Fight (Fate Series Book 1)

by Paige Hill

  Realizing I am smiling at myself like a loon, I reluctantly drag my thoughts back to the present. Having found what he needs, he resumes his position on the floor.

  “This is probably going to hurt a little.” I simply nod in acknowledgement. From the small kit, he pulls out tweezers, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and bandages. A smile tugs at my lips as visions of a muscle-bound, tattooed Declan prepping for surgery invade my thoughts. Under different circumstances, this scenario would have been comical.

  Carefully cradling my foot, piece by piece, Declan pulls small shards of glass from my feet and places them into a small trash can. His hands heat my skin and I can feel the blush creep its way up my body. The way he holds me is so delicate, as if he’s afraid he could break me, and his tenderness belies his size and general demeanor. That’s the part I should fear… Have I given him the power to break me? That is one very important lesson I have learned in this life; only you can give someone the power to control how you feel. It’s a thought I do not care to finish because I am afraid of the answer.

  I continue to watch him work with intense fascination. Having Declan on his knees before me, still fully dressed in tactical gear, is yet another thing he has unwittingly done that makes me feel empowered. The pain barely registers as I am entirely lost in the allure of him. The lines of his face, the warmth of his hands, the gracefulness of his movements—every thought raises more questions. I don’t know much about the man Declan really is.

  “HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS BATMAN!” Aw! Aw! Aw! It feels like someone just torched the bottom of my feet with gasoline.

  “I told you it was going to hurt,” he sputters between chuckles.

  “I’m glad you find this funny. Fucker.” I snap, shooting a fake glare at him, which only causes him to laugh harder.

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He surrenders with a smile firmly in place as he begins to wrap my feet in gauze. “I figured it would be better if I didn’t warn you.” A slight dimple appears on his left cheek, making the hard lines of his face slightly boyish. It’s an adorable look, one I imagine has broken many hearts. My thoughts threaten to make the moment heavier than I am ready for, so I try to focus on something more neutral.

  “Whose place is this? It must have cost a fortune.”

  “It belongs to Briggs. It’s part of his inheritance. He doesn’t come out here much, though.” He says with a far off look in his eye. His demeanor tells me there is a story as to why but it’s not my place to ask.

  “Well, it’s beautiful. I couldn’t imagine wanting to leave a place like this.” My words are sincere. This home is breathtaking. He finishes bandaging my feet and silently reaches out to inspect my hand. His expression darkens as the lines of his face go rigid. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he begins to clean the wound.

  “How did this happen? He didn’t get inside the house.” He pauses momentarily, a look of doubt on his beautiful face. “Did he?” he asks, and his voice drips with uncertainty.

  “Oh God no. I can’t fully blame that on him. I panicked and cut myself with the knife. It really is okay. I don’t think it’s that deep.” I try to pull my hand back, but his grip tightens just slightly. The sensation of my hand in his sends an electrical pulse up my arm, almost as if I were shocked.

  “Please, just let me take care of you,” he pleads, as deep green eyes look up at me from his knelt position. His request causes my throat to tighten. Unable to form words, I relax my arm, silently relenting. Neither of us speak as he works. I watch him closely, unsure if the concentration on his face is simply for the sake of the wound or to keep his mind off other things.

  When he is finished doctoring all my wounds, he places his hands on my hips and slowly lowers my feet to the floor.

  “Thank you,” is all I can muster at this point. I am beyond the point of exhaustion, both physically and emotionally. With one arm snuggly around my waist, he helps me out of the bathroom. My feet ache, making each step difficult. The earlier adrenaline has worn off, leaving nothing but the heaviness of the situation.

  “I think we could both use some sleep,” he declares as he directs me toward the bed. “I left our bags in the Jeep. I will be right back.”

  I watch his retreating back, staring at the doorway much longer than is acceptable. Snapping out of my trance, I weigh my options. I could turn myself over to police and hope a judge sees through Mark’s lies, I can keep running, or I can surrender. Even in the very unlikely event a judge and jury take mercy on me, I shot a man with an unregistered weapon. If I run, how long will I be running? Will he ever give up? I am not sure what kind of life I could ever have if I’m constantly on the run. Surrender is not an option. I’d rather die than be touched by him again. An involuntary shiver slithers its way up my spine at the thought.

  “Sunshine, are you cold?” Declan asks, causing me to startle.

  “No, I’m just really tired.” His eyes scrutinize my expression carefully, but he says nothing.

  “Here is your bag. Do you think you will be able to change by yourself with the bandages?”

  “Yeah, I will be fine. Thank you.”

  Grabbing the bag, I hobble into the bathroom and quickly change into a pair of capri-length yoga pants and a tank top. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I gather my things and limp back toward the bedroom. Declan stands as I enter the room, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. After the night he’s had, I can only imagine how he feels.

  Leaning down to place a tender kiss in my hair, he nearly whispers, “goodnight, Sunshine.” Pulling back to face me, he adds, “I will be in the guest room just down the hall if you need anything.”

