22. Cara
22
CARA
W hile choosing a dress with Declan’s help was… fun, wearing it to this gala was not.
It wouldn’t have mattered what I wore. The discomfort that claimed me once I set foot in this posh, humongous ballroom would follow me regardless of any wardrobe change I could have attempted.
I don’t belong here.
Among the rich and famous. Next to the influential, pompous people gathered here like stars and leaders.
Or thugs. Now that I’d married a Mob man, I felt confident that I knew the type. It was all in the eyes, that brooding, dark stare that promised pain and death.
Women cast me glances, their disgust evident in their amused smirks. Hair done up, dresses hugging their slender bodies, and so much makeup that I felt too plain. These women were not like me. I would never have the willpower or energy to doll myself up and inject chemicals under my skin to look that fake, that plastic —and I swore for some of them, drugged up and too high, unable to socialize without help.
Tuxedoed men milled around the lavish space. Their bling glittered under so many chandeliers. All their hands bore gems and jewels, expensive watches and hard-earned scars.
These people were strangers, set aside by wealth and purpose as the denizens of the criminal world.
And next to Declan, I wished I could hide further.
He kept me next to him. His hand had yet to leave me. If he wasn’t holding my hand, he was touching the small of my back. Then when he wasn’t hugging me, commanding my attention on him as he stole a kiss, he was standing behind me with his arm possessively over my stomach as he pulled me back to him.
I wouldn’t complain.
His hard, hot body was familiar. It reminded me of the security he gave me when he took control. In and out of the bed. With him glued to my side, I relied on his comfort and ease of mingling in this crowd that I was certain I’d never feel a part of.
Down to my bones, I was nothing but a farm girl. A hardworking, middle-class plebeian. Expected to show up here, I was cast so far out of my element that I wished I could try my hand at seducing my husband to lure him out of here.
“You rub that ass against me one more time…” he growled into my ear, leaning over me as he stood braced behind me.
I couldn’t help the shiver his threatening, husky tone incited.
He groaned, kissing along my jawline as he inched his hand over my dress.
Goddamn, was he handsy. And possessive. I wouldn’t have been shocked if he was acting like this, doting and attentive, because he saw how uncomfortable and out of my element I was.
Or maybe he was marking his territory, letting everyone see that he’d truly married me and had taken me as his.
No one had come to our wedding. An average-sized crowd had attended the reception. Here, we seemed to be broadcasting our married status to the whole world.
And among the many fancy, cold people drinking and dancing in the ballroom, I spotted them . My so-called family who’d wanted me so little that they conspired to force me to marry Declan.
Shane and Keira stood together, seeming to be a couple in love. From a distance, I could tell that they were faking it, acting at ease while their smiles didn’t meet their eyes. While their gazes wandered.
“I should just fuck you right now,” Declan rasped in my ear.
Are you faking it too? I’d never been in public like this to know if this was how he always acted with a woman. I enjoyed his gruff possession, but he seemed to be laying it on thickly.
Is it an act for you?
I sighed, hating that I could still be so jaded, so quick to assume that he could mean it that he wanted me to feel secure and desired, even in public. The only time I’d had to get to know him were in private moments, so far, usually as we fucked.
This felt like a trial.
A test.
And I wasn’t sure I would know if I passed, this first time in public with him.
“You’d fuck me in front of all these people?” I challenged.
“No.” He sighed, standing straighter. “No man will ever see your body. No one but me.”
I bit my lip. Damn, he was protective tonight.
“Dec.” Ian nodded at me, his usual greeting, short and curt. “Smith wants a word.”
He shook his head, taking my hand as he stepped beside me. “No. Not tonight.”
Ian shrugged.
I didn’t know who Smith was, but I was hoping Ian could drag his brother off to speak to someone. I had yet to find an opportunity to slip away. All I needed to do was confront my father and ask why nothing had been paid toward my mother’s bills. Just a minute. One quick chat. But Declan seemed unable to let me out of his sight.
Finally, I found a chance to step aside.
“Stay with her,” Declan told Ian when he was summoned to speak with a few older men.
Ian nodded, stepping back toward me, but since I saw a man calling out his name, I snuck away from my brother-in-law too.
I’d last seen my father near the drinks. Picking up my gown to hurry toward that area, I roved my head side to side, seeking him out.
Dammit. I couldn’t spot him. I searched, craning my neck to see past all these people who needed a refresher from the bounty of alcohol here.
Where is he?
