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Brother's Keeper I: Declan

Page 13

by Stephanie St. Klaire


  “Oh. You won’t believe me if I tell you,” he said, realizing just how much they did sound like something right out of an action-packed film.

  “At this point, Declan O’Reilly, I’d believe just about anything. Need I remind you, I was, or am, or…whatever, married to an International criminal who’s some kind of crazy cartel warlord guy?”

  “Good point. All three are O’Reillys. Ronan and Ryker are also twins – they just don’t look like it but most definitely act like it. Very much the opposite of Liam and Luke who look it but don’t act it. The girl is their sister, my cousin, Sheridan.”

  “They work for Brother’s Keeper too then?” she asked.

  “No. That’s the part you won’t believe. They’re bounty hunters, but not like those you see on T.V., who come after you because you don’t show up for court when you’re busted for pot. They go after the world’s biggest and worst criminals. We work together a lot and help each other out.”

  “You’re right; I don’t really believe you. There’s no way Sheridan is an O’Reilly,” she laughed. “She is tiny and beautiful, and you boys are all…not tiny. What do you all eat to make you so…big?” She enjoyed hearing about his family – the whole story. There was so much passion running through that family. No wonder they were close and worked so well together and did the job that they did like it was nothing more than delivering pizza.

  “Hey,” he said, still holding her in his embrace, “There’s a festival in town tonight. A big town-sized crab boil – there’s a table the length of a city block covered in…well…crab boil stuff. Go with me.”

  “Hmmm, changing the subject. Interesting,” she teased. “So, like a…date?”

  “Well, uh, no, not a date. More like…” He wasn’t sure how to answer. A date implied dating, and they couldn’t cross that bridge. “You deserve a night out. Some fun.”

  She nodded her head assuredly and replied, “Let’s have some fun then.”

  DECLAN FOUND HIMSELF out for another run down the beach. Lydia didn’t think it odd since he liked to go running and tended to do it several times a day to break up the monotony. What she didn’t know was the reason for this run was entirely because of her. It had little to do with habits and routine, and had everything to do with relieving the rock-hard ache that made his shorts so tight he could hardly breathe.

  Feeling her against him, her smell, the heat and close proximity was enough to make him forget everything and have his way with her. He had desperately wanted to take her mouth in that moment. After months, years really, of trying to bury that burning desire that she stirred, he nearly had his taste of her. Like the universe was intervening, reminding him of boundaries and why he had them, it sent a sign in the form of a low flying military cargo plane with a startling rumble. It felt more like a cold shower though.

  She had wandered in and out of his thoughts by day and dominated his dreams by night. His heart, too, if he was being honest with himself. And today, he had her in his arms. She made him feel despite his efforts not to. He had a hard time reconciling that because he wasn’t an emotional guy. He didn’t feel, couldn’t feel after all he had been through, all he had seen in his line of work. Even when she was acting like a spoiled brat, pissing him off, she set his heart and steely length ablaze. He was on fire from the inside out and could no longer fight it. He was in trouble.

  The last time he let a case, a woman, in – they both nearly died, and he wasn’t nearly as invested then as he was now. He needed to find a way to put distance between them. As much as it pained him to – there was no other choice – he had to keep her at arm’s length no matter how close he wanted her – needed her.

  At some point, he had made it all the way back to the house with no recollection of actually getting there; he had been so distracted by his thoughts. He stood on the deck, stretching as his cool down when he made the decision to be a cliché and exercise the ole if you love them, let them go. Love may be a stretch and not exactly where they were, but it was more than friendship.

  Letting her go now, before it reached a point that would prove more difficult was necessary. To keep her safe, he had to break her heart, and in turn, break his own. After their night out.

  Pulled from his place of wounded emotions, the ring of his new burner phone had his attention as he walked inside the house. It was his brother – that wasn’t good.

  Before Declan could get out a proper hello, Luke began to speak urgently, “Esteban’s men are in the area.”

  Declan began to pace the floor, dread settling in. “How’d they find us.”

  “Not sure – Liam is tracing now, trying to find any leads that put them there.”

  “Okay, keep me posted,” Dec said, searching the house for Lydia.

  “You gotta go, man. Get outta there. Now. We’re coming your way; don’t wait for us though,” Luke incited.

  Declan cleared the house and rushed back outside, looking everywhere. “One problem, man. I can’t find Lydee.”

  “Shit. We’re on our way. We’re a step ahead of them. We’ll find her before they do,” Luke assured.

  Declan did a quick sweep of the house, grabbing their bags, and ran to the detached garage next to the house and hopped in the car that had been stored there. “I’m checking town. Fuck, she must’ve gone without me.”

  He knew they were never coming back to this house once he found her. They were running again. If Esteban’s men were looking too, there would be no time to come back and switch cars and risk getting ID’d, or worse, trapped.

  An inkling of sadness briefly took stage. He would miss Mossy Bridge and their house. He knew they wouldn’t be there forever, but being forced out after all they went through while there felt a little disappointing.

  Perhaps this was all a giant sign from the universe again. Just when things heat up, and he decides to cool it – this. This is exactly why they couldn’t be anything more than professional. It was too risky. Not only that, but he couldn’t handle the worry that came with her being missing. God, he hoped he found her in time.

