by H. Maloney
I shrug. “I guess. We had a prescheduled appointment. He hasn’t talked to me to cancel it, so I assume it’s still on.”
“Good! I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she says in a firm, resolute tone. “It’s got to be a fluke. You’re a catch, babe. He’ll realize it, you’ll see.”
I nod, unconvinced. Hasn’t happened yet.
CHAPTER 15
MEG
The next day, I walk through the doors of the gym to find it deserted and Declan running like the cops are chasing him on one of the treadmills. He won his fight the other night; I didn’t get to see what damage had been done since he’d slipped out, but I feel like he should be taking it easy.
He hasn’t noticed me yet, with his earbuds in and gaze directed at the opposite wall, and I’m grateful for it. I run my eyes greedily along his form, shiny with sweat. He’s so graceful, each step coordinated with his arms and breath, his muscles contracting and releasing rhythmically beneath his skin. I’ve never been one for art, but if someone put him on a canvas the way he is now, I’d wallpaper my house with it.
I break out of my trance when he slams the Stop button on the machine and jumps off, taking long pulls from his water bottle. He lifts his chin at me in a brusque greeting and walks towards a mat. “You ready?”
Great. Guess he’s still in his funk. I take a deep breath and roll my neck, trying to ease some of the tension that’s built up over the past couple of days. I doubt any issues will be resolved tonight. I follow Declan with my stuff and put it off to the side. “Yeah, absolutely.”
“Good, we can start with some stretches.” He leads me through a series of stretches in complete silence.
I can only take the quiet for so long before I break it. “So, where is everyone? I thought you closed later than this?”
His gaze meets mine only briefly before responding, voice hard. “We do, but it seems people have better things to do on a Saturday night than work out.”
Ouch. My heart squeezes at his tone. Would he rather be somewhere else? I’m so tired of sitting in limbo where Declan is concerned. I can’t see his face to know if that’s a shot at me or a general statement, so I ask. “Is that a comment towards me? I can leave. You’re doing me a favor, and I didn’t mean to put you out. But to be fair, you’re the one who told me to come here tonight. I wasn’t in any great hurry.” Okay, so I’m a little defensive. Shoot me.
He stands up straight to look at me. “No. You’re right.” He shakes his head a little and swipes back his hair. “Finish stretching, I’ll be right back.” I watch his back disappear down the hallway.
That wasn’t really an answer, but I don’t know how to extract more from him. When he comes back after a few minutes, he has a shirt on. I shake out my arms, ready to get lost in some endorphins.
He stops in front of me, his manner business-like and direct. “Ready?” he asks. At my nod, he continues, “All right, so you have a good background in self-defense, and this won’t be too different. Mainly what happens here is that you’ll start out as the attacker and not the attacked, so it’s your job to look for a weakness before instigating anything.”
He runs me through a few scenarios, multiple times and in varying orders, to see if I’ll pick up on the opening he’s given me.
We’ve been at it for over an hour and he’s lost his shirt again. I’m tired, but still determined. I want to get everything out of this that I can.
“Quit telegraphing your punches, Meg. If you’re going to give your intentions away, at least go for a Superman punch. You can’t let your opponent get the best of you. You can’t depend on someone running in to save you. Real life isn’t like the movies. You’re the only one you can count on, so you can’t give away your intentions.” Declan gestures to his head. “That’s the only upper hand you have.”
I nod, breathing hard. I need to approach this without the mental safety net of knowing it’s not real. I need to put myself in that hypothetical, critical situation and try again. When we reset positions, that’s exactly what I do. I start leading with my knee. When I see Declan reacting to it, I quickly pull it back and throw my body into a punch at his unprotected head. Pulling the punch, obviously; I’m not actually trying to hurt the man.
“Good! Excellent, Meg. That’s exactly what I want to see. Try again with something else now.”