I felt so obvious, frantic to find both my father and my husband. I had to speak with my father and get answers. But I also had to keep an eye on where Declan was so he wouldn’t come and hover, all overprotective again.
Should I come clean? I’d warred with the option of just telling him all. To this moment, I still couldn’t tell whether I was making a mistake in keeping this a secret from him.
What would happen? If I broke down and told Declan that I’d only married him because my father agreed to pay off my mother’s debts, what would happen?
I feared his anger.
I worried that it would wound him. Because even though we’d been forced to marry and had done so without love, I hated the idea of ruining this slow buildup of reluctant affection we seemed to have now.
But what if I tell him, and once he knows that my mother is my weakness, he tries to use that against me too?
“Cara?”
Keira’s haughty voice stopped me in my tracks. I spun toward her, finding her in a burgundy dress that made her face look even redder. And blotchy. Or maybe that was the lighting. I approached her cautiously.
This woman never had any nice words to say to me, and I had no reason to lower my guard now. “Where’s my father?”
She snorted. “Your father ? My husband has never been your father. He’s just a sperm donor. Shane is Saoirse’s father.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. She’d always been so spiteful, so determined to wash away the fact that my father ever dated my mother and had me. Like we were a stain on her clutch on him.
“Where is he?” I demanded. I had to be running out of time. Declan would be seeking me out.
“Nowhere you need to know.” She looked me up and down, disdain clear in her unimpressed stare as my stepsister joined us.
“I do need to know.” I stepped up closer, unafraid. “I need to know why my mother’s medical debts haven’t been paid. Why he hasn’t held up his end of our deal.”
She smiled prissily, glancing at Saoirse as she laughed.
“Answer me,” I said.
Keira only giggled, a high-pitched sound that grated on my nerves and made me even madder.
“We never said when we’d pay anything for Nora.” She tilted her head to the side, smiling wide, like she’d been waiting for this moment. “It could be… years.”
I gritted my teeth, stepping forward with the urge to strangle her. “You liars.”
“What, you need money?” Keira taunted. “Ask your ‘husband’.”
Saoirse snickered. “How’s it going, a stupid, ugly idiot married to a rough brute like him?”
“You have no room to talk about me,” I warned her. “Or him, you bitch.”
Keira gasped. Her hand flew up, and she slapped me—hard. Stinging needles of pain lanced over my cheek, and as my head flung back, my hair whipped to the side.
“Don’t you…” She growled. “How dare you be so disrespectful to your sister!”
“You—” I lunged after her as she turned and slipped away. Saoirse’s lingering laughter floated with them, and before I could weave through the crowd and chase them down, I lost my way.
Further from the drinks area, almost to the middle of the ballroom’s center, the dance floor, I stood still and let my arms sag.
“Fuck!” I whispered to myself, scanning the crowd.
I wanted to speak to my father, to demand that he own up to his end of the deal. I couldn’t have gone through all of this for nothing. I refused to consider the chance that I’d married a stranger to abandon my mother and not secure her future for her.
As I spun, impatient to find my father, my gaze landed on Declan instead.
With a furrowed brow, he hurried up to me. He cut through the crowd, his eyes so stern with worry and anger.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
I turned to the side, giving him more of my profile. My cheek stung, and I was so nervous that he’d see the evidence of Keira’s slap.
“I just wanted to walk around,” I replied, defeated to miss out on speaking with my father.
“Don’t tell me you need another breath of fresh air already,” he mocked. “We just did that fifteen minutes ago.”
I smiled, wishing I felt the full effect of his gentle teasing.
“Hey.” He frowned again as he reached for me. “What’s wrong?”
I tried to keep him toward my side, hiding the full view of my other cheek. “I just want to go.” That wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the whole truth.
He sighed, still studying me closely. “We will.”
“I just don’t fit in here. I don’t belong.”
“You do. With me.”
“That’s the only place I want to fit.” And I meant that sincerely, too. Now that I was back with him, near his powerful body and take-no-shit attitude, I felt stronger. Calmer.
“What the fuck is this?”
He scowled, reaching up to cup my jaw and turn my face toward him.
Oh, shit.
“Are you wounded?”
“I…” I clamped my lips shut as he brushed his thumb over the redness on my cheek.
Gentle. Worried. Soothing.
It was always so remarkable to witness this other side of him that he showed me.
“Tell me, Cara.” His jaw tensed as he glared down at me. “Tell me who the fuck dared to touch you.”
Furious, too. Can’t forget about his default mode.
“Who the fuck hurt you?” he demanded.