The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan

by Gemma Jenkins

  “Do you want me to bring it home?”

  Nyxie rubbed her forehead with her third and fourth fingers. “Not unless you want me to throw myself a big pity party,” she said with a lightness she didn’t feel.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Declan?”

  The tone of her voice gave him pause. She sounded fragile.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Thank you for taking care of this for me. I think I’d be a basket-case if I were there. It really scares me to give it up.”

  “I’m going to take care of you and your kids, Nyxie. You don’t have to worry about your rent or your electric bill or feeding your kids.”

  Nyxie’s inherent distrust of anyone being nice to her sent her synapses firing. She firmly believed the adage about if it seems too good to be true. But what could she do? She had two choices: stay by Cody’s side and live as a guest in Declan’s home or work full-time to keep her house—the same house which was far too small for her family and held endless bad memories. It wouldn’t be worth the effort knowing CPS would never give her kids back as long as she lived there.

  “I-I trust you,” she said quietly trying to convince herself by saying the words out loud.

  To her surprise she felt the anxiety slipping away. “I trust you,” she repeated with more conviction.

  “That means the world to me, baby,” he said. “I’ll pick you up for supper. I’ll text you when I have a better idea of what time.”

  “That sounds good. Oh, Declan, you might want to ask Mrs. Jones what belongs to her. I know every time her daughter upped the rent, she’d say I couldn’t find another furnished apartment that cheap. I think it’s just the bed and the chair, but it could be the hot plate and the microwave, too. Oh, and there’s stuff under the bed, a few toys and games and stuff. I didn’t really have anywhere else to put them.”

  “I promise I won’t leave anything.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear.

  “Nyxie, I said you can call me by my name.”

  “I know. It’s just you’re taking care of your not-your-girlfriend so well, I wanted to acknowledge you as my not-my-boyfriend.”

  “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

  “Me, too. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Nyx. I’ll text you.”

  Nyxie caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Cody’s arm bent at the elbow and moved from being straight at his side to resting against his ribs. Nyxie nearly knocked her new HP Envy to the floor in her haste to get up.

  “Cody?” she said. “Cody. Can you hear me?” The respirator forced air into his lungs. “Cody, are you awake? Can you open your eyes?”

  He didn’t open his eyes, but the complete flaccidness his face wore while he was in the coma had changed. Lines formed between his eyes. She stroked his face and a tear rolled from the corner of his eye towards his ear.

  Nyxie grabbed the button on his pain pump and clicked it several times. She had been told the machine would not let a patient overdose themselves no matter how many times the button was pressed.

  His brow relaxed and his hand drop back to the mattress.

  Nyxie had mixed emotions. She took it as a sign that he was waking further, but didn’t want him to be in pain.

  She stuck her head out the curtain to tell his nurse, but the woman was assisting another nurse with a patient who was just wheeled out of recovery.

  She picked up her phone and called Declan.

  “Cody moved!” she said as soon as he answered.

  “That’s terrific, Nyxie. Did he open his eyes?”

  She gave him a full accounting of everything that transpired.

  “The morphine lasts about four hours. He’ll probably rest quietly until it wears off. Has his nurse evaluated his consciousness level?”

  “She’s busy,” Nyxie said. “How is Mrs. Jones?”

  “I’m still with her. She was really incoherent. Is she always like that?”

  Nyxie, still at Cody’s bedside didn’t hear the question. Cody opened his eyes for a few seconds then closed them. “He opened his eyes,” Nyxie squealed. “Oh God, he opened his eyes. Cody? Cody, can you hear me?”

  “Do you want me to let you go?” he asked as a knock came at the door. He motioned the ambulance driver inside.

  “Do you mind? I think I’d like to focus my attention on Cody.”

  35

  Declan stood in the near empty garage Nyxie grew up in. The bed and the chair remained, but everything else filled up half the box van which departed a minute earlier. With so much already in totes, it barely took an hour to pack and empty the room. He systematically looked around making sure they hadn’t missed anything. He lifted the chair cushion, open the medicine cabinet, and found a nearly empty pint of Everclear in the toilet tank before checking between the mattresses.

