Declan went into town, looking for ways to cheer her up. He was completely out of his element though. Emotions weren’t his thing, and he was completely out of his realm of expertise. Buying her a gun probably wasn’t the solution but it was the only thing he could think of. If it were safe, he would call home, talk to his mom or even his sister. But they had been estranged for a few years, while he was undercover, and calling now just wasn’t worth the risk.
He had stayed in touch with his brothers; they all worked together, and that is who he was relying on now in lieu of his agency, but they were as good with women as they were at knitting. Liam was the exception; he had been married but lost his wife tragically and hadn’t been the same since. Declan was on his own with his girl trouble, and it was as annoying as it sounded.
She had been drawing the past few days, riding the waves of her funk. Before she had Jax, and time became sparse, art was something she had immersed herself in. Obviously finding comfort in it now, he thought he would give her more.
He arrived back at the cottage with an arsenal of goods. Art was something that she used to enjoy until motherhood made time to do so difficult. He was happy to see her find comfort in something like that and thought he would indulge her, give her more options.
Bags full of fresh sugary baked goods, fresh cut flowers, and bundles of art supplies – he set them all on the kitchen counter while he looked for her. When she wasn’t in her room or out in her favorite spot on the deck, concern started to nudge him. He called for her with no answer, even scanned the property around the ponds using binoculars.
Nothing in the house was out of place. All of the doors and windows were still locked and the other car still parked in the garage, unused. With no signs of a struggle, he was at a loss. He was also worried. He roamed her room again, and her purse caught his eye. A clue. The purse was still there, but her wallet was gone.
Had she left? There was nothing around them, and the town was a good mile away. How would she have gotten there, and why didn’t he pass her on the road when he was headed back from there?
Barreling out the front door, he rushed to town and started looking for her. This was not only out of character for her, but it wasn’t safe. What could she possibly be doing there, alone.
Rapid Falls was small enough that he could do an effective search, quickly, on his own, without calling in help. He hoped. Declan wasn’t opposed to calling in the boys, though, if she didn’t turn up fast.
Parking in the center of town, he thought it best for a scan and search. Standing in the middle of town square, he looked at the surrounding buildings, prioritizing his search. Starting with boutiques, he cleared them one by one before moving on to the yoga studio and even the hair salon. There was no sign of her.
Being vegan, it didn’t seem likely that she would have sought out a meal at any of the three diners in town, but he searched anyway. Nothing. The hardware store, barber shop, and vacuum store were as likely to host her attention as thrift store shopping, but he checked all of those, too.
The only things left unchecked were a couple of bars. She didn’t drink, and when she did, it was the stuff that these places didn’t serve. However, she hadn’t been herself, so maybe drinking was on the agenda since she wasn’t anywhere else. Process of elimination landed him at the bar right in the heart of town. It wasn’t fancy, or even clean by most standards, but compared to the alternative, it was the Ritz Carlton and more her style.
When she wasn’t there, a sense of dread filled him. The last place to look was the second bar, and it was as shady and seedy as they came, sitting just at the edge of town. That hole in the wall dive drew in every type of traveler from the nearby highway and boasted a nightlife that would scare the devil himself. Not even the locals frequented the place. It was that awful they even shared an address.
His unease only grew at the sight of the rough and worn, beat to hell, redneck pickup trucks and rows of motorcycles that reflected the crowd of rough and tumble types who were inside. The kind of people who think laws and basic manners were nothing more than suggestions.
If she was in there, they weren’t getting out easily. A girl like her in a place like that was a ticking timebomb for ruckus since there was alcohol involved. They both just may be in over their heads on this one – as much as he wanted to find her, he prayed she wasn’t inside.
No such luck – the minute he walked in, his eyes landed on her. She was the only girl dressed for the gym with her tits tucked away in a sea of more skin than he cared to see, fish net stockings, and fuck me heels for days. Despite her modest attire, she was surrounded by leather clad, steel boot wearing wannabe bad boys with hair longer than hers.