He resets his position and waits to see which way I’ll come at him. Invigorated by his words, I take a moment to analyze his stance then lead with an elbow to his face. Only I’m a little too cocky from my last success and end up putting a touch too much power into it. My whole body loses balance and follows my elbow, which Declan has caught. But he isn’t expecting the force, or my body behind it. He falls to the side, with me landing on top of him.
“Ouch,” he wheezes.
I lift my head from the mat to apologize. His brows are pinched and his eyes are unfocused, his mouth gaping slightly. His jarred expression is so funny to me and unexpected that I start laughing—full, uncontained laughter that brings tears to my eyes. I can’t even get out what I find so funny when he does nothing but stare at me with the same jolted look.
I pound my hand on the mat by his head in a silent cry of uncle. “Your…” More laughter, more tears. “Your face… It was just so funny.” My laughter transforms to a yelp as he rolls us to reverse our positions, putting me on the bottom, sandwiched between him and the mat.
“My face is funny? Is that what I heard?” He’s back to teasing me. Cranky Declan has left the building. Finally. If I’d known this was all it would take, I’d have thrown an elbow at his head days ago.
A few lingering giggles bubble to the surface as I answer, “Maaaaybe. But don’t worry, it’s not like you can help it. And who knows, you may yet grow into that nose of yours.” His nose is perfect and straight, but it was all I could think of.
He just looks at me for a minute, not responding. In the silence, I become very aware of the position we’re in. His forearms are propping him up on either side of my head. My hands are holding onto his sides; I must have grasped on when he rolled us. That’s funny, it felt so natural, and I didn’t even realize it. His eyes are boring into mine and I start stroking my hands up and down the warm skin of his sides. I feel his cock beginning to swell against my leg where he’s straddling me.
His eyes drop to my lips and I take it as my signal. I spread my legs to cradle him and move my hands down to his ass to push him harder against me. My giggles are long gone.
He lowers his mouth to mine and licks my lips. As if it were a dam breaking, we both start moving in a rush. I shove his shorts and underwear down his legs while he rips away at mine. Then we’re both fighting to get my tank and bra off. I’m think we made a giant tear in my tank top, but I don’t care; all I know is that I need his skin against mine and failure is not an option. Finally free, I wrap my arms around his neck and press his body against mine, crushing my chest deliciously against his. He rocks his cock against me and starts sucking at the skin of my neck, causing goose bumps to erupt. I drag my fingernails along his back and am rewarded with a groan.
He rolls us once again and repositions us so I’m straddling his seated form. I can see so much more from this position and I fucking love it. He brings me in close to suck my nipple into his mouth and I pull at his hair. He answers with a smack to my ass that leaves me breathless. I moan and he does it again to the other cheek. I can’t take the teasing anymore, grabbing the head of his cock nestled between us and giving it a few strokes.
“Harder, Meg. God, baby, that feels so good.” I lift myself off his lap enough to position him at my entrance. I slowly lower myself onto him, inch by agonizing inch, until he’s all the way in and I’m sitting directly on his pelvis. Declan falls back from his upright position to lay flat on the mat. He must see me wince, because he gives me a few seconds to adjust to his size. It’s been a long while since I’ve been with anyone which doesn’t make it any easier.
“Baby, if your pussy get
s any tighter on me, this isn’t going to last long.”
A surprised laugh erupts and it helps to relax my muscles so I can start moving on him. I lean forward, bracing my hands on his chest as I begin to ride him—slowly at first, because I love his look of enthralled torment that’s directed at me. It makes me feel powerful and sexy so, like any decent woman, I exploit it. Rise all the way to the tip with just the barest contact and then sliding all the way back down. Repeat.
He doesn’t let me get away with it for long. With a growl of frustration, he rolls us again and puts one of my legs over his shoulder. His hands on my hips pull me against him as he thrusts into me repeatedly, positioning his shaft to rub right where I need him most. Declan moves a hand from my hip and caresses my torso, causing shivers of pleasure to roll through my system. His hands and cock are rubbing me so exquisitely that I’m already worked up. With just a few strokes, I’m close.
