Page 48 of Trouble

Dropping my chin to my chest, I fight back a laugh. Why is his aggravated growl so damn sexy?

“Should we have a drink?” A little alcohol would go a long way in settling my nerves.

I’m rounding the bar when Declan says, “Better if you’re sober for this. But I’ll grab a couple bottles of water. Go relax on the couch.”

Butterflies dance in my stomach as he heads to the kitchen, all swagger. The impressive part? He’s not trying. This isn’t an act. He’s the type of man who just exists in this world. Every move he makes is out of necessity. Simple. He doesn’t put a single thought into what he looks like to others.

My every move is choreographed, planned. At least it feels that way. In the beginning, I suppose it was necessary. To attract an audience, to build a fanbase. Then, even in my personal life, each step was measured to ensure I wouldn’t upset Jason. So that I’d be attractive enough for him. A sway of my hips, a flirty gesture. If he knew it was for him, I’d be rewarded, but god forbid he believe I’d done it when he wasn’t around. If he caught wind of any moment that could be construed that way, he’d lose his mind and tell me that all I cared about was the fame. That I’d chase it at the cost of my own purity. I’d sexualize myself to sell music.

It was all bullshit, but he stuck to it, and after a while, my family joined in on the nonsense. First my brother, then my own mother.

Now I have no one. No family.

Though I do have Lake—and now Ford.

And this week, I’ve had Declan. A man I can’t imagine losing.

I’m still lost in thought when I realize he’s standing in front of me. Blinking back to reality, I take in his stoic expression.

Without a word, he hands me the water and nods, silently urging me to take a drink. Once I’ve recapped the bottle, he sets it on the table. Then he settles himself beside it, directly across from me. “I need to tell you something, and it may change your mind.”

Despite his serious nature, I smile. “I highly doubt that.”

Declan frowns. “Earlier, you asked me how I felt safe again. I don’t mind sharing this with you, but you need to know you’re safe.”

His words sober me immediately, and I feel the claw of anxiety taking hold. “Declan.”

He holds up his hand, asking me to just listen. “I know the reason you snuck out of the house to go to the game without talking to me—and the reason you left to get snacks at the concession stand rather than just ordering them from the attendant.”

I swallow, suddenly feeling far more on display than my tiny scraps of clothing leave me. “You do?”

Declan nods. “You felt caged. While we just wanted to protect you, I understand that it felt stifling to have your every move under scrutiny.”

A whoosh of relief hits me. I’ve never felt so understood. I try not to get emotional, though, because that’s not what I want to think abouttonight. The Worst Human Alive doesn’t deserve anymore of my thoughts.

“I want you to know that I want you here, and you are welcome to stay for as long as you want—” His words catch me off guard, and I brace for him to say something I won’t like. “But you don’t have to stay here to be safe. You aren’t being watched. You are free to walk out that door, and you’d be safe. I promise.”

How can anyone promise that? And why do I instinctually believe him? For so long, I’ve trusted no one. At least not completely. And yet I trust him.

“How?”

“He’s under surveillance around the clock. Right now, he’s in the hospital, but eventually he’ll get better. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and tell you that the charges will stick. Things happen.” Declan squeezes his fists. “But he will not take a step out of that hospital without being followed. His every move will be tracked. And they’ll make it obvious. He’ll be uncomfortable. He doesn’t get to walk around free.”

I’m not sure anyone has ever done something so kind, so selfless, and so monumental for me. Money isn’t endless for firefighters—at least I don’t get the impression it is—so I have no doubt this arrangement wasn’t a simple matter for him. To hand over a bunch of cash to a security firm to make someone’s life miserable? Ford could do that for Lake. Hell, I could do that for myself. But this is so much more than throwing money at a problem. This took effort on Declan’s part. And if I had to bet, he had to swallow his pride and ask his brother-in-law for help.

It’s the second time he’s done it for me, and I don’t take it lightly. But I also don’t know how to express how much it means to me without breaking into tears. And I don’t want to break tonight. So with my chin held high, I meet his eye, trying to tell him without words that his gift—one he keeps giving to me, the gift of feeling safe enough to walk out this door—is one I’m incredibly grateful for.

“Thank you.” It’s all I can get out.

Declan merely nods. “Like I said, you don’t have to do this. If you change your mind?—”

“I won’t.”

Jaw clenched, he gives a simple nod. Then he reaches behind himand produces three ropes. One is black, one is red, and one is a deep green.

He hands me the green one. As I really take it in, my stomach does a swoop. I swear it’s the color of my eyes.

“It’s softer than the one in your office,” I say as I run my hand against the silky material. “And god, it smells good.” I lift it to my nose and inhale to get a better hit of the scent.

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