  Dropping onto his belly, Declan peered under the bed to make sure none of the kids’ toys had been left behind. He peered into the small space where Nyxie and Cody hid the night Jack Carmichael raped and strangled his wife. Instinctively, he knew she shielded Cody. It happened only months before he first noticed her. He could picture exactly what she looked like. Her large doe eyes would’ve been wide with fear. Would she have been curled up in a fetal position rocking herself? Would her mother have made eye contact? Would her father have tried to reach for them? Declan slid his shoulder under the bed as far as it would go and extended his arm to see how much space they hid in. Would the man have laughed at the look of fear in her eyes? Would he have jerked the bed away from the wall to get to them? Fuck. She wasn’t safe there. She wasn’t safe anywhere.

  Declan saw something shoved into the corner between the wall and the leg of the head board. He stood up and easily pulled the bed out of the corner. Walking around to the gap, he stared down at a filthy stuffed animal. It was a blue dog with floppy yellow ears, flattened from years of love. He picked up the limp toy and wondered if Nyxie would want it? The memories had to be powerful. Hell, he felt his blood pressure rising just looking at it and he carried no memories of the toy. What would it do to her?

  He tried to tell himself it was not necessarily hers. It might’ve belonged to one of her siblings or nieces. It didn’t matter who it belonged to, he had no right to make decisions about their belongings. She dealt with seeing their memory-laden items every day. This toy probably held no more memories to her than any other.

  Declan turned off the air conditioner and lights and locked up the little apartment. He took the key into Mrs. Jones’s house, placed it on the counter and locked up her house as well.

  Because Mrs. Jones hadn’t been taking her medicine, her blood pressure had been at stroke levels. He called for an ambulance and had her transported to the hospital. He made a couple of phone calls, one to the doctor whose name was listed on the prescriptions and the other to a doctor who worked in the ER to request her mental status be evaluated. Her daughter never answered his calls, but he left a message telling her he had her mother transported to UMC.

  Declan entered Cody’s room and greeted Nyxie with a big, long, deep kiss that left both of them breathing hard and wanting.

  “That was a mistake,” he whispered, his forehead leaning against hers. “I thought it would suffice until we were alone, but I think I just made it worse.”

  The sound of Joseph clearing his throat separated them.

  “How’s Cody?” he asked genuinely interested.

  “Oh, Declan, he’s doing great. I don’t think I can count all the times he’s opened his eyes. He doesn’t stay awake long, but he looks around and sometimes he reaches for the ventilator tube or he’ll squeeze my hand. We had a really exciting day.”

  “I have a feeling the excitement is not over,” he said giving her a meaningful look.

  Her smile grew. “I have a feeling you’re right.”

  Declan and Nyxie stepped up to his bedside and l
ooked down at him expectantly.

  “He’ll be moved to a regular room as soon as we’re sure he’s stable off the ventilator.”

  She slipped her arm around his waist. “When do you suppose that will be?”

  “Tomorrow,” he said before turning back to Cody. “Would you like that, buddy? Would you like us to get rid of that breathing tube?”

  Cody’s eyes opened and tracked the sound of Declan’s voice.

  “Look,” she said. “Look at his hand.”

  Cody’s hand had loosely formed a thumbs-up.

  Declan was swept away with her enthusiasm. “That is a really good sign. He’s understanding speech. That’s huge. Kids are amazing.”

  “Cody, this is Dr. Stryker. He performed two of your surgeries. He’s been helping me.”

  Declan touched her arm and shook his head. “No stress,” he said to Nyxie before turning his back to Cody who was fighting to keep his eyes open. “I’m going to take Nyxie out for dinner and take her home for a good night’s sleep. You get a good night’s sleep, too. She should be back tomorrow—not too early. Visiting hours don’t start until eleven o’clock.”