  Fear and anxiety begin to bubble deep inside my chest. The thought of being alone in this large house generates unwanted thoughts to the point of feeling paralyzed. Panic seizes the air from my lungs as I plead.

  “Please stay.” The words come out haggard, but he stops mid stride and turns to face me. Concern creases his forehead as he crosses the room and settles in beside me. Taking my hand in his calloused one, his eyes wander my face as if he were trying to read my thoughts.

  “I thought you would want some time alone after everything that happened. Leaving you is the last thing I want to do.”

  I allow the warmth of his words to surround me, soaking up every bit of affection he has to offer. I expected it to be difficult for me to trust or get close to a man after Mark, but Declan has shattered every preset notion I had. Time and time again he proves me wrong. Before I can overthink the situation, I lean in, melding my lips with his. Declan places a hand on either side of my face, threading his fingers into my hair. His movement deepens the kiss, erasing every dark thought from my mind. All too soon, he pulls away.

  “I’m gonna go change out of this shit. Get comfortable and yell if you need me.”

  His kiss drained the last bit of energy from my body. I curl myself into the most luxurious bed I have ever slept on. The sheets are cool on my skin and made of the softest cotton. I lie there, listening to the faint sounds of the ocean, cradled on a cloud and feeling safer than I ever thought possible. Only then do I allow the heavy drapery of sleep to take me.

  My body feels beat after the shit that went down today. Ridding myself of the heavy clothing, I stretch out my aching muscles. Tension has snaked its way up my back. Resting the palms of my hands against the cool marble of the vanity, I lower my head, leaning my body weight against it. The darker my thoughts become, the tighter my muscles knot. I’m wound up tight and on the verge of snapping. Something I have found hard to repress for many years. If it happens, it’s going to be fucking nasty. It doesn’t seem possible that a woman I barely know has the power to light a fire I staunched long ago.

  Ready to call it a night, I push off the vanity and brush my teeth.

  Crawling into bed next to Teagan, I take a moment to watch her. She looks so peaceful as she sleeps. Her delicate features are relaxed as she exhales barely audible snores. This woman deserves so mu
ch more than me. She is beautiful inside and out. She has been alone and fighting for survival her entire life, yet she is still able to see the beauty in the world. Teagan is the strongest and most resilient person I have ever met. She deserves nothing less than the world at her feet. But that makes me a selfish man because goddamn it, I may not be good enough for her, but I will do whatever it takes to lay the world at her feet and make sure she knows she is worth it all. When she referred to that fucker as her husband, it fueled the raging inferno in my chest. There is a fire there, one I fully intend to unleash on that sick fuck. The “what ifs” have me on edge. I simply can’t stomach the thought of what could have happened tonight. I should have never left. I failed to protect her. Just like I failed to protect my mom.

  The warmth of the sun’s rays greets me when I open my eyes. It takes a moment to get oriented. Last night’s events come rushing back, bringing a wave of nausea. The most intimate moment of my life, tainted.

  Pushing all negativity from my mind, I lie there perfectly still and watch the waves roll in. There is something so calming about the ocean. My stomach growls in protest and suddenly, nothing sounds more perfect than a cup of coffee and this view.

  Sitting up, I stretch, realizing that Declan is gone. Oh God! My breathing quickens before logic sets in. You’re not alone. Get it together, Teagan. I mentally slap myself and swing my feet over the edge of the bed, testing the tenderness. To my surprise, there isn’t much pain. Standing slowly, my stomach barks at me again, reminding me to get a move on.

  After a quick, much needed shower, I dress in denim shorts and a loose tank. The cuts on my feet are looking good, so I chose to wear comfortable sandals and allow the wounds to breathe. I stare at myself in the mirror for a long while. I can’t find the desire to put on makeup and my stomach is planning a revolt, so I quickly braid my hair over one shoulder and head out in search of Declan. I mean food.

  Declan was waiting for me as I entered the kitchen.

  Wow.

  Just wow.

  I’m on sensory overload. Before me, stands the most delectable man I’ve ever met and he’s looking at me like I’m the Holy Grail. But it’s not just him, there is the delicious aroma of cinnamon in the air and the cup of coffee he holds, just for me. The intensity of his stare sends a jolt through my core. Clad in only a pair of athletic shorts, his abs are perfectly on display. Taking advantage of the picture before me, I peruse his form, and it’s then I notice the various spots of flour covering his torso.

  “I made breakfast,” he exclaims confidently, with a huge smile on his gorgeous face.

  I can’t help the silly school girl giggle that escapes.

  “Good, I’m starving, and it looks delicious.”

  Not just the food, either.

  I accept the warm mug he offers and follow him out to the terrace. My face hurts, I’m smiling so hard. Declan has a breakfast table set up directly in front of the amazing ocean view. Sea air filled with cinnamon and coffee and the unique spice that is Declan—it’s an intoxicating combination.

  “Sit. Have breakfast with me.”

  I’ve pretty much been rendered mute. The vice on my heart cinches as I look around and realize this, right here, is exactly what I needed. Declan has found a way to soothe my physical wounds as well as my soul.

