Chapter 9
Karey Justice
Even though the apartment appears empty, the hairs on my nape stand on end as Declan steps inside. He pulls me over the threshold and shuts the door with a loud thump. The lock slides home in the silence.
This was a horrible idea. Now I’m either locked in my apartment alone with the only man who’s ever turned me on or I’m locked in with him and another asshole who tried to rape me.
I question all my life choices as I follow him through the main living area. He even checks behind the curtains before heading down the hall.
I swallow as he opens my bedroom door.
Everything is how it was before Brad attacked me, but I know I knocked over the corner lamp and pulled the comforter halfway off the bed in my struggle for freedom. Even my laptop sits exactly where it was when I woke up to him looming over me.
I shudder.
Declan squeezes my hand before motioning for me to stay in the hall as he enters. I grab his arm and shake my head with a glance toward Brad’s closed bedroom door. Declan nods in understanding and tugs me close before brushing my hand off him.
Despite wanting to appear self-assured and unbothered, I fight against the urge to cling to the back of his shirt. He needs both hands free to fight, and having me too close would restrict his movements.
After checking under the bed, Declan opens my closet.
Brad stands inside like a nightmare in the flesh. Disbelief spears through me.
Declan moves before I can process the situation.
Apparently, Brad can’t either. Declan yanks him out of the closet, throws him onto the floor, and beats him half to death before the creep even has a chance to lift his arms to defend himself.
I watch in horrified delight as my middle school savior demolishes my ex-new roommate in the same spot where he molested me less than twenty-four hours ago.
When Declan lifts his arm and crimson drips from his knuckles, my stupor breaks. I jump into action. I asked for his help, but that doesn’t mean I want him to spend the rest of his life in jail for murdering someone on my behalf.
I lunge forward and call his name. He doesn’t hear me. My voice cracks as I try again, to no avail.
I grab his elbow and his ear. I don’t know why. Both are within easy reach and adrenaline demands I do something before he kills the man he’s straddling, so that’s where I grab.
He snarls and whips toward me with his other arm raised. Unadulterated fear clenches my stomach at the manic intensity in his unseeing eyes.
I pinch his ear. Hard.
Humanity seeps into his gaze.
He drops his fist. I tug him off his prey. Like a puppet on a string, he follows my silent instructions.
Brad gurgles. Declan stiffens and turns.
I dig my nails into his arm and twist his ear.
“No, don’t hit him again. Roll him onto his side. Don’t let him die,” I hiss.
The next few minutes blur around me.
“Miss?”
I pull my attention to the officer in front of me. The EMTs wheel Brad’s bloody body down the hall on a stretcher.
“I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“I asked if you had somewhere else you could stay?” he repeats.
“Oh, um…”
My brain blanks. I don’t understand why he’s asking me this. Aren’t I coming back here? I don’t want to, but this is my current address. Why wouldn’t I come back?
Before I can force my mouth to respond, guilt and shame curdle my insides as the neighbors’ whispers carry in from the hallway.
Even though I did nothing wrong, they’ll condemn me first. I’m the newcomer. They’ve known Brad for years and he presents as an amazing guy, so of course the rumor mill will turn against me.
If I call Matthew now, then involving Declan was pointless.
My best friend and his fiancé will still feel guilty.
If I can just find a cheap place to stay for a few days until I pay for a new apartment, they’ll never have to know, except I already put down a large deposit for a full year on this lease.
That, along with my half sister’s medical bills, and I don’t have the liquidity to find a new place that isn’t in the slums. I could camp out in my office, but the building swapped their security company and I don’t trust the new guards yet.
I rub my forehead and swallow the emotions lodged in my throat.
Declan joins us and saves me.
“Yes, she has somewhere she can stay tonight,” he says.
I swallow and crane my neck to meet his eyes.
He’s offering to let me stay at his place.
It should be an emphatic no from me, but I nod and sag against him. He cups my shoulder and holds me to his side.
Realizing we’ll need to go to the police station and file a report, I fight back tears. It’s barely early afternoon, but after having strangers—aka Declan’s tailor and his aids—gawk at me all morning, only to then find Brad hiding in my closet, I’m not sure I can handle much more.
The policeman assures us we can take Declan’s car to the station, but when I grab my suitcase to pack some clothes, he taps his foot impatiently by the front door.
