Chapter 11 Declan #2
“Yeah, I wasn’t far away, so I said I’d check things out. A good sniper would have been gone after the second missed shot. That was…amateurish.” He grins, not caring he’s been caught. “Don’t be too pissed at them, though. You’re the baby.”
“You mean the fuck up.”
“The lass is still breathing, so that’s good.” He pauses. “Her mam’s ambitious. She came from nothing and turned Briggs from a successful company into a powerhouse. She’s got to be in a number of pockets. Like Milo Marcello’s,” he says with a knowing look.
My face must give my shock away.
“I’ve done some nosing around. Marcello is decent enough but holds grudges and takes what’s his. Nothing came up on your guy Mario, though. O’Shay’s a fool for trusting him, but he made a mistake. I can kill him if you like.”
“Not yet.” I pause. “What about Leon Garcia?”
“He’s related to a cartel but doesn’t seem eager to play.”
I swallow, then ask. “Did you find anything on those drugs?”
His expression darkens. “Dec, Callahan’s right, leave them. Someone’s probably sold them, and they weren’t worth much.”
“How do you know?”
“Your brother told me. And my thinking is if this Mario disappeared along with the drugs, maybe he used the money he made on another deal to get out of town.” He shrugs, then looks at me. “He’s probably gone. Let it go.”
“Not helpful,” I say, aware of my internal clock ticking. I need to get back to Marlowe.
“It’s not meant to be, kid. It just is what it is. Cal’s right. Dirty, cheap drugs aren’t something a Murphy should be caught selling. Lowers the reputation.”
“I didn’t—”
“I’m still digging into Heston,” Roark says, not letting me finish. “He’s everything you’ve heard. Adores the shit out of his ballerina daughter, though. I can see why.”
I scowl at him.
“Not my type, there, okay, Dec? I’m not a threat. Don’t get your dick in a twist.”
“I need to get back in there,” I mutter, but Roark puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Only if you want to go down for shooting a highly illegal rifle.” He takes a puff of his cigarette and breathes out a stream of smoke. “The weapon’ll be untraceable, nothing to lead you to the real culprit. You’ll want to talk to the shooter himself.”
I glare at my cousin because fuck his laid-back ways. “Which I could have, if you’d have let me catch him.”
“And draw attention to yourself, Dec?” He shakes his head and straightens up. “The source is better. I have the license plate number, so if he’s got anything to say and isn’t just some lowlife peon, I’ll let you know.”
I grit my teeth. “If you find him, let me know.”
“Deal.”
Marlowe’s silent when I get back, the bathroom door still shut. When I try the handle, it’s locked.
I left her longer than I meant to. She infects the air, makes it volatile, rich, something that sparks with excitement and awareness, even through the fear.
“Molly, it’s Dec—”
The door opens, cutting me off. She flies at me. I grab her by the waist, the unstable element lit, setting off a chain reaction I can’t stop.
I guide her kicking, fighting body into the bathroom and hold her face forward at the mirror over the sink. Mine is dark with intent, hers is lit up with fire and hate, and the thing burning it all down to the ground?
Desire.
“You left me,” she spits.
I rub her clit against the edge of the sink, my hard-on pressing into her from behind, hand just on her pelvis so she’s got nowhere to go. Besides, I’ve got her too tight. She can’t escape.
And even if I released her, I don’t think she’d move.
“I did.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I can be,” I murmur, kissing her ear before moving to the back of her neck. And I’m so fucking hard it hurts.
The adrenaline pumps, and I know it’s got nothing to do with whoever took potshots at us. It’s everything to do with her.
I shift back and pull down the layers of clothes…her sweats, the leotard bottoms, her tights, and panties. I’m rewarded with the perfume of her arousal, a subtle musk that threads into the air around me.
“Wanna know what I wanted to do to you in that bathroom in the club years ago? More blowjobs,” she says.
Her feisty words make my soul swell like it’s blasted by helium.
“I’ll always take more fucking blowjobs from you, Molly.”
What I want is to take her ass. I want to surge into her, slam hard, take that virginity, too. But I want to wait. I want her tied up so she can’t move, so she’s senseless, boneless, almost mindless with lust and pleasure.
Then I can take her hard and fast.
Oh fuck, I’m wasting time taunting her, thinking about fucking her every hole. We should be out of here. But she rubs against me, her expression pre-orgasmic. Her eyes plea with me.
“Fuck me, Declan.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I take her right there. Fast, hard, and dirty. The kind of sex that burns off fear and replaces it with something raw. Something real.
After we’re finished, I lean in, lick her outer ear, and whisper, “Leaving you, just like this, becomes a perfect spank bank memory.”
I walk to the door, my hand clenching the handle tight for balance because my damn legs are shaking so much.
“Fuck,” she mutters. “Oh. Fuck…”
“Get ready, we leave in three minutes.”
It shouldn’t take more than two to get the hell out of here. We haven’t unpacked. I hoist her bag over my shoulder, and she comes out of the bathroom, looking completely dazed, her eyes glassy. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
She frowns. “But it’s my apartment. I’ve been waiting so long to be able to stay here.”
This is hers. I get that. The only things that give it personality are the dance trinkets, but those are something a father would leave. The rest is a blank canvas, waiting for her to put brush strokes to it. Maybe her dad really does love her.
And I know this apartment is important to her in ways a place she’s always known isn’t. This is where she’ll make her mark.
And I’m—
I square my shoulders.
Doing my job.
“We’ll use this space, but not to live in.”
“I don’t want to live here with you.”
“Good,” I say, “you won’t be.”
She crosses her arms. “I don’t want to live with you anywhere.”
“Well, Molly lass, that’s too fucking bad, isn’t it? There’ll be times I can’t be with you, so I need to make sure you’re somewhere safe.” I don’t like how her eyes light up. “You’ll be coming home with me.”
“I don’t want to go home with you.”
“Too bad. We’re going to the Murphy place where I’m sure Lola has been missing you terribly. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here before the cops turn up, okay?”
I open the door and usher her out, not giving her a chance to argue.
And not giving myself a chance to find another space in here to christen.