13. Serenity
Chapter thirteen
Serenity
T he next morning, I wake with a start. I hadn't remembered falling asleep, but in an instant, I remember I fell asleep in Declan's bed, next to the man. His breathing had managed to lull me to sleep finally. As did his reassurance that I didn't have to worry about the clothes, or what he thinks or does. I'm not sure I fully trust him not to yell at me again, or that I really don't have to worry about what he thinks of me, but the idea of it is reassuring. I hadn't realized how much weight running my parents' household was.
I hear voices down the hall and the smell of bacon wafts into the room.
I'm starving, so I excitedly hurry to the kitchen, where Declan is sitting at the kitchen island, on a tablet of some sort, and Magda is frying up some bacon.
"Good morning, lovely." Magda greets me with a warm smile, but when Declan looks up from his tablet and his eyes drop, I realize I'm still only in his T-shirt and boxers. His gaze snags briefly on my chest and I look down to see my nipples are pebbled against the thin fabric of his undershirt.
I cross my arms over my chest and step backwards. "I'm... just going to go... change..."
"Put on running clothes," Declan barks, his focus back on his tablet.
"Running clothes?"
His nostrils flare. "Did I stutter?"
Jeez. I guess he's not a morning person. Instead of taking it personally, I retreat to my room and put on what I'm guessing are running clothes. I find a pair of running shoes in the shoe rack of the closet and put them on, marveling at the perfect fit. I do have to give Vivek credit; he's definitely a pro at his job.
Just as I come back Magda serves Declan and the seat next to him two large plates, loaded with eggs and bacon.
"I hope you like eggs and bacon. Declan requested them for you."
"For me?"
He doesn't look up from his tablet as he grumbles and stabs a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.
"I usually just eat a muffin from the cafe."
Declan looks up then, at my defiance, I'm sure, and gives me another once over. "Protein is better in the morning. I've been reading up on your... conditions... and protein is better than carbs. Less sugar spikes. It could help. And then there's the running..."
I just catch the tail end of Magda's smile as she turns away from me and pours a mug full of coffee. He did research on me? On ADHD and anxiety? And had Magda make something specific to help me? I'm moved by his thoughtfulness. I want to thank him, to express my gratitude, but I'm trapped on the spot, not knowing what to say.
Instead, he speaks first.
"It's scrambled eggs, Serenity, not the Mona Lisa. Sit down and eat."
I smile as he pulls us back into our normal dynamic.
"How do you take your coffee?" Magda asks sweetly.
"Just milk please."
He's right, the high sugar and carbs of my morning muffins and extra espresso in my lattes from Jammin' Java probably didn't help my anxiety any. Or my ability to focus.
I sit on the stool next to him, and dig in.
"Decaf," Magda whispers as she sets the coffee in front of me, as if it's a grand secret.
"For my... conditions..." I ask, peeking at Declan, to see if we're friendly enough to tease each other. I like that he didn't share my personal information with Magda, although anyone who spends enough time with me will certainly catch on.
After a delicious breakfast, Declan changes into his running clothes and ushers me out the front door. In the little front garden area, he leads me through some stretches before our run. It's one of those rare September mornings that is blessedly cool, even in the oven that the city streets and buildings usually cause.
"Try to keep up," is all he says before he takes off in a light jog.
"I don't run!"
But I broke into what felt like an uncoordinated jog next to him, dashing around others walking on the sidewalk. Already winded by the first stoplight, I rest my hands on my knees and gasp for air.
Declan has barely broken a sweat.
"How far is this run?" I ask, willing my heartrate to slow down.
I'm answered with a glare.
Alright then.
A few more crosswalks later and we jog onto the Arlington Memorial Bridge. The city is gorgeous from here, so I try to take in the view without bumping into other pedestrians or collapsing.
My thighs and calves already ache and I'm already dreading the jog home.
Another break getting off the bridge and he leads me to a trail on Columbia Island. I've driven over the island but never been on it. The entire thing is a park with a couple marinas, and other joggers getting in their morning exercise.
Finally, the burning in my lungs becomes too much and I feel like they're about to seize up in protest. I stop, leaving him to jog another few steps before realizing I'd dropped out. He jogs back to me, looking annoyed.
"I'm sorry...I don't run...I can't..." I say between painful gasps.
"Give me another hundred feet. Give me until that bench and then we can rest," he says, pointing to a cast iron bench a few yards away.
I nod. I can do that. I can give him that.
I push up off of my knees and push past the pain and discomfort. I collapse on the bench, resting my head back and chugging the fresh air. The sunshine, smell of the water, and fresh air do make me smile.
"That was the wall. Every runner hits it. You've got to get used to pushing past it."
I nod, even though I never want to run again.
"Get up and walk around or the lactic acid will make tomorrow miserable."
It's a barked command, but it's - again - protecting me.
We take a lap around Columbia island, taking lots of quick breaks for me. I can tell he's annoyed with how out of shape I am, but I didn't ask to go running with him.
