Page 15 of Declan

He parks like he owns the damn place, stepping out of the car with the same smug arrogance that makes my fists itch. His eyes sweep the lot, searching for Lena, completely unaware that he’s the one being hunted.

His phone lights up in his hand, and I know he’s calling her.

Perfect.

I push off the wall and lunge.

The impact is hard and fast, the air rushing from his lungs in a strangled ‘oof’ as I slam him against his car.

“Whoa, what the fuck?—”

I don’t give him time to recover. I grab the front of his shirt and spin, shoving him back against the old brick building. His skullcracks against it, and his eyes go wide when he finally gets a good look at me.

“Yeah,” I growl, tightening my grip. “That’s right, motherfucker.”

“I’m getting your money! I still have time!”

A humorless chuckle escapes me. “Oh, your time was up the second you put your hands on a woman.”

His face goes pale. “I didn’t put my hands on anyone!” he shouts, his voice cracking.

“Now you’re lying.” I press harder, feeling the tremor in his body, the fear rolling off him in waves. “Here’s the deal,Jason, you’re about to fight for your survival, just like all those fighters you bet on and refused to pay. Let’s hope, for your sake, you’re just as tough against a man as you are a woman.”

“Please,” he whimpers, his entire body trembling now. “Give me more time! I have a couple thousand in the car.”

“Too late.”

I yank him off the wall and slam him onto the hood of his Thunderbird. The impact rattles through my arms, but the satisfying crack of his ribs taking the hit makes my blood sing.

“She owed me money! I didn’t do shit to Lena!”

The moment her name leaves his mouth, my control shatters.

My fist connects with his face in a brutal right hook, the sickening crunch of cartilage breaking beneath my knuckles sending a sharp burst of pain up my arm. Blood spurts from his nose, splattering across the glossy black paint of his car.

“Don’t ever say her name.”

I hit him again, harder this time, and he crumples like a ragdoll.

“If her name passes your lips again, I’ll kill you before you even have a fucking chance to fight back. Do you understand me?”

Jason sputters, blood bubbling between his lips. His eyes are glassy with pain and fear, but then, through the haze, he smirks.

“Oh my God,” he croaks, his voice thick with blood. “You’re fucking her.”

That’s it.

A red haze clouds my vision, and before I even process it, I grab him by the collar and slam the back of his head against the car. His body slumps, dazed, but I’m not done. I throw him to the ground and drive my boot into his ribs.

Again.

And again.

His screams rip through the air, but it’s not enough. I crouch down, gripping his shirt and jerking him upright. His face is a mess. Blood streaming from his nose, lips split open, fear swimming in his eyes.

I lean in close, my voice low, dangerous.

“Here’s the only advice I’m gonna give you.” My knuckles brush his jaw, a silent promise of more pain. “I’ve been nice, but if you ever mention her name again, the club will not be so generous.”

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