and palms my pussy. A low rumble of approval releases from his lips. “You’re so fucking wet. Did I say you were allowed to get this soaking wet?”
“No… but… I can’t help it.”
“Did I say you were allowed to want me this badly?” He stares into my eyes, gripping my throat, fingers slowly moving up and down my slit.
“Ah… no… you didn’t.”
“I didn’t… sir.”
“Sir!”
He releases my throat and pulls his arm out from under my shirt. He grabs my hair instead, pulling it tightly.
“Maybe you aren’t as obedient as I thought.”
“I am… I’m trying…”
“Not hard enough.”