  I am unable to wait any longer and dig into my cinnamon roll. Oh, my God. The sugary goodness melts the moment it hits my tongue.

  “You really need to stop doing that. I don’t think you are ready for the consequences.”

  I look up, suddenly realizing my eyes were closed.

  “Huh?” I ask, a little confused, until I notice Declan adjusting himself.

  “Watching you eat is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. If that’s how you react to pastries, the kitchen is going to be full of them every morning,” he quips, his face set in a sexy smile.

  “Sorry,” I mumble through a mouthful of heaven. “But damn, these are good.”

  “Thanks. My mom taught me how to make them.” He looks out toward to horizon thoughtfully.

  “Would you tell me about your mom?” Immediately I throw a hand up. “I mean if you want to talk about it, I’d like to hear.” He stares at me for a moment before a look eerily close to admiration crosses his features.

  “You really want to know about my mom?” He questions as if no one had ever asked him that question before. Maybe no one ever has…

  “She was beautiful. And the best in the county. Hands down.” He smiles at the fond memory.

  “Well, after that cinnamon roll, I believe it!”

  He chuckles lightly before continuing.

  “She was a really good mom. Even though she was doing it alone, she never once let me down or let me feel like I was missing out because I didn’t have a dad. She even coached little league one year. That shit was hilarious. But ya’ know what, that was the best season we ever had.”

  I can’t help but laugh along with him. His mother sounds like a beautiful person but all too soon, the familiar sting of abandonment surfaces and I crush it just as fast. My pining after the family I never had is useless, and I am grateful he had such a good mother, even if it was short lived.

  “But the day I lost her, I lost something so much bigger than a parent. I lost ambition. I lost the one person who made me believe I could be anything I wanted to be.”

  My chest aches for the boy Declan used to be. Seeing the pain written on his face, I can’t decide if it was better to have a great parent and lose them or to never have had one at all. The look in his eyes will haunt me. I can’t imagine what that same expression looked like nineteen years ago when the wound of loss was fresh.

  “My world stopped that day. I was so excited to tell my mom about my day that, when I burst through the door, I caught the fucker off guard. I don’t really remember much after that. Just the maleficent appearance of her lifeless body. A very kind officer took care of me in the hours following. One thing I will never forget is how he never left my side, not once. I honestly don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t had him to hold me up when I couldn’t do it myself.”

  His words blow me away and I can do nothing but sit here, dumbfounded.

  “That’s amazing.” I finally speak. “Did you stay in touch?”

  “No, I never caught his name. The whole thing was a blur and by the time things settled, no one remembered.”

  “Wow. I—I don’t know what to say.” And it’s the truth. I want to console him, but I truly have no idea what to say.

  “I do. You can say yes.”

  Huh?

  “Yes, to what?” I ask, clearly having missed something.

  “Yes, to staying in with me. I want to take you on a proper date and since we need to limit our time in the public, we’re going to do it right here. Tonight.” His voice is slightly gritty as if he were struggling to hold back carnal desire. He accentuates his request by tapping his finger on the table top and I involuntarily clench my thighs in a feeble attempt to relieve the delicious pressure.

  “You deserve more than the hand you’ve been dealt. I don’t have much to offer and I can’t take away the pain of your past, but I can change your present.” He leans in, bringing his much larger body closer to mine. The intensity in his eyes both scares and excites me. It takes everything I have to mask the existence of the raging war inside me. Our lips are so close, if I moved just a hair closer…

  “Tonight, you’re not a wanted woman, not the center of some sick fuck’s game, and certainly not alone in the world. Tonight, you’re mine.”

  Breathe.

  Just breathe, Teagan.

  A date.

  Declan wants to take me on a date! An actual date. Nerves dance around my gut and my skin flushes as memories from earlier invade my mind. I’m not even sure if I know how to date anymore. My last date was ten years ago… and look where that got you.

  Damnit!

  Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, I glance at the
dresses laid out before me.

  After the intense moment this morning, Declan left me alone with my thoughts. He’s been working on the cartel case and holed up in the office most of the day. The few times I have seen him, we both chose to stay silent but the intensity in his stare has done nothing to tamper the need building inside me.

  I’m not sure what to expect from the evening, but I was lucky enough to find some beautiful dresses left behind by what I can only assume to be Briggs’ girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend? He didn’t seem all that keen on getting close to a woman. Aiden’s story intrigues me, but I can respect his privacy enough not to pry. It’s the least I can do after everything he’s done for me.

  My train of thought shifts suddenly to Celeste and worry weighs heavily on my chest. Did she make it somewhere safe? Is she injured? Fuck. I’m already off to a bad start at this friendship thing.

  Teagan—Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t check in on you sooner. Are things okay? How are your feet?

  I try to put the phone down and wait patiently for her response, but the longer it takes the more worried I become. Like a Mother Hen, I can feel myself starting to overthink the situation, and visions of Mark hurting Celeste start to manifest unwelcomingly. Before I can work myself into a complete tizzy, the phone sings beside me.