“Your pussy’s perfect. It’s made for my dick. So tight and hot.” Then the fucker slows down to the rhythm I’d tortured him with earlier. Son of a bitch. I dig my nails into his ass trying to force him to go harder and faster. “Not so nice, is it? Too bad I’m enjoying myself. I wonder how long I can keep you on the edge.”
“Bastard,” I growl, but he merely laughs at my frustration. He soon gives up his sick joke and starts slamming into me harder and faster, just like I need him to. Reading my needs so completely, he adjusts his angle slightly, driving my back to arch off the mat. I let out a cry, convulsions coming over me so quickly they knock the breath from me. Another stroke and he follows me over the edge before collapsing on top of me, nose buried in my neck.
We stay that way for a few moments, catching our breath, and I commit every second to memory. My heart is so full I’m almost afraid the painful thump of my pulse against his is giving me away.
I run my hands lightly down his back and he relaxes into me, spreading his weight on me so I can still breathe under him. I want to stay this way forever. I’ve never felt safer or more wanted. This must be what Heaven is like.
All too soon he rolls to his back, bringing me with him so his chest is my pillow and our limbs are tangled. Mmmm, not a bad trade-off. I could stand spending the next millennia here too. I snuggle in a little closer so there isn’t even a molecule of air between us.
His right arm starts stroking my left, up my forearm and down my hand and over again.
A couple thoughts occur to me. “No one’s going to walk in here, right?”
I feel his head shake above mine. “I can lock and unlock the doors from an app on my phone. I did it earlier when I went in the back.”
Oh, good. Now for the hard one. “So… we didn’t use a condom.”
“No, we didn’t.” He shifts his head to look down at me, intensity in his gaze. “I’m clean though, Meg, I swear. We’re required to get tested before every fight. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I nod, knowing he’s telling me the truth. “I am too. I got a full workup done after my last boyfriend, as well as an IUD.”
We lie in silence until I have to ask the question that’s been weighing on my mind since our first kiss. “Why now, Declan?” I know it’s a tough question, but it’s something I’ve been struggling with.
“Huh?” he asks, vaguely.
“Why now?” I repeat. “We’ve known each other for over a year now. What prompted you to do something about us now?”
He shrugs. “I guess you were a little harder to overlook after you’d been thrown in my face a couple times.” He laughs a little at his own joke, but I’m not sure I like that answer. I don’t think now is the time for passive-aggressiveness though, so I just nod against his chest and let it go.
“So, what made you ditch the last guy? I don’t think I’ve seen you date anyone,” he probes, changing the subject, still stroking my arm.
I sigh. “It’s a pretty long and sordid tale.”
“Those are my favorite.” He leans down and kisses my forehead sweetly.
I pick through the facts and debate how much I want to tell him. Then I think about what I told Allie, about hiding something from someone important. Granted, he’s not my baby daddy, but we’re at least dating, aren’t we? It’s not something I should hide from him from the outset.
I take a deep, steadying breath. “Just remember, you asked for it.” At his nod, I start telling him about Ben. “I started dating this guy about four or five years ago.” Thankfully, those memories are starting to get fuzzy. “He was in a couple of my classes. He was studying pre-med, wanted to be a doctor. He was maybe a year ahead of me. He pursued me heavily from the beginning, and I was flattered. He was clean-cut and handsome, and I was excited that he was drawn in by me. I kept him hanging for a few weeks, wanting to make sure he was serious. One day though, I gave in and went on a date. He came from money when I didn’t, so it was pretty easy to sweep me off my feet, as cliché as it sounds. Nice restaurants, lavish gifts—I was young and stupid and equated money to love.
“We moved in together after a few months and things started changing rapidly. He’d always been controlling, wanting to know where I was and what I was doing and with whom, but I thought it was out of concern. I thought it was sweet.” I spit out the last word bitterly and his grip on me tightens, encouraging me.
