by Shay Savage
The last name he puts down on the form isn’t Kearney. I swallow hard and say nothing when he pulls out a driver’s license with the name Kera Malone on it. The birthday is wrong, and the address is not one I recognize.
Once we’re in an exam room, the nurse tries to get rid of Deklan.
“We’ll need to see the patient on her own,” she tells him.
Deklan stands up straight, towering over the poor woman.
“That’s my wife,” he says with a snarl. “She isn’t going anywhere without me.”
“It’s standard procedure to—”
“Fuck your procedures!” he yells. “She’s my wife!”
“It’s okay!” I step in between them and place a hand on Deklan’s arm. “I want him to stay with me. Please.”
The nurse glares at Deklan, and he glares back. Finally, she relents and walks away.
Deklan calms immediately, taking my hand and helping me sit on the exam table. When the doctor checks me out, he says I’ll be all right—no concussion—and just to watch me for a few hours. As long as I don’t experience vision problems or start to vomit, there is no real concern.
“How did this happen?” he asks.
“I fell,” I tell him. “It was just a stupid mistake. I was trying to reach something up high.”
“Oh, really?” The doctor glances at Deklan. “What were you trying to reach?”
“A coffee cup.”
“Hmm.” He looks me over again. “I think you’ll be fine. You don’t have any signs of a concussion, but I’m sure that smarts. You’re good to go. Just take some ibuprofen for the pain.”
Deklan disagrees, and I think he’s going to insist I get admitted, but he finally takes the doctor at his word after insisting on a script for painkillers and a follow-up appointment for the next day.
“That’s an interesting outfit.” The doctor comments on my apparel with a smile.
“Um…my clothes were all in the wash.” It’s such a ridiculous lie, and the look on the doctor’s face says that he knows it. He glances at Deklan again before handing me a card.
“Well, if you need anything at all, please feel free to call my office.”
I don’t know what else he thinks I might need, but I don’t miss the look he and Deklan exchange. The doctor’s eyes are narrowed, and Deklan is staring him down. I reach for Deklan’s hand, and we head back to the car.
I’m beyond embarrassed, especially when we get home. The smell of burned toast fills the air, and the coffee has gone cold.
“How’s your head?” Deklan asks for the tenth time since we left the ER. He hands me my prescription pills, some fresh toast, and a glass of the orange juice he grabbed from the corner store where we picked up the painkillers.
“It’s still throbbing a little,” I tell him, “but it’s really not that bad. I probably don’t even need the pills. I just feel ridiculous.”
“Take the pills.” He doesn’t leave room for argument, so I comply. My head does hurt but not as much as the embarrassment of Deklan having to take me to the hospital within the first twenty-four hours of our marriage.
Deklan opens up a couple of the kitchen cabinets and glances at the items on the top shelves.
“I guess I need to rearrange some things, shorty.”
I glare at him, and he winks back at me.
“I’m perfectly average,” I say. “You are a monster.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I realize my choice of words might not have been the best. I cringe, but he doesn’t appear to be angry as he directs me to the couch and hands me the remote control for the television.
“I’m going to go find you some actual clothes,” he says. “Nothing fancy, just something to get you by for a day or two until we can do some proper shopping.”
“I could just call my mom and have her bring some.”
“No.” Deklan’s eyes darken. “I don’t bring anyone here. I could go get your things, or you can go back to your folks’ place when you’re up to it.”
I find my purse and pull out my phone. I have a few social media messages, but I don’t want to check them with Deklan there in the room. I send my mom a quick text about needing to pick up some clothes and set the phone aside. Deklan stares at it as he rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. The phone chimes with a new message a few seconds later, and his eyes narrow.
Mom: Foley bought you. Tell him to get you some fucking clothes.
I tense at the tone of the message. My mother didn’t write this—I know that. These are Dad’s words.
I glance at Deklan, and he’s staring at me. I look away and try to think of something to say.
“How about we just go shopping?” Deklan says.
He’s perceptive. I have to give him that.
“That might be best.”
He reaches over and takes the phone from my hand, turns it completely off, and sets it on the table next to the couch.
“I can still run out and get you some things, at least something to get you through the next couple of days until you’re healed up.”
“I could just do some online shopping,” I say. “Then you don’t have to bother.”
“No online shopping.” Deklan shakes his head and then crouches down to look me in the eye. “You are never to do anything that may compromise this address. No online shopping. No pizza delivery. We’re going to have to discuss the security of that phone of yours as well.”
“What’s wrong with my phone?”
“GPS tracking. When it’s on, you can be located. I can’t have that here.”
“Don’t you have a phone?”
“Several. They’re all prepaid burner phones. I’ll get you one as well.”
“Those don’t have GPS?”
“All phones can be tracked if you know what you’re doing,” Deklan says. “Even with mine, I have to be careful about when it’s on and when I use it.”
“You have a computer.”
“I rarely use it, and there’s no internet connection here. If I need it, I use it somewhere else.”
I chew my lip, wondering if Deklan is smart or paranoid. Either way, it’s the end of the discussion. On Deklan’s insistence, I jot down my clothing sizes and he heads out to find me something more suitable to wear.