  Scouring the town turned up nothing. He couldn’t find her. Though they were past that phase, he even checked the bars. Finally catching a tip, the sales associate at a corner boutique said she had been there. She also said he was the second person who had asked about her. Esteban’s men had been there, and they were a step ahead of Dec. There was that heavy dread, swirling in his gut again.

  “What did you tell him, or them, about her?” he questioned, his panic threatening to consume him.

  “Nothing. I said I’d never seen her. She was sweet, and they weren’t, so I put two and two together,” the senior woman said.

  “Wait, then why are you telling me? This is important, so please don’t send me on a wild goose chase,” he chided.

  “I’m telling you because I think you’re the one she was talking about – the one she kept smiling about, I’m guessing.” The woman blushed, and looked him up and down. “You’re the one she was shopping for, aren’t you?”

  Declan stood in surprise – he made her smile. “I hope so.”

  He started out the door but stopped just before stepping through and asked, “What did she buy?”

  “A pretty dress and shoes,” she answered.

  He grinned; she was in town buying something for their night out. As flattered as he was, it was all the more reason for boundaries. This is exactly why they couldn’t pursue any kind of relationship – it wasn’t safe, and the worry was near painful.

  Back in the town square, he scanned the surroundings, trying to decide where to look next. He also scanned the faces, looking for danger when his eyes locked on the only salon in town, which was across the road from where he stood, on the opposite corner.

  Recalling what the sales woman at the boutique said about her purchase, the salon made sense. New dress and shoes, neither practical for their lifestyle – why not a new hairdo? It was about their evening out, their non-date. She had to be there. If not, he did
n’t know what he would do.

  Both anger and relief flooded him when he walked in, and Lydia was the only customer there. She sat in a chair in front of a large mirror where she watched the stylist run her fingers through Lydia’s wet hair. It looked as though the stylist, with big hair and bold makeup, was trying to talk Lydia into one style or another when Declan stood by the gum smacking stylist and looked at Lydia in the mirror.

  “Wh-what are you doing…here?” Lydia asked, concern etched in her face when she saw his angry expression.

  “We’re leaving,” He fired back, his tone matching his expression.

  “But I haven’t even…” Her face drained of color, and her eyes widened. She knew something was wrong. That face meant he was mad.

  “Now!” He helped her out of the chair, unhooked the cape that had been draped over her, and grabbed the shopping bags sitting next to her on the floor.

  He pulled her in the direction of the door when she protested. “Dec, I haven’t even got my hair cut yet.”

  “Another time – let’s go, now,” he demanded.

  Lydia looked at him, searching his eyes for the answers he wasn’t giving her. His emerald green eyes were dark and stormy, but he wasn’t just angry with her; he was frightened. That could only mean one thing. That’s when the awareness and then fear washed over her.

  “Hey hon?” the stylist interrupted. “It’ll only take us ‘bout thirty or so minutes. We can do this quick.”

  He slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, and turned to say, “Another time.”

  “Oh honey, that’s too much money. I only washed her hair, didn’t cut a lick,” the stylist said.

  “Keep it,” he said, then grabbed a floppy summer hat from a nearby sales rack. “We’ll take the hat, too.”

  Putting the money in her pocket, satisfied with the bargain now, she said, “Well, alright now, y’all take care. Come back and see me hon.”

  Rushing Lydia out the door, he put the hat on her head then grabbed a baseball cap from his back pocket. He put it on, along with a pair of sunglasses that had been hanging from the neck of his t-shirt.

  “Don’t look at anyone. Just keep walking, and don’t let go of me.” Pulling her arm through his, he kept her close to protect her, but also so they would blend in like a couple out shopping.

  “Declan, what’s going on,” she said softly, fear evident in her shaky voice.

  When he didn’t answer she whispered, “Dec, you’re scaring me.”

  “Just walk, quickly. We’ll be fine,” he said, short and direct. They were back to that.

  “Dec…”

  He looked her sharply in the eye, almost unable to finish his thought, the anger was so great. “You weren’t home. You were gone. I didn’t know…I didn’t know where you were! Now, walk!”

  He was cold again. It seemed he could revert back to this personality on a whim, whenever he got a stick up his ass. Lydia thought they were past this stage, but apparently not. When they approached an unfamiliar car, she knew exactly why he was angry with her. They needed to run, and he couldn’t find her.

  Guilt. It seemed that could come flying back on a whim, too. If they were running, it meant they were running from someone. Esteban. A chill coursed through her, causing her to lose focus and stumble in fear.

  Declan caught her and helped her in the car, grabbing her bags and stowing them away in the back. That’s when she noticed their duffle bags. They were leaving.

  Quickly making his way around to his side of the car, he opened the door but only stood there. He glanced around once more, looking for anyone out of place, or worse…familiar. If they were in town, he didn’t see them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t see him.

  They were on their way, headed out of town toward the freeway when she finally found her words. “This isn’t our car, Declan. This…this…it’s happening again, isn’t it?”

  “Just leave the hat on, Lydia. We need to get out of here,” he said.

