CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Seconds later, Declan rounded the corner, stepping into the open frame of my classroom door.
Up until that point, Seth hadn’t actually done anything with the massive kitchen knife he’d been holding. But seeing Declan must have set him off in him, because he quickly brought the knife to my neck, pressing the tip into my jugular.
Declan’s face was a mask of easy calm as he slowly stepped into the room. His presence made me happy and lightheaded, sucking up all the oxygen in the room and leaving space for only him and his captivating aura.
It wasn’t until he caught sight of the spreading bruise on my cheek that I saw him react.
His hands tightened into fists, and he stepped menacingly closer.
“You hit her?” Declan barked, and Seth pressed his blade further into my neck.
“Na-ah-ah,” the psycho cooed. “Not another step, mister, or you get to watch her die.”
Just the mention of death had me hyperventilating, and I suddenly—and very literally—couldn’t breathe.
I wheezed, struggling to drag air into my lungs.
“Let her go,” Declan ordered. “Can’t you see she’s having—”
“A panic attack?” Seth interrupted. “Oh, I know. Mellie here has been getting them frequently since her old man kicked the bucket.”
“You… knew?” I wheezed out. “You knew about my panic attacks… the whole time… and did nothing to help?”
Seth rolled his eyes, then scoffed. “It’s always something with you, Melodie. You always need something. You need health insurance, you need medicine, you need help getting to the bathroom because your ankles are swollen and you can’t walk. Just you. You. You. YOU!”
“You never helped me with… any of those,” I gritted out through my shortness of breath. “You saw me struggling, and you did nothing to… help?”
He rolled his eyes again, refusing to answer, and instead chose to focus his anger at Declan once again.
“So, yeah. I know everything there is to know about my wife,” Seth declared. “I just don’t care. A panic attack won’t kill her.” He grinned then, his smile sadistic. “It only feels like it. And Mellie here deserves a little punishment.”
“I swear to God, I’m going to fucking kill you,” Declan growled, stepping forward, then suddenly stopping and backing up when Seth pressed the blade closer to my throat.
“Not so fast. Wouldn’t want me to accidentally slit her pretty throat now, do we?”
“Fine. Fine! What do you want? I’ll give you anything you want. Just don’t hurt her.”
“Aww,” Seth mocked. “Big, strong billionaire reduced to begging? And for my leftovers at that? Melodie is a nobody. She’s not special in any way, and the sex can’t be all that. I’m sure she’s just as boring in bed with you as she was with me.”
The muscles in Declan’s jaw worked as he ground his teeth together, perhaps to stop himself from telling Seth to go fuck himself.
My breaths were coming shallow now, and the room was starting to grow dim.
Just then, I glimpsed a flash of movement behind Declan, and he must have sensed it too, because his posture instantly relaxed.
“Give her to me,” Declan said, arms outstretched. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen. Just give her to me.”
Seth thrust his chin upward, pretending to think about it. “Uh… actually, no. I think I’ll keep her. Not because I want her back. Well, okay, maybe a little, because I want her back. But mostly because that means you won’t get to have her.”
“Fine,” Declan ground out. “Just… let me talk to her for a second. Say my goodbyes and all that.”
Goodbyes? Was he truly leaving me with this madman?
Of course, he was. I would only drag him down.
I had nothing to offer him, except for the literal clothes on my back.
And wasn’t that a fucked up way to start a relationship?
The power dynamic would be way off. I’d have no say in some matters, and in a way, wasn’t that exactly what I ran away from with Seth?
“Fine!” Seth agreed, albeit reluctantly.
“Say your goodbyes, then step aside so I can take my wife home. Where she’ll stay for the foreseeable future.
” He tightened his grip on my hair at that last part, then drastically loosened his hold, and I took a deep breath for the first time since this whole ordeal started.
“Mel? Baby, look at me,” Declan begged.
Black spots danced at the corner of my vision, but I did as he asked and looked him in the eyes.
“Do you remember our friends from the pond?” Declan asked, his tone pointed. “Brett? Bartholomew? The twins, Winslow and Mecca?”
I squinted at him, trying to figure out why he was bringing up our first date at a time like this.
“Do you remember them?” he asked again, and his tone was desperate now.
“Yes,” I croaked out, throat raw and aching. “I remember them.”
Declan sighed with relief, staring deep into my eyes. “Good, that’s good, sweetheart. What are they?”
“What are they?” I echoed in confusion. “They’re…”
Realization slammed into me, and I did the first thing that popped into my head.
I ducked.
There was a bang just as I hit the floor, and Seth let out a pained cry, stumbling backward and dropping to his knees, as he gripped his shoulder that was now oozing blood.
Immediately, I was scooped up into strong, familiar arms, and I wrapped myself around Declan like a baby koala, just as Steven stepped from before my classroom door with a gun in his hand.
“Is the missus okay, boss?” the stoically sweet man that had quickly become my friend asked.
“She’s fine now. Thank you, Steven,” Declan replied, voice calm and steady.
“The cops have been called. They’re already on the way. What do you want me to do with him in the meantime?”
Declan stood with me in his arms, and I clung to him for dear life, my breathing starting to slow, finding its way back to normal.
“Make sure he doesn’t die,” Declan ordered. “But if he gives you any trouble before the cops get here, show him why it was a mistake to fuck with what’s mine.”
“Yes, boss,” Steven agreed, and stomped over to a whimpering Seth, flipping him onto his stomach and securing his wrist behind his back. He kicked the knife—which had fallen from Seth’s hands when he grabbed for his bullet wound—under my desk and away from the psycho’s reach.
“You’re okay now,” Declan cooed in my ear, smoothing my hair back and kissing the bruised side of my face. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve got you, darling.”
And with that, he carried me out of the classroom and into the waiting Cadillac sitting in the school’s parking lot.