Declan slides a hand across the small of my back and blocks my view of the cop with his body.
“I’ll send movers over tomorrow to pack all your things, so just grab a few essentials. I’ll take care of the rest. Okay?”
I nod again and abandon the suitcase, electing to take just my laptop, briefcase, and work bag. This means the only clothing I’m taking is an emergency set of panties hidden away at the bottom of my work bag, but at least I’ll have my prescriptions, so nothing else really matters.
An odd numbness falls over me. After discussing our story on the way to the station, I give my official statement then sit in silence as Declan waits for them to take his.
He spends longer in the interrogation room than me but emerges without an ounce of tension in his body. After thanking the officers, he ushers me into the car.
I mentally check out until he parks the car and opens my door.
When he offers me his hand, I accept. All my senses wake in a sensual rush. The cool air wafts over my skin as he leads me through the brightest parking garage and into the nicest elevator I’ve ever stepped foot in, and I wine and dine with New York City’s finest.
He presses a button for a floor near the top of the building.
“What, no penthouse?” I joke.
He slips his hands into his trouser pockets and leans back on the wall with a smirk. My stomach somersaults.
The doors open. I step out expecting posh hallways to a handful of high-end apartments and instead stand in a lavish seating area.
“The elevator only stops on this floor with a code. This is the foyer. Grandmother’s suite is the right half. Mine is the left,” he gloats.
For a moment, I hate him for his success. A matchmaker could never find this level of wealth.
I shrug away the negativity. Even in middle school, I knew he would make it big. He always saw the world differently than I did, and the few times he opened up, he was always down to earth and ready to put in the effort.
Ready to build everything except a relationship with me.
A familiar sense of melancholy sweeps over me, and I don’t need to look up to know a storm cloud gathers over my head.
It doesn’t matter. My bottle of antidepressants is tucked safely in the bottom of my bag, and after the chaos of the last few days, even a normal person would crash.
It’s good Declan escaped when he did twenty years ago. He hasn’t had to deal with my mess. The mood swings, the pain, the depression, he never has to know about any of it.
I force a levity I don’t feel into my tone.
“This is seriously impressive, dude. I’d ask you to teach me your ways, but I’ve got enough on my plate, and I doubt women like your grandmother would let me get away with a career change at this point,” I ramble.
“No, I suppose not.” He pauses as my stomach rumbles. I wouldn’t mind if the floor opened up and swallowed me whole. “Speaking of plates, what do you want for dinner?” he asks.
“Tacos, fried chicken, and ramen,” I answer, only half joking.
Despite my weight, I don’t eat massive meals. My caloric intake, when I monitor it, is never as high as the doctors assume.
“Done,” Declan declares without batting an eye.
He strides toward his apartment.
“Wait! I was kidding. I don’t need that much food,” I huff as I chase after him.
“Well, I do, so you’d better hurry up and put in your order before I claim it all for myself,” he calls over his shoulder.
I pause and lean against the wall to take off my shoes, the low heels cute but not conducive to running after a man with legs twice the length of mine, before rushing after him.
Normally after a stressful day, I rush home, lock myself in my room, and fall asleep to my favorite show without bothering to find food, but Declan’s challenge awakens my competitive side, and I’ll be damned if I lose out on my favorites because of his big mouth.
His big, kissable mouth.
Following him to his apartment was stupid. I’m going to do something I regret.
That’s a problem for tomorrow’s me. Tonight’s me doesn’t give a shit.
Despite the queasiness in my belly from the bloodbath earlier today, visceral hunger throbs deep in my abdomen.
I may never say it out loud, but as far as I’m concerned, Declan Buchanan and I are even. From the first punch he threw on my behalf, I forgave him for abandoning me twenty years ago.
His violence stirred something in me, and I know without a doubt he’s the only one who can calm the storm.
Nervousness jitters up my spine, adding a delicious thrill to the fire raging inside me.
Just for tonight, I’m giving myself to Declan Buchanan. All of me. Nothing held back.
My clit throbs in anticipation, and my heart shouts with joy.
A small part of me warns against tying myself to him, especially in such an intimate way, but I don’t care.
I want Declan Buchanan, even if I can only allow myself one night with him.