  She looked at Declan not quite understanding why he didn’t want Cody to expect her early. Was it because he intended to keep her in bed all morning?

  “Good night, Cody. I love you. Lotus and Reina send their love, too.” She used her fingers to press kisses to his cheek.

  As Nyxie tucked her tablet into its case and grabbed her purse, Declan put the button to the pain pump in Cody’s hand.

  As soon as they left the ICU, Nyxie put her hand on her chest and took a deep cleansing breath. “I feel like I can breathe again—like the giant elephant is getting off my chest. Is he out of danger completely? He can’t relapse, can he?”

  Declan shrugged. “I think we have cause to be reasonably optimistic. He does have pneumonia from being on the ventilator and it’s too soon to say if the seizure was an isolated incident and we still need to be on the lookout for infection. So, is he completely out of danger? No, but I’m happy with his progress.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to curb it a bit. What time can I come back in the morning?”

  “After court.”

  “Court? You told me our court date was in two days,” she said pressing the elevator call button.

  “Did I? I hadn’t slept. It always feels like the day before until I sleep. It’s one of those pitfalls of working overnight.”

  “The elephant is back,” she said with a sigh.

  “It’s just a small motion, Nyxie. I doubt you’re even required to be there, but it looks better if you are—and I’ll be there, too.”

  With a ding, the elevator opened up and they stepped in.

  “Let me see your key.”

  “My key?”

  “I thought you’d like your own car key. When you get your license, you’re not going to want to track me down to borrow my car.”

  They were out of the elevator when he handed the key fob back to her, the key fob with two keys on it.

  She looked at it a moment. “It’s different from yours.”

  “So it is. Go figure.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she stopped in place. “This isn’t the key to your sports car, is it? I can’t drive that.”

  He cast his arm around her shoulders compelling her forward. “No, it’s not the key to the BMW. You’re too inexperienced for such a small powerful car. If you got in a wreck with an SUV, you’d go right under their bumper—not good. Besides you’re just learning. You need to drive the same vehicle you’ll be taking your test in.”

  As they approached the parking lot, Declan slowed his pace and began looking around. “I can’t remember where I parked. Press the door lock button so the horn will honk.”

  It sounded to the left and they began walking in that direction, but the Jeep appeared to be obscured by SUV’s and pickup trucks.

  “Do it again,” he said and a horn sounded next to them when she pressed the button.

  “That’s weird,” she said, but it suddenly occurred to her the reason the key fob looked different was because it wasn’t to his Jeep. She glanced down and saw the temporary paper license plate. “Did you buy yourself a new vehicle? You love your Jeep.”

  “No, I didn’t buy myself a new car. I bought you a new car.”

  She paled visibly. “Declan, no. Take it back.”

  “Sorry, I can’t do that. The title is in your name. Only you can sell the car.”

  “Sell the car? Return it for a refund.”

  “Sorry, Nyx. It doesn’t work that way. Once you drive them off the lot they depreciate. The dealership won’t give you what I paid. Besides, you need a car.”

  Her lips drew into a tight line, making dimples appear on her cheeks. She didn’t want to argue, but she didn’t know how to decline it without a fight. She tried to think as his sub instead of as Nyxie. Her Dom recognized she had a need and had fulfilled it.

  “A twenty-year-old Caprice would’ve been enough.”

  “You need something with good mileage. This is Lexus’s foray into the hybrid market.”

  She cast her eyes to the ground with a sigh and capitulated. “Thank you, sir,” she said smiling so she didn’t seem ungrateful. “I’ll take good care of it.”

  He smiled widely at her. “Good girl. You’re welcome. Come on, you’re driving.”

  Her shoulders dropped again making him laugh. “It’s an automatic,” he said.

  “Thank, God. I would’ve felt bad if I broke the neck of the best doctor I know.”

