Page 13 of Bound

I shoot Quinn a quick message to let her know I’m on my way, but it goes unanswered. It continues to go unanswered as I leisurely walk across the street toward my Suburban. An accident has traffic backed up for blocks, and it takes significantly longer than usual for me to get home. Glancing at the dash as I park, it’s well after midnight.

When I step through the front door of the apartment, I am caught off-guard by the soft sounds of pained whimpers. Hastily drawing the gun tucked into the waistband of my pants, I inch further into the apartment. I am about to head down the hallway when I realize that the cries are coming from the living room. Peering through the dark, I can’t find the source. The room is empty as I sweep across it with my gun poised and ready to shoot. The soft cries grow louder and more fearful as I approach.

Rounding the couch, I am surprised to find Quinn fast asleep. Her lower lip trembles as she near-inaudibly pleads, “Please. Don’t.”

A single tear rolls down her cheek, and her face scrunches as I tuck my gun back into my waistband. “Oh, Quinn, I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper as I swipe the pad of my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek to collect the rogue tear.

She startles at my touch, and it isn’t until her soft pleas become screams of terror and her arms flail at an invisible assailant that I realize it isn’t me she’s flinching from. “Stop! No!”

Her hands continue to thrash in the air, repeatedly striking my face and chest. I don’t try to stop or restrain her because I deserve every slap that lands on my face and fist pounding into my chest.

I broke my promise…

“Quinn,” I whisper, gently trying to rouse her from her nightmare, but it does nothing. Her palm strikes my face again, jerking my face to the side as the sting radiates across my cheek. “I’m sorry. I promised you that no one would ever hurt you. And all I’ve done is break that promise.”

Time and time again.

Continuing to take the brunt of her nightmarish fight, I softly stroke her sweat-matted hair and whisper, “You’re safe, Quinn. I’m here.” I try to be soft, soas not to scare her further, making my attempts to wake her futile.

My face and chest grow tender as she continues to struggle against the assailant in her nightmare, but I don’t stop speaking softly to her, “Wake up, Quinn. You’re safe. I’m here.”

I’ll protect you.

CHAPTER TWELVE

QUINN

My own screams startle me awake, and I sit bolt upright in a panic. Cold sweat trickles down my forehead, and my heart pounds painfully hard against my ribcage as I try desperately to catch my breath.

“You’re safe, Quinn. I’m here.” Declan’s soft words both startle and comfort me.

Fisting the front of his shirt, I pull myself into him and sob uncontrollably into his chest. His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me tighter to him. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he comforts, his hands tenderly caressing my back. As much as I want to push him away, I let him continue to reassure me.

I need it.

His shirt balled tightly in my fists; I pull back enough to see him. Clinging to him and staring up his chest into those deep-blue eyes, it feels like we’re back in the bedroom of that frat party—back to that fateful night fifteen years ago.

Declan’s face is splattered with the blood of the dead man at our feet. The man he just killed to protect me. Releasing my tighthold on his shirt, I rub my hand over his cheek to wipe it clean. “Thank you,” my voice cracks.

“We need to get out of here.” Declan’s hands slide down my arms until his fingers lace with mine. Without saying another word, he tightens his grip on my hand and drags me behind him. He pulls me through the party to his car, parked half on the curb, before shoving me into the passenger seat. After he pulls away from the sidewalk, he pounds his fists against the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

We drive in silence for a few blocks, which I break when he pulls into the garage nearest his apartment building. “Dec?”

“I can’t take you home like that, Quinn.” He gestures to my shirt, which I had not noticed was torn. Few words are exchanged as he leads me upstairs and to the master bathroom of his apartment. “You can clean up while I find you something to change into.”

I am taken aback when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Trails of mascara stain my cheeks, one of which is red and swollen from the back of a palm it took earlier tonight. I grab the hand towel from beside the sink, wet it, and begin cleaning the makeup from my face.

Knuckles rap on the open door, and I turn to find Declan holding a neatly folded shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “These are going to be way too big for you, but it’s all I have.”

“Thank you.” I take the clothes from him. He turns to leave me to change in private, and I sputter, “D..Dec. I’m sorry.”

Turning on his heel, Declan quickly closes the distance between us. He firmly cups my face in his hands and tilts my face uptoward his. His blue eyes bore through me as he stares down at me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You…you killed him…for me.”

His voice and eyes are pained as he presses his forehead to mine and shares, “I’d do anything to protect you, Quinn. To keep you safe.”

I shake my head as I listen to him. Declan is the first boy I ever had a crush on. I’ve been in love with him for years. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t return the sentiment. “You hate me,” I slowly exhale the words.

---