CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STELLA
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Declan squeezes my hand as we walk through Central Park. It’s been two weeks since Tony Marino abducted me, and I’ve barely left the house.
The media got wind of it, and for days it was all over social and the front page of the NY Times. Some other news has finally taken the stage, so I pushed Declan to take me for a walk.
His little squeezes are more for his reassurance than mine, I’m sure of it. I am safe with him.
My very own Navy SEAL.
My very own bodyguard.
Although I won’t need one soon. I’m selling the penthouse, and the agent thinks he has a buyer.
I want to leave New York, but Declan has just started a new job. He’s been clear that while he can get his head around my wealth, he still wants to live a normal life.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I told him. “It’s why I became an author.”
“Then where would you want to live?”
“I was going to run away to an island and see if you’d come with me,” I grinned while making us breakfast one morning. “Before I went to Dad's.”
“Fuck, Stella. Why didn’t you?”
I lifted a shoulder and kept buttering the toast. “You know why. I should have let him die.”
“Hey.” He took my hand, coming up behind me. “You were manipulated in the worst way. Don’t make yourself wrong for being a loving and kind person.”
He gently turned me, dropping the knife on the board, then cupped my face.
“I should have told you. That night the boys were here.”
I did a little laugh when he refrained from agreeing with me.
“Well, we are here now, and you are safe. And mine,” Declan said...for the millionth time. “So, guess I should tell you I also had a fantasy about kidnapping you and hiding away on some island.”
I chuckled. “Really?”
“Yes,” he nodded, running his hands over my cheek. “Me tending bar, you writing your books naked—”
I slapped his chest.
“Fine, in a bikini. Our kids running around.”
“Kids?” I grinned.
“Four of them.”
“My God!” I laughed. “Let’s start with two.”
Those words of his have been rattling around in my mind for days, and now that I know the penthouse is going to sell, we need to think about our next steps.
Declan is my future; I know that.
The painting I gifted him hangs in the hallway, almost like a bridge between us. That moment opened us up and feels like the start of our lives merging. Perhaps it was his father nudging us together.
Charlotte loves him.
She visited a few days after the shooting and wasted no time running across the living room, diving on me. “Stella. Never ever, ever do that again.”
“She’s not marrying anyone else. Don’t worry,” Declan said from behind.
“Char, meet Declan. He’s...not my bodyguard.”
“FBI?” she asked.
“Nope, he’s my...” I frowned, unsure what to call him.
“Boyfriend.” Declan crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.
“Oh. Whoa. All this time?”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Declan answered at the same time.
I laughed. “We were sleeping together, but now it's official.”
I made us all lunch, and we updated her on the entire situation. Charlotte said she wasn’t moving in with David and asked Declan lots of questions about his life in the Navy and where he grew up.
It was nice to see them interacting.
My world feels like it's evolving into something new and wonderful. We are creating it day by day, as opposed to being dictated to. I’m hopeful and excited.
“Did Josh call?” I ask as we wander over one of the pretty bridges in Central Park.
“Not yet,” Declan releases my hand and places it on my back as we stop and look out over the lake.
It’s cold. The foliage is golden, and leaves have fallen, covering the ground everywhere. Everyone is dressed up in coats, hats, and gloves, including us.
Declan wraps his large body around me and kisses my forehead.
I let out a sigh. “Do you think they will arrest him?”
My father is still walking free.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. These things are very complicated. We will keep advocating for it; I promise.”
Mom tried to ring me dozens of times after the abduction. I refused to take her calls. Every time the phone would ring, I’d end up bawling my eyes out.
It’s one thing hating your parents, but love is far more powerful. Despite the facts.
Still, I will never forgive them.
One day during lunch the phone rang, Mom’s name appearing on screen.
“Give me the word, and I’ll deal with this,” Declan growled.
I nodded.
I wasn’t strong enough yet.
He picked up the phone and took a few steps away. “Mrs. Voss. This is Declan Sloan, Stella’s partner. She does not want to speak to you. Please stop calling.”
As he pulled the phone from his ear, I heard her screeching.
I dropped my face into my hands.
“Give her time. What you both did is despicable,” he said. “Do not call again.”
She did.
I had to block the number.
My lawyer has moved my trust fund into a new account so there can be no manipulation of money, and the penthouse is in my name. I could walk away from it all, but they owe me.
I did save my father's life, but at great cost to me.
That monster touched me. I might not have been conscious, but it’s still rape. I won’t let him wreck my life, but it will always remain a part of my story.
“I think we should move out of New York.” I lean on the banister. “Would you be okay with that?”
His job.
I know it's important to him.
“Where do you want to live?” Declan asks, his hands circling my back.
“Not sure. If you want four kids, we need to relocate to somewhere with good schools and a community.” I smile up at him. “Unless you didn’t mean it.”
“Nice try.” He tweaks my nose and then kisses my lips. “I mean it. I want you to come home to meet my mom for Thanksgiving next week.”
I gasp.
“Really?” Nerves blast through me.
“Yup, she wants to meet you.” Declan glances out across the lake. “You might like Connecticut.”
I feel my cheeks warm as a full-body smile rushes through me.
Are we doing this? Creating a life?
Creating a life together.
“What about your job?”
Declan turns me to face him. “Spoke to Josh. Greenwich, Connecticut, is the hedge fund capital of the world. A lot of people want private security. He said if I relocated, I could work from there and join team meetings once a month back in Manhattan.”
I do a little dance on the spot.
“You might hate it.” He laughs.
“I won’t hate it.”
I could still see Charlotte, as it's only forty minutes away from the city and even stick with my same hairdresser. These things are important.
“I won’t hate it because I love you,” I say, and his entire face becomes a smile.
I know he’s been waiting for me to say it. Being let down by those you once loved and trusted is a hard thing. Those three words have been on the tip of my tongue, especially when we’ve made love.
But I wanted to wait until it felt safe.
Safe, and I knew it was true, not because I was scared or needed saving.
I don’t. Not anymore.
“You love me, huh?” Declan grips the back of my head. “Say it again.”
“I love you, my bodyguard.”
“I know. You love me from day one.”
“Well, that’s a stretch—” His mouth slams down on mine as I giggle, and he kisses the hell out of me.
Then we find a bench, and I pull out my phone and start scrolling through properties. Declan leans over my shoulder, and together we search for a home.
I’ve never been happier in my life.
The following week, just as we’re preparing to leave to see his mom on Thanksgiving, I feel a wave of nausea hit.
I know immediately what it is.
Oh boy.