Sitting right in front of her was a row of empty shot glasses and even a beer she was sipping with her pinkies out – that explained the volume in which she was speaking. Apparently, she was having trouble hearing herself over the booze and basket of half eaten burger remnants and fries sitting in front of her. She must only be a vegan when she’s sober.
Declan sat back at a corner table and just watched her. She was coping alright; this was her at rock bottom, taking shots with bikers and thugs. The pain was numb now, no doubt from the empty tequila bottle sitting next to her. But after the hang over, it would all be back. And he would be there to help her pick up the pieces.
Lydia had excused herself to the Ladies’ room, the booze adding a little confidence to her swagger by way of a sassy sway to her already all eyes on me hips. He thought the long leggings and t-shirt he picked out would make her tantalizing curves less tempting and wet dream provoking. He was wrong. That outfit made her fit body just that much more obvious, and he didn’t like the attention it was getting.
Her ass in those pants was what brought big strong men to their knees. He needed to get her a longer shirt or baggy sweatpants. Or…he could just keep her to himself, locked away, for his eyes only.
Stirred from his thoughts when she had yet to return and the men who were flocking her were gone, he quickly made his way across the bar and down a back hallway, not hesitating to enter the ladies’ room. All he found was a real classy woman wearing more makeup than a clown on acid, dressed like a cheap corner hooker trying to pay rent. She was giving a guy with a handful of her tits a cheap good time.
Back tracking a bit, he recalled seeing a third door at the end of the hallway he had come through and wondered if it had been an exit, or someplace a few guys could find privacy with a girl who didn’t belong there. Rushing through the door, his own imagination scaring him when he thought about what could be happening to her, he nearly ran right into the crowd when he burst through the door to the back alley.
“Fuck off!” Lydia spat in one of her admirers’ face. Not a help; someone save me, but fuck off. Liquid courage mixed with her temper meant things were about to get ugly.
Not sure if he should be impressed or angry with her for landing an elbow jab to the nose of one of the men attempting to manhandle her, he sized up the two men still standing before intervening. She was flanked by two, one on his knees in front of her, cupping his now bloody nose.
“You bitch.” The man fell to his knees, when Lydia’s revenge seeking knee landed right in the sweet spot between his legs, causing him to bend forward in pain, giving her knee a second clear shot, this time to his face. She knocked him flat on his ass.
“Who’s the bitch now? You really need to learn some manners and how to treat a fucking lady!” she laughed, pleased with the royal ass kicking she was delivering.
She stepped forward to hit him again, but there was something she hadn’t counted on. One, alcohol will make you stumble and distort your target. Two, this asshole had two friends. Her triumph quickly turned to fear when she was overpowered, and the man she attacked was looking at her like death was her calling.
“Oh shit!” she cried, closing her eyes, preparing for the assault she would surely receive that never came.
When the men to her sides grabbed he
r and slammed her against the wall, all Declan could see was red. He ripped them off of her, one at a time, but fought them simultaneously like it was no match at all. It was three to one, yet Declan fought like he outnumbered them and had the upper hand.
Lydia was shoved to the ground by one of her would be attackers. Reaching for a piece of a broken wooden pallet, she swung the plank, hitting one of her attackers across the knees, then grabbed his ankle and pulled his footing out from under him. Dec paused, noticing the action, and gave her an impressed look before the three finally gave up. With their injuries excessive, panting in exhaustion, their hands went up in surrender as they slowly backed away.
“That crazy bitch is all yours, man,” one hollered.
More of that liquid courage spoke out when Lydia took offense to being called anything but a lady, “Bitch?! Who you callin…”
“Lydia, that’s enough,” Declan panted through gritted teeth, never taking his don’t fuck with me stare off the men down the alleyway.
Certain they weren’t coming for round two, he offered a hand up to Lydia so they could get the hell out of there before word spread, and they had more company.