  Nyxie took a moment to look at the vehicle. Painted an unusual pearly white the vehicle appeared too large to her. He opened the door for her allowing her to examine the leather interior. “It’s so big,” she said when he joined her inside the car. “I hope I can stay in my lane.”

  “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right here next to you to help you if you stray.”

  36

  Her second driving lesson went much better than the first despite the heavier traffic. He had her drive to the drive-thru at a nearby Mexican restaurant.

  “When I was an undergrad, some of my buddies turned me onto this place. It's fast food, but they have the best fajitas in town. Great margaritas, too, if you’re eating in.”

  “Do you drink a lot?” she asked tentatively.

  He shook his head. “No. A glass of wine or beer with dinner is usually all I allow myself. Too many calories. Also, I’m not allowed to drink for twenty-four hours before surgery. It’s the biggest pain about being on a surgical rotation. A lot of doctors won’t even consider surgery as a specialty because of it; that, and because of the long fellowship.”

  He sensed her body relax a bit. “Nyxie, it’s a hard limit for you, I get that. I’d rather be drunk on you than on alcohol.”

  A shy smile crossed her countenance. “So what am I ordering?”

  “The number twenty-nine, chicken, two teas, a chocolate cake and a carrot cake.”

  “Cake, really? Which one is mine?”

  “Either or half of each.” He laughed. “I wonder how many extra miles I’m running tomorrow.”

  “I wouldn’t mind running with you.”

  “No, maybe when you’re at your weight range but not yet. If you want to exercise, I have a couple of yoga DVDs or you could weight train. But I’d prefer you do nothing aerobic but walking and fucking. Which reminds me; I still owe you a punishment for walking to the hospital.”

  Yes, please, Nyxie thought as she pulled up to the speaker and placed their order. Her cheeks turned red and her pupils were clearly dilated when she looked at him.

  “Oh, Nyxie, I can read your thoughts so clearly on your face. It really isn’t much of a punishment if you want it. We may have to think of some other punishment.”

  “How did you punish your other subs?”

  Declan leaned away as he eyed her speculatively. His arms crossed over his chest. “The subs I’ve been with were not necessarily mine to punish.
Not to say I’ve never punished the subs I’ve been with, but many times it’s their Dom who punishes them.”

  She looked at him incredulously. “You’ve been with other men’s subs?”

  His head slowly bobbed up and down. “Yeah, occasionally. Sometimes, when I go into a BDSM online community, a Dom is looking for another Dom to be with his sub.”

  “Why? Why would someone want to invite another man into his relationship?”

  The line moved up and Nyxie pulled up to the window. “Use your debit card, Nyx; I want to make sure it’s working.”

  She paid for the food and the woman handed her the drinks and a huge plastic bag of food with Styrofoam boxes and containers. Declan took the food from her and put it on the floorboard between his long legs.

  As she pulled out of the restaurant, Declan instructed her to turn left out of the parking lot onto a six-lane street. “Take your time and relax. Just wait for your opening,” he said.

  “Am I turned around? Isn’t your house the other way?”

  “We’re not going straight home. There’s someplace I want you to see.”

  It took Nyxie a good minute and a half to get her nerve up to jump into traffic, but once they were out on the street, Declan resumed their conversation. “Some Doms enjoy voyeurism. Their subs usually understand up front that they would be shared. Sometimes a sub might be punished by being shared and her Dom withholding his affections and some Dom’s might do it to prove their sub’s obedience—either prove it to themselves or to others. Most of the subs I’ve been with, have been unattached and perhaps looking for a Dom.”

  “You said you wouldn’t share me. Does that include punishment?”

  The roguish smile he cast at her made her core lurch. “I’m an only child. I never learned to share.”

  “Good. And I’ve never had anything so I find I want to guard what is mine fiercely.”

  Declan pointed ahead. “You need to take the first right after the overpass.”

  Nyxie carefully picked her way across the lanes until she made it to the correct lane. She turned between a shopping center and a gas station into a neighborhood of moderately sized brick homes.