“It was just me and my sister back home, and she tried to tell me what was going on when I couldn’t see it for myself. God, she’s smart.”
“You have a sister? I’ve never seen her at the bar, have I?”
“No, she’s still in New Orleans, finishing up her degree. She’s on full scholarship there.” He nods in acceptance and prods, “Keep going.”
I take another breath because this is the hard part. “The motivations behind his control became apparent pretty quickly after that. He was obsessed and he wasn’t stable. He never hit me in the beginning, but he would say things to make sure I knew no one would want me but him. No one would put up with me but him. That I was nothing and no one without him.” I shiver in revulsion at the thought now. He had engrained those ideas into my way of thinking, into the way I saw myself. It was hard to see myself as more when I started on my own again. When the first boy who gives you the time of day tells you, for months on end, that you’re worthless, you start to believe it. There was no one before him, so why would there be someone after him? Why would anyone bother?
I have to close my eyes to continue, not wanting to see the judgment he’s sure to feel towards me for allowing myself to even be in that situation. “Lillian was the one to save me. She was there for me after a particularly brutal episode.” I owed her everything. She helped me physically and emotionally, where years of therapy never could. She told me she loved me and that she was no different than anyone else, so if she could love me, why couldn’t someone else? I’ve always responded best to logic, and she knew that. Lily gave me the foundation to work with.
Don’t get me wrong; I still had to rebuild my self-worth, which I have learned is an unending process. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop hearing judgmental whispers in my mind, but each day and with every decision I make, I get microscopically better at pushing them aside.
“Lily came to my rescue. Helped me to the car, packed only my essentials, and moved me out. But remember the part of the story where I said he wasn’t stable?” I ask, looking up at him. He nods, anger radiating from every pore. Declan stopped stroking my arm at some point in my story and now he’s gripping my forearm firmly.
I continue, “Well, that day, I lost a psychotic boyfriend and gained a psychotic stalker.”
In a deceptively calm manner, he repositions himself to lie on his side, propping his head in a hand to look directly at me, his full lips compressed tightly. He frees his grip from my forearm and starts stroking my side. I desperately appreciate the contact. I need it. I need him. “And clinically, I don’t know that psycho is the right word. What I do know is that I was not safe, and he was not acting in a rational capacity.”
I stare into Declan’s green eyes, overwhelmed with his reaction on my behalf. Telling him was definitely the right thing to do. “This is the part you’ll need to keep to yourself. Wiley is the only other person who knows out here. My name is Margaret Bergeron.”
“I thought it was Megan James?”
“You were supposed to. His obsession was turning violent and drastic. He started leaving things for me to find that I’d rather not repeat.” I shiver again and he pulls me closer to his warmth. “Lily was the one who came up with the idea of running. So I packed my basics in a book bag and took off through the back door of the library, when I knew he’d be waiting out front, and I didn’t stop until I got here. I thought this might be the perfect city to get lost in. It’s geographically large and densely populated,” I say, reasonably. “I ended up looking for work at The Seventh Circle. Drawn to it because it was operated by a motorcycle club, and I knew that would help me out in two ways.” I tick off one finger. “First, if anyone would let me work for them under the table, who better than the outliers of both society and law.” I tick off the second finger. “Second, if he sent anyone to look for me and they were able to track me here, no one in their right mind would poke their nose around a motorcycle club.
“I told Wiley my situation when I first applied for the job. I didn’t think it would be fair to thrust on him and his club the risk that I was without prior warning. After a two-minute stare down that apparently exposed my soul, he gave me the job and agreed to pay me in cash. He even set me up at the apartment I’m at. I couldn’t have made it this long without him.” I laugh a little. For such a badass, the guy is an absolute sweetheart. Not that I’d tell him that to his face. Ever.
I remain silent, waiting anxiously for his reaction.
When he finally does speak, he says, “So that’s why you wanted to learn self-defense and how to fight dirty.”