Eventually, on numb legs, we make it back home, where I shower and collapse in bed.
***
A week later, Joseph pulls up to the curb in front of The Envelope.
I'm following Declan silently inside when a cold hand grips my bicep tightly and tugs me backwards. I let out a surprised shout as I stumble, landing painfully on one knee. In a flurry of commotion, I'm tugged again, this time towards a dark alley on the side of The Envelope, and Joseph rushes towards us, but Declan's there faster. Declan swings at the stranger, forcing him to release his grip on me. Finally, I turn to see it's Todd, one of Gary's seedier friends who would leer at me every time he saw me.
Declan turns to hold me, making sure I'm alright, but before he gets a word out, Todd swings with a left hook and catches Declan by surprise. I cry out again, and this time it starts to draw the attention of a few people lingering down the street. This isn't the area I grew up in where sounds of violence are common. This is the fancy part of DC, and street-side brawls are not the norm.
Todd notices the attention and backs slowly into the alley.
"Don't think you can escape from us, little missy," he says, and it sends a chill down my spine.
I can't worry about him, though, when Declan's cursing and spitting out blood.
"Oh my God! Declan! Are you okay?"
I hold his face in my hands, turning it so I can inspect him.
"Should I follow him, boss?" Joseph asks, concern lacing his voice. Joseph doubles as Declan's security, and I'm sure he is beating himself up. This isn't exactly the type of place where he needs to watch over him closely, and he'd been back in the car waiting to pull out into traffic.
"A friend of Gary's, I assume?" Declan growls, spitting out more blood.
Shame and regret pour over me like scalding water.
"I'm so, so, so, sorry."
Declan waves Joseph off and lets me hustle him into The Envelope and into his office where I know he has ice.
His face is stormy, and he's touching his split lip tenderly, but he's not yelling at me, yet.
I scoop a handful of ice out of his ice maker and hold a large piece against his jaw, which is now red and swelling.
"You didn't have to do that."
Frustration, anxiety, and fear are a potent concoction floating just below the surface of my skin. I hate that he was hurt because of me. I hate that my shady life before him had sullied his perfect world. I hate that he had to rescue me, again .
"It's a cut lip, Serenity. It's not a big deal. Why are you fretting so much?"
He winces when I drag the ice cube over his lip and whatever tiny tether I had on my control snaps.
"Because I'm not worth it!"
It's the first time I've ever raised my voice at anyone, and I'm instantly hit with the embarrassment of it. But instead of reacting with anger, like I'd expect him to, Declan's face slackens, his brow relaxing. So, I let out all my frustration on him. "You got hurt because of me and I'm not worth defending. I'm not worth the fancy house or the fancy clothes and I'm definitely not worth you getting hurt because of me!"
I try to hide the shiver that runs through me but am unsuccessful. And of course, Declan catches it.
"Ser..." he says, and it's full of pity and softness and I hate it, too.
I take a step back and clench my fists, chest heaving. Soft, green eyes implore me to look at them. I fight the urge for a while. But finally, I look up at him. His entire demeanor has changed. He's still tense, but there's no frustration or anger or anything.
Slowly, he reaches out and wraps his large hands around mine, digging his thumbs in my closed fist and peeling them open. The ice clatters to the floor, but neither of us notice. We breathe in silence, eyes locked, an entire silent conversation happening between us.
He gently brings my hands back to his face, in a silent command to calm down, to relax, to touch him again. But instead of trying to treat him, I simply hold his face in my hands. It's the most physical contact I've ever had with another human being. It's the most touch I've ever had.
I'm willingly touching him. And he's willingly letting me.
His hands come to rest on my hips. It's nothing sexual, but it's frighteningly intimate.
My thumb moves on its own, gently caressing his cheek. He has dark, soft stubble, and I'm mesmerized by the feeling of it. I take in the cleft in his strong jaw, his strong cheek bones. I gently press against his cut lip, frowning that something so beautiful is marred because of me. But I'm touching him, and he's letting me.
There's a sharp knock at the door, causing me to start out of my trance and take a step back. Then I scold myself, thinking that touching a man's face is scandalous... in a sex club.
Madame Kline peeks her head through the door as she opens it, not waiting for a response.
"Have you seen...?" But she trails off with a happy smile when she sees me.
"Ah...I see...well I'll leave you to it then..." I swear she almost giggles.
"No! It's not like that..." I rush after her, hot with embarrassment
She's already halfway down the hallway by the time I caught up. "We open in ten, so I was just coming to find you. But if the boss has better uses for you time..." she teases, wagging her eyebrows up and down.
Embarrassment mixes with panic as I realize what she thinks we were doing.
"No! I'd never do that. I need this job, and we're not allowed to mix with the clients."
I catch my error the minute it comes out of my mouth. So does Madame Kline.
"But Declan isn't a client, now, is he?"
I open my mouth lamely before closing it again. Damnit, she caught me on a technicality.
I shake my head but straighten my shirt and veer off to find Benji, before I can get any crazy ideas.