She stumbled on her feet and missed every bit of dirt she attempted to brush off of herself. “I had it under control.”
With a side-eye glare, he said, “Sure. Looked like it. Let’s go.”
With her feet firmly planted and hands on her hips, it seemed he was now on her ass kicking radar. “I did!”
He turned to her in a wide stance, crossing his arms, daring her to say more. And she did.
“I didn’t need you and all…this…” She waved her hands wildly in front of him, indicating he was this, and continued, “muscle to come to my rescue…again! I can take care of myself!”
Reasoning with a drunk was like reasoning with a hungry bear at a picnic. He grabbed her elbow, leading her the opposite direction as the men who still stood at the other end of the alley, plotting their round two. “Let’s go home, now.”
“No!” she said, yanking her arm from his grasp and crossed them in a tantrum-like fashion.
“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way!” Standing toe to toe with her, he placed his large hands around her small waist, tossing her over his shoulder, and walked to the end of the alley, headed toward town center where he had left the car.
Screaming and yelling, she hit his ass, over and over, trying to wiggle out of his grip. “Let me down! Jesus, your ass is tight and hard as a rock. Put me down!”
It wasn’t until the unfamiliar voice sounded that she realized Declan stopped dead in his tracks for reasons other than she had told him to. Stretching to her right, she tried to look around Declan to see who was getting a perfect eye height view of her ass on his shoulder.
“Heard there was a scuffle of sorts goin’ on out back. Wouldn’t know nothin’ about that, would ya?” The deputy sheriff looked around Declan to find an empty alley way, giving Lydia a nod and tip of his hat while he did.
Declan didn’t like how much time deputy Mayberry USA spent on Lydia’s ass, and though he’d never hit an officer of the law, he sure as hell wanted to in that moment. “Nope, all’s good here, sir.”
Still looking at her ass, he waved a finger up and down and asked, “What’s this here all about?”
“Oh, my old lady here had a few too many. She’s a little…ya know…” Declan used his free hand to gesture, as if he were drinking a cold mug of beer with a tipsy expression for dramatic effect.
“Old Lady?” Lydia shrieked, resuming tantrum mode with two fists to Declan’s ass. “I am not your…”
Before she could say more than she could take back and make life harder than it already was, Declan interrupted her with a loud overpowering voice, “She’s plastered pretty good. You know the type, I’m sure, given your line of work?”
“The type?! I’m right here, ya know!”
Ol’ Barney Fife gave Dec a knowing nod and relaxed in his stance. “A real handful, huh?”
Playing the scene like it was straight out of Hollywood, Declan snapped his free finger and pointed it at the law man. “See, you do know the type – a lot of trouble – but can’t seem to let ’em go.”
A huffy near growl of frustration roared through Lydia, “What? Oh my… He is not with me!”
The deputy straightened at her comment, as if her plea came across as something sinister. Staring Declan down, he placed one hand on his weapon and the other on his holstered night stick.
“She’s just mad. I wouldn’t let her eat my burger.” He turned his head as if tossing his emphasized words over his shoulder to send her a message only she would understand. “She’s a vegan, but apparently booze makes her a carnivorous meat fiend.”
Declan tossed a half shrug and eye roll in with his shaking head, hoping to make it even more ridiculous than it sounded.
“Vegan – right…” The deputy sheriff had a bewildered look about him, probably didn’t know what a vegan was.
“Anyway, I better get this one home before the booze wears off and the room starts spinning. I don’t want to clean that out of the car again. Ewwww.” Declan finished with a disgusted shudder.
“Put me down, Declan!” she shouted.
He froze, as did she, at the use of his real name.
In a quick recovery attempt, he laughed and tossed a thumb over his shoulder in her direction and shook his head once again – he was getting whiplash. “See? My name’s Decker. She’s drunker than I thought.”
He finally put her down when she began to kick again and create a scene he may not be able to bullshit his way out of.