While he’s gone, I consider the differences between Deklan and my father.
On the surface, my father’s businesses seem perfectly legitimate. The Foley family also has plenty of legitimate businesses as well, but anyone close to them knows there’s a lot more going on, and none of it legal.
Deklan though…Deklan is completely different.
As far as I know, he doesn’t own a lawful company or work at any legitimate job. Maybe on paper somewhere, he’s considered “executive security” or something like that, but no one would believe it. I wonder if he even files taxes.
The medication is making my head swimmy, and I lie back on the couch to really think about whom I married.
He’s a killer.
All my life, I’ve been exposed to the criminal underworld but not at this level. My father was content with threats, which usually got him what he wanted. The Foley empire is completely different, and Deklan’s role is that of enforcer of the empire’s will, and that puts me in a confusing situation.
Deklan doesn’t want anyone to know where he lives. Why? Because someone might come after him. Someone might come here and try to hurt him. Where does that leave me? Am I now a potential target?
I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, and the next thing I hear is Deklan’s voice.
“Wake up. You need to eat.”
“Hmm?” I blink a few times. The lamp on the side table is lit, compensating for the dim light coming through the window. I’ve slept most of the day.
“How are you feeling?” Deklan asks after I’ve eaten the sandwich and soup he’s prepared for me.
“Better.” I lean my head side to side, stretching my neck. “A little sore.”
“I should ha
ve moved you to the bed.”
“It’s all right.”
“I’ll fix it.” Deklan stands and heads down the hallway.
I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Using a sponge I find under the sink, I wipe down the counters and the stove. Deklan returns as I’m finishing up.
“Come on,” he says.
“Where are we going?”
“Bath.” Deklan takes my hand and pulls me down the hallway and into the bathroom.
I can hardly believe what he’s done.
The lights are off, and there are a handful of candles next to the sink, providing just enough light to see the bathtub full of bubbles.
“What is all this?” I normally despise when people ask questions with obvious answers, but I’m in shock. When I look at Deklan, he’s grinning.
“What the hell does it look like?” He pulls his shirt over his head, ditches his jeans, and then quickly removes my clothes before he steps into the tub and sits down, knees bent. He takes my hand again.
“Careful—it’s hot,” he says as he helps me into the water. “Also don’t want you falling again.”
“No, no more of that, thanks.” He’s right—the water is pretty hot. It takes me a second to let my feet adjust. As I start to sit down, the heat hits all my lady-parts, and I yelp.
“Just give it a second,” Deklan says. “Once you’re used to it, it will feel good.”
Eventually, I lower myself into the water, and Deklan holds me in his lap. He pulls my back against his chest and wraps his arms around me. I have to admit, once I adjust to the temperature, the water feels great.
“Just what you needed?” Deklan asks.
“Yes,” I say with a nod. “Thank you.”
“Just relax now.” I tense for a second, then quickly relax against him.
I’m surprised we both fit in the tub together though there isn’t a lot of extra room left. The tub is deep, but Deklan’s strong arm around me keeps my head above the water, and I have no fear of sinking too low.
The heat feels fantastic on my body, alleviating some of the soreness from last night’s activities. I lean my head to one side, melting into Deklan’s body and nearly falling back asleep. I feel the tip of his nose run along my neck and shoulder and hear him inhale as he holds me against him.
“Tell me about your family,” Deklan says suddenly.
“Not much to tell,” I say with a shrug. “It’s just me and my parents. No extended family except a great aunt and a cousin I’ve only met once when we went to my grandfather’s funeral. Aunt Mabel lives in Kansas, or at least she did. Her daughter Marie is a couple years older than I am. I kind of remember playing with her after the service, but that was the only time I ever met them.”
“I know your father.” Deklan runs the washcloth up and down my arms. “I know what he’s like. What about your mom?”
“She does what my father tells her to do.”
“Are you close?”
“We were.”
“Something changed?”
I shift against his chest, and Deklan wraps an arm around my stomach, just under my breasts. He hugs me to him, and I relax again.
“It was okay before Dad’s debts got bad,” I tell him. “The more money he lost, the more time he spent trying to win it back. When he won, everything would be great for a while, but then he would lose again, and…well, things weren’t so good then.”
“He hits your mom a lot, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug again. “How much is a lot?”
“I shouldn’t even have to answer that.” Deklan’s words are mumbled, and I only barely catch them.
“Just when he’s angry or drinking,” I say. “Most of the time, he’s fine. He just has a bit of a temper.”
“Not here.” Deklan sighs and hugs me again. “That won’t happen with me, you understand? I don’t do that shit.”
I shrug again. Inside, I feel myself go numb. How many times did Dad tell Mom that it wouldn’t happen again? Eventually, he just stopped saying it, and she stopped asking for an apology.
“What about you?” I ask as I turn my head to look at his face.
“I never had a family,” Deklan says. “I mean, I had parents and whatever…but not really. Not since I was young.”
“Who raised you?”