  “I didn’t do anything. I swear! I only used cash, said my name was Pearla,” she reasoned, tears spilling over, hoping to get out of whatever trouble she was in with him.

  “You ever heard of a note?! Or, here’s an idea; just wait for me to get back so we can go together? Seriously, what the hell do you need with a new dress that couldn’t wait?”

  In a small wounded voice, she said, “I wanted to look nice tonight at the festival. New dress, new hair…I wanted to feel pretty for a change – for…you.”

  Sitting at a stop sign, waiting for a large crowd of festival goers to cross the road, his glare bore through her. As if her desire to please him only made him more mad. She didn’t understand why.

  Finally able to proceed, he returned his gaze to the road and went through the intersection when his focus shifted to three men with their backs to them. Completely out of place in what were supposed to be expensive looking suits but were just cheap knock offs. His cold and steely demeanor shifted to something she hadn’t seen before – and it was frightening.

  Lydia followed the direction he was staring and caught the profile of one of the men, and her heart stalled. “Oh, my God, Dec. Oh, my…”

  Her eyes were glued; she couldn’t stop staring, paralyzed by the fear that realizing who those men were generated. If they looked over, the look alone would give them away.

  “Look at me. Just look at me, Lydee, not them,” he said calmly.

  Doing as he asked, she held her breath, suppressing the sob trying to escape her as the tears flooded her pale face. That look, those tears, that fear she held crushed him. She was scared, and that was way too close.

  He hit the steering wheel and shouted damn it, causing her to jump, allowing the sobs to escape her. He was mad, angry, and even murderous when he thought about what could have happened. What if he had been a bit longer on his run? What if Luke hadn’t called when he did? What if he had gone right instead of left, leading him to the salon?

  They were only a few city blocks from her. They were asking about her. They almost got to her first.

  A thick tension filled the car and was nearly intolerable. They had been driving over an hour, jumping from one highway to the next, burning through city after city, crossing counties as fast as they could. Leaving Moss Bridge, Mississippi as far behind as they could, and fast.

  Declan hadn’t said a word and had the same white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and clenched jaw that he did the minute they left. The only words he shared were with his brothers to let them know he had her and they were out of town. He gave them brief instructions, as well as descriptions of the men, and that was the end of the call.

  She struggled with her emotions. First there was fear that Esteban was looking for her. She was stumped on the how of it all – how did they know where to look? And why now?

  Then there was guilt. She had made Declan so angry, and he was right to be. She was so smitten and excited about her evening out that she hadn’t thought the thing through. A quick walk into town for a new dress turned into an afternoon of attempted pampering. Even if she had left a note, the situation wouldn’t have changed. The bad guys were lurking, and she was about to walk right into them.

  Anger. Man, was she angry with herself, Esteban and his associates, and even Declan. Bad judgement on her part? Sure, she should have left a damn note. But it wasn’t her fault that trouble was in town, and she certainly didn’t lure them.

  Declan, however, had the emotions of a rock and temper of a hot pepper. The rollercoaster of let’s be friends and I almost kissed you and get in the fucking car was just more than she had in her to deal with. Maybe this was a good thing; maybe this meant Esteban was coming out of hiding, and this would be over soon.

  She was sad to leave the place that was starting to feel like home. It was also where she finally started to figure out who she was, and it was someone she admired and was proud of. But it was also the place where her relationship had begun and abruptly ended, given the demeanor of the m
an sitting next to her.

  Raking his hand through his hair as he had every few minutes the past hour, Declan abruptly pulled the car to the right and took the next exit off the freeway and through a random city. Surely this wasn’t their next stop – they weren’t nearly far enough away. They should keep driving like they always did.

  Lydia noticed Dec’s scowl and the reddening of his face. His sharp turns and reckless weaving between cars had her gripping her seat. The bustling city had turned to a desolate industrial area. After one final sharp turn between two tall brick buildings that had seen better days, he finally parked and stormed out of the car.

  His dark eyes full of fury never left hers as he moved around the front of the car and opened her car door. She reluctantly removed her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. He grabbed her by both arms and backed her against the cold rough brick wall, pinning her arms above her head with one hand while the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head back.

  His body was hard against hers, everywhere. He kissed her. Long, hard, and hungry. He put one leg between hers, pressing against her intimately, feeling her heat against his thigh, but his intention was for her to feel what she was doing to him.

  His hard length pressed against her abdomen, just above her hip, earning him a sultry moan that had his knees weak and his excitement ready to unleash. Both were breathless after breaking the kiss that had been building for months. Resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed, he let go of her hands – they fell to rest around his neck, her touch nearly his undoing. His large hands were wrapped around her small waist, just under the hem of her shirt where he stroked her skin up and down.

  “I was so worried, Lydee. I thought…” his voice quaked in an uneasy, shaken, timbre.

  She kissed him once more before he could say another word, this time sweet and endearing. “Shhh…I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry, Lydee.”

  “For what? What could you possibly be sorry for?” she asked.

  Watching his features, looking deep into his eyes, she was trying to decide which Declan she was dealing with – it was beginning to look like a side she’d yet to see – one of deep passion and vulnerability.

 

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