Combing her hands over her hair first, she took a deep breath and straightened out her bunched-up top before landing her hands on her halfcocked hips. She stumbled, Declan catching her, glad the alcohol was helping him out and making her look foolish.
“See, he’s kidnapped me and he’s trying to make me do what he says in his little prison.” With her nose in the air, she turned and nodded to Dec as if saying ha before giving her attention back to the deputy sheriff.
Declan thought, this ought to be good, and crossed his arms and plastered on a cocky grin she had yet to see before.
“Uh, what’s that little lady? Prison?” the officer asked.
Raising his right hand and swirling his index finger at the side of his head in an exaggerated gesture he let out a long sinking whistle and topped it with yet another eye roll suggesting she was crazy. He was getting really good at those eye rolls.
Offended, she let out a sharp gasp while her face took on a deep crimson he hadn’t seen on her before. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that was the moment he feared he had gone a bit too far. She – was – pissed.
Whipping out her I.D. and handing it to the officer, she went on to tell him exactly who she was, albeit in a drunken manner. “My name is Lydia, Esteban’s wife. He’s a bad man killed some guys, and now he’s chasing me because I’m dead all of a sudden, and I don’t know where my sister is because she has my son, and we need to arrest the husband, so you need to arrest this guy because he’s hiding out too, and I need another beer now!”
“Uhhh,” the deputy started while flicking her I.D. between his fingers, “Says here your name is, Emily Black.”
Slack jawed and wide eyed, she realized what she had just done, and it wasn’t helping her any more than it was blowing her cover. Who would believe that story? Time to clarify.
With a charming smile and sweet voice, she tried her hand at sweet talking the guy into believing her. “That’s exactly what I meant, Emily Black, but that’s my undercover name.”
And with that, she sealed the deal and Declan clearly won this battle. He couldn’t have done a better job throwing someone off their trail with a bullshit story than she did with the truth.
“See what I mean? I better get her home before the bad man comes to get her. I’m sorry to have wasted your time, sir.” He tossed her back over his shoulder and walked away, toward th
e town square like he had attempted just before her fit.
“Wait, but that’s not me. I mean it looks like me, but, it’s not me, that’s Emily, well I’m Emily, but I’m not really…”
Declan turned to the deputy sheriff and added one final thought to get off his radar, “Thank you for your service, sir. It’s a down right honorable and selfless job you do.”
Since she couldn’t shut up, Lydia continued her tirade, “Oh please…in a town like this? He’s basically a security guard.”
Playing along and taking every opportunity she gave him, Declan slapped her ass and said, “Now don’t go being rude, Emily. I think you need to stick to root beer.”
The sheriff wandered in to the bar when they got to their car, and Declan set her down, opening her door for her. “Get in, now.”
With one arm crossed and the other upright while she inspected her nails, she firmly stated, “No.”
He gritted his teeth, “Lydia, I am not playing around.”
She laughed and tossed her head back, enjoying his torture, “Lydia? Don’t you mean, Emily? What’s your name again? Oh, right…Decker?”
“For Christ sake, Emily, Lydia, whoever the hell you are…get in!”
“You’re not the boss of me, you know!” That even sounded childish to her, if children slurred and swayed in alcohol induced tantrums.
The roaring timbre of his voice quaked through her, getting her attention. “Quit acting like a spoiled brat and get in the fucking car, or I’ll be forced to…I don’t know…put your ass in the trunk, but not until after I give it a good spanking.”
“You’re such a bully,” she said, getting in the final word before climbing into her seat.
“And you’re a pampered princess. There, we’re even!” He walked to the driver side of the car and got in, speeding out of town before they drew any more negative attention to themselves. At that hour, when it was dark, and few people were around, they were sitting ducks. He’d kindly remind her of that when she was sober.
Brother's Keeper V: Wylie (the complete series BOX SET): NEW RELEASE + Series Box SET included! Page 8