Page 58 of Declan
“Yes.”
I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t rock the boat. I don’t want to burst the bubble we’ve been in today. But I have to know. “Files on Bree and me?”
His calm breaks. His mouth twists into a grimace. “Yes, but not the way you think.” He rushes on before I have time to freak out over his admission. “I have a standard background check on you from when you started. I only ran one on Bree after everything happened. And your files are being updated because I’m monitoring the cops and the D.A.’s office. I am not doing anything to invade your privacy. I swear it.”
I believe him, maybe stupidly, but I do. “Do you have a file on Tyler?” Saying his name still makes my stomach twist. Will that ever go away? Will the guilt lessen? Will it be just a faded memory one day?
“Yeah, Cara. I do.”
I sink down on the end of the bed.
“What’s in the file? I need to know.”
“What, specifically, do you need to know?”
“Had he done it before? The stuff he did to Bree?” Had he systematically torn someone apart before? Taking someone bright and full of life and dulling them, making them smaller?
Declan exhales heavily, head bowed. “Yeah, he did, Cara. I found a few police reports and a restraining order. Nothing ever came of them.”
“Why? Why was he allowed to keep doing this? Why didn’t he get punished?”
“From what I can tell, he came from money. He had great lawyers too. Either he paid the girls off, or the lawyers got the charges tossed.”
“So he could come after my sister. And hurt her. How is that justice? If he had paid for what he did, he never would have been in our lives.”
I force the panic away, breathing deeply and steadily, willing my heart rate to slow.
“Yeah, baby, he should have been taken care of a long time ago. I’m so fucking sorry you were the one that had to handle him. You never should have been in that position. Bree should have been safe, always.”
I’m spinning out, but that word, baby, resonates through me. “She didn’t tell me, Declan. And that guts me.”
“Cara,” he says, pleading. “Can I please hold you?”
Startled, I study him. The tense lines of his shoulders, the tight jaw, those hands, now clenched into fists, arms corded with power. That power caused so much damage to the two men outside.
Those hands also stroked my hair so softly. Those hands feel so right in mine. Maybe I should be worried. Maybe I should be cautious. I did just watch him explode into violence. And yet, explode isn’t really the right word to describe what happened.
“You told me you can take care of yourself. I didn’t realize you would be so...efficient.”
His shoulders slump. “I wasn’t playing Cara. No way would I risk them ever getting near you.”
“You were so calm, though. How can you stay so calm?”
“Practice,” he bites out.
Images of Declan running around town beating up people play through my mind. “You’ve beaten up a lot of men?”
“I’ve been in a lot of tense fucking situations. I’m an excellent poker player when I need to be.” He winces. “When I have to be.”
“Oh,” I murmur, head still spinning.
“Cara, please, baby, can I hold you? That’s all, I swear. You’re over there looking spooked, and I can’t fucking stand it.”
I want to be held. I want him to go back to the geeky guy I thought he was. But everything feels off. I need a minute to just…reset. “I’m tired,” I whisper. “I want a shower, and then maybe...we can go to sleep.”
His throat bobs with his swallow. “Together?”
The squeak in his voice breaks me out of my daze. “Together. It’ll be warmer if we share.”