“Foster care from age four to twelve. Group homes for a couple of years after that. By the time I was fourteen, I was on my own.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“Hand me the shampoo over there,” Deklan says as he points to a bottle on the far side of the tub, near my feet.
He’s distracting me on purpose, and it’s working. I debate asking him about his parents again, but I don’t want to push. If he doesn’t want to talk about them, asking again isn’t going to get me anywhere.
He washes my hair, and the feeling of his long fingers combing through the strands is enough to set the rest of my body on fire, irrespective of the water’s heat. He tilts my head back, rinses me, and then gets a handful of shower gel. He washes my shoulders, my arms, my breasts, and then moves lower to wash my thighs. He reaches for my knee and holds my leg up out of the water as he runs his sudsy hands over my skin.
He slides his hand up my thigh, stroking between my legs, and I tense.
“Shh…” His breath is hot against my ear. “Relax, baby.”
He strokes me slowly, fingers dancing along my sensitive skin. Each breath is a gasp as I begin to writhe on top of him, but he has his arm still wrapped around my leg, holding me open and leaving me nearly immobile as his fingers enter me.
“Oh! Deklan!” I try to arch my back, but he keeps me in place as he works his fingers in and out. His thumb circles my clit, massaging it until I’m struggling for breath. My body tries to curl in on itself as the tension builds.
My pulse rings in my ears as I sit partway up and grab Deklan’s wrist, squeezing it as a shudder runs through my body, and I cry out. A moment later, I collapse backward against his chest, panting.
I’ve splashed water right onto the bathroom floor, but Deklan doesn’t seem to care. He slowly pulls his fingers from me and goes back to rubbing my legs and arms as I try to regain my senses.
I feel his cock pressing against my ass. The bath and Deklan’s erotic massage have helped the soreness between my legs though it’s definitely still present. Nevertheless, I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t leave him hanging, so I shift my weight and reach for his dick.
Deklan takes my wrist in his hand and pulls it away.
“Not this time. You’re still sore. This one was just for you.”
“Shouldn’t I…give you a hand job or something?”
Deklan’s body shakes with his chuckles.
“You want to know a secret?” he asks.
“Okay.” I have no idea what he might reveal, and I turn my head to hear him better.
“Last night,” he whispers into my ear, “was full of firsts for me, too. First time I’d ever had a woman in my own bed. This morning was the first time I’d ever woken up with a woman before.”
He trails kisses down my neck while I think about this for a minute. I want to believe him. I want to think that there is something special about being his wife, but I’m not so sure. I don’t know how to determine if he is telling the truth, and something doesn’t quite fit.
“And,” he whispers softly into my ear, “last night was the first time I’d ever come inside a woman.”
“You used condoms? I thought you were from a traditional Catholic family.”
“I am.” Deklan raises an eyebrow at me. “Traditional, not living in the dark ages. If a woman wants to be a priest, she can do it as far as I’m concerned. If two dudes want to get married, I really don’t care. And if I have no intention of procreating, I’m not going to be stupid enough to chance it.”
He runs his hands over my skin, and I relax against him. The warmth of the water and the security of his embrace threaten to l
ull me to sleep. When Deklan speaks again, and his voice is so soft, I’m not sure if I really hear the words or if they are only in my imagination.
“So, last night was a first for me, too.” Deklan runs his nose along my neck. “You know what? I rather liked it.” He presses his lips to the edge of my jaw. “I liked it a lot.” I feel his hands run over the top of my thighs and then to my hips. “That feeling…coming inside of my wife. Sweet Jesus…It’s never felt like that before.” He hugs me against his chest and presses his lips to my temple. “So no, I don’t need a hand job. I’m going to take care of you, my wife, and when you’re ready, I’m going to give you a proper fucking, followed by filling you up with my cum as often as humanly possible.”
Chapter 9
I feel like I’ve been sleeping for days.
My head is still a little sore but much better than it was yesterday. I roll to my back, but Deklan isn’t on his side of the bed. The sheets aren’t cold yet, so he hasn’t been up long. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn and lean my body over enough to see the bathroom door, but Deklan isn’t in there.
The smell of coffee drags me from bed and toward the kitchen. I can see Deklan as he leans one hand on the kitchen island and holds one of his disposable phones in the other. He’s speaking so softly, I can’t make out what he’s saying, so I hesitantly move closer. Suddenly, Deklan raises his voice loud enough for me to hear the words.
“I don’t give a shit, you motherfucking maggot! You’ve got an hour—one hour—to get it all, or you and I will be having more than just a little chat. After that, the only conversation we will be having is my fist finding its way into your brain through that big mouth of yours!”
I place my hand over my mouth and take a step backward into the hallway, closer to the bedroom door.
“Don’t even think about running. I always find runners. When I do, the only thing left to recover is pieces.”
Deklan flips the phone closed, opens a kitchen drawer, and tosses it inside. He slams the drawer shut and leans against the counter for a moment, breathing deeply enough that I can see his shoulders rise and fall. He stands up straight, and I run back to the bed. I climb in quickly as I hear his footsteps in the hallway, pull the sheet up to my neck, and close my eyes.
