Page 8 of Declan

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “It was the guy I owe the money to.”

My whole body tenses, and I push back slightly to look at her fully. “He did this to you? He laid hands on you?”

She nods slowly, and guilt floods her eyes. “He came to remind me that the clock was ticking. Said if I didn’t pay by tomorrow, I’d regret it. I told him I was working on it, but he didn’t care.”

I stand abruptly, pacing now with my fists clenched at my sides, rage thrumming in my veins. “What’s his name?”

“Declan, please?—”

“Lena, I swear to God, you don’t tell me, I’ll find out anyway. Just make this easier.”

She hesitates, then finally whispers, “Jason Woods.”

The name hits me like a freight train. I stop mid-step, turn slowly, and stare at her like she just set off a bomb in the room.

“Jason Woods?” I repeat, my voice barely controlled. “That piece of shit put his fucing hands on you?”

Lena nods, swallowing hard. “I didn’t know what to do. I was desperate.”

My eyes blaze with fury, but my mind is already spinning. I tried to be nice and give this guy some extra time and this happens. This feels a lot more personal. If I would’ve grabbed him yesterday this never would’ve happened. It’s over for this asshole. Fucking over.

A plan forms dark and exact.

“You’re going to text him. Right now. Tell him you’ve got the money. Tell him to meet you at that old gas station off Route 9. He’ll come.”

“Declan, what are you going to do?” she asks, her voice laced with fear.

I kneel in front of her, grabbing her hands gently but firmly, as my eyes lock onto hers with blistering intensity. “You let me worry about that. You don’t owe him anymore, not after tonight.”

“But—”

“Lena. He touched you. That makes this personal.” My voice drops lower, darker. “And no one touches what’s mine to protect.”

Her breath catches at that, but she doesn’t fight me. She nods, fingers trembling as she pulls out her phone. “When should I tell him to meet you?”

“In an hour. First, I want you to shower and get something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t give a shit. Text him and get it set up. I’ll put out something for you to change into while you shower. We’ll eat something and you will stay here until I say further.” I glance down at her hand holding the phone. “Text him, Lena.”

This mother fucker is done. No one touches Lena and gets away with it.

“Declan, this is beginning to feel a little too familiar,” she whispers, keeping her eyes on her phone.

“Lena, don’t.”

She lifts her sad eyes to mine and sighs. “Wesley is going to ask questions.”

I take a calming breath and sit down next to her, grabbing her phone from her hand. She has Jason’s text pulled up and I shoot the text, setting this in motion.

I don’t wait for a reply because I know damn well he’ll be there. He needs the money more than Lena knows. But she’s right, Wesley and all the guys are going to ask questions. I was the one who said give him more time and now I’ll be the one dragging his ass in. Fortunately, I know how to keep secrets hidden to keep Lena safe.

“Let’s go. You need to shower and relax,” I say softly, reaching for her hand and gently helping her off the couch. She’s moving slow, her body still tense, like she’s holding herself together by a thread.

“I have leftover pizza you can eat when you’re done.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. Barely there, but it’s something.

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