Page 18 of The Enforcer's Redemption

"Oh, God," I breathe, feeling relief wash over me but still terrified. I want to fall apart, to cling to him and let myself feel safe, but the sheer terror of what I've just been through numbs me. I lie there listening to more gunfire, what sounds like an explosion as another car crashes, and then calm.

Too calm.

Dead calm.

Declan slides off me, and I feel myself being lifted.

My eyes squeak open. The two men are dead, in puddles of blood on the ground between us and the new car that came to our rescue. I'm in Declan's arms, surrounded by Ronan's men, all armed and angry.

"Cleaners are on the way. Get the package to safety," Ronan barks.

"Aye," Declan grumbles, and I'm confused again. "Package." "Princess." What does it all mean?

Then suddenly, we're in a new car, zooming away from the scene of the accident. I don't know what happened. I don't know why they're so angry with me, after me like this. Why just returning the money wouldn't be enough. But I feel safe. I'm on his lap, in his arms, his lips pressing kisses to my temple.

"You're bleeding," Declan says softly, smoothing a finger over my forehead.

"So are you," I say, remembering the blossom of blood on his stomach.

"Just a cut. I'm okay." His eyes focus earnestly on my face, and he brushes my cheek with his palm, then cups it. "Are you alright?"

His question is ridiculous. Of course I’m not alright. I killed a man. But I nod. My father taught me to hunt and shoot and skin a sheep. The blood doesn't bother me. It's the guilt over what I've done. Over what I'm capable of doing. That I can be like these monsters.

"You… I'm…" I can't form words. The adrenaline is still thrumming through me, my vision still dim. I feel I may pass out any second.

"Shh, I'm here." Declan presses his lips to my forehead, and when he pulls away, there is blood on them. I let my eyes flutter shut and sleep claims me.

When I open them, I feel cold. I'm lying on his bed—not my bed. Not the place he keeps me locked away from the world. His bed, in his room, with his whiskey and gun on the nightstand.His firm, large body is on the mattress beside me. His hand is pressing a damp cloth to my skin in what I can only assume is his attempt to clean me after the ordeal. I look up at him, and he smiles softly.

"There you are." His whisper is soft and gentle, but I know because I've seen what he's capable of. The gentleness inside this man is what pulls me into him like gravity. The harsher reality of his potential is what pushes me away.

"I…" I want to speak, but I still don't trust my voice.

"Just a cut, no big deal. From the glass. Doctor says you're fine. You might have a mild concussion, which would explain why you've been sleeping for eighteen hours." He pressed the cloth to my face again, and I shift, feeling the covers against my bare skin. I'm naked, probably stripped off to make sure there were no more injuries. "And you'll have bruising. We took a hard tumble. But you're alive."

The crash, the gunfight. It's not news to me. I'm not shocked by remembering it because I've done nothing but dream horrible, awful things the entire time I was sleeping.

"You saved me…" I whisper.

"I told you. You need my protection. Now will you let me care for you?" His hand draws my chin up, and I blink slowly as I process it all. I've already given my consent for this wedding, but my plan to run still burns hot in my chest. If those men would come after me like that, how will Declan protect my father? He can't be in two places at once, and it's only a matter of time until Sebastian goes after my family.

"I'll be right back," he says as his phone starts to ring.

I shudder at the lack of warmth as he slides off the bed and brings his phone to his ear. He steps into the hallway, but I can hear him say, "The package is safe… No worries… just a bump. Yes… I gave you my word. The wedding is still on…"

As he walks away, I find myself being drawn into sleep again, wondering what it all means. Why do they call me a package? Or is there something else at play here? I want to think it through but I can't, not when sleep tugs me back to the harrowing depths of terror and darkness.

I have to get out of here…

13

DECLAN

My phone is at two percent, beeping at me as I end the call. I slide it into my pocket and turn back to the room, but from the crack in the doorway I see Isla is sleeping again. Maeve sits in the chair just outside the room where I asked her to. Ronan's partner is a fantastic doctor, but I feel like Isla is going to need more than just bandages this time. The expression in her eyes—the shock and panic—it's still there. This is fucking with her head.

"Thank you, Maeve," I tell her, knowing my older brother is downstairs.

She nods and offers an expression of sympathy. "I'll go in and sit with her, be here if she wakes up." Ronan sent her to my home the instant they heard there was an accident. She was here only moments after we arrived and I laid Isla in bed. Now he waits downstairs for me, and based on that short call with him, I know he's not happy.

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