by Lynda Aicher
Deklan was about as opposite from Eric as she could get. Where Eric was cultured sophistication, Deklan was gritty reality. They were both handsome, but Eric was GQ cover model, where Deklan was all bad boy.
Yet she felt safe with this man. He glanced at her, sending her a tight smile before returning his attention to the road as they entered the highway. He let go of her hand then, needing his to help steer on the slickening pavement.
“Where’re we going?” she finally asked. The fact that she should care was just taking hold.
He looked to her again, his eyes scanning her face in a quick assessment before darting back to the traffic. “The club.”
She nodded in acceptance, even though he wasn’t watching her. The thought of going there didn’t scare her. The Den was now a place of comfort, oddly enough. Her time there had become one of healing to the point where she instantly relaxed when she entered the building, the distinctive smells and sounds triggering good feelings instead of bad. She hadn’t expected that when she’d agreed to the contract with Deklan, but it was a pleasant byproduct.
Just one of many, if she was honest. After all, she’d never expected to find this easy comfort so quickly with a man. One who was her contract Dom first, but was now someone she thought of as a friend. Her lover? Not completely, but he was closer to that than Eric had ever been, even if they hadn’t had sex.
Was that it? The fact that Deklan had followed everything she’d asked for, both written and verbal? He’d more than proven his trustworthiness to her. Yet she was still resisting that last connection, even though she really ached to feel him in her. She’d made multiple offers to service him during a Scene and he’d declined every time. She didn’t truly understand why, yet each time her respect for him increased.
There was a part of her that knew if she had sex with him it would be more than a casual event, part of a Scene they both walked away from. And that scared the hell out of her. She didn’t want a relationship with a man who was also her Dom. They were separate things, and her past proved to her that they couldn’t mix. Maybe it worked for others. But she wasn’t ready to fall down that path again.
Deklan was her Dom. She had to remember that.
Chapter Eighteen
He opened the door to Jake’s loft and went in, holding it open for Kendra to follow. Deklan wasn’t surprised when Seth’s door opened across the hall. The man came out of his loft to lean on the doorjamb. The questions were clear on his face.
Deklan stepped back into the hall, keeping the door partially ajar behind him. “Heard from Jake then?” He’d sent Jake a text after parking the truck to check on using his loft. Apparently the condo gossip line had already alerted Cali to the scene outside of Kendra’s place.
“Yeah. Everything okay?”
“Think so.” Deklan stared down the hallway to the large warehouse-style window at the end, showing the rapidly falling snow through the square blocks of glass. “Should we keep the club closed for the night?” The Den was scheduled to open within the next half hour.
Seth followed his gaze to stare out the window. “It’d be safer. Hell of a hit on our income, but last thing we want is people getting stuck here for the next two days. Most of the employees are already here, but I can send them home.”
Deklan focused back on Seth. “Is it supposed to get that bad?”
“The weather reports are predicting the worst spring storm in over fifty years.”
“Great.” He swiped a hand through his hair, the dampness from the snow wetting his fingers. How would Kendra feel about being stuck here if that was true? Fuck. He’d deal with it if it happened. “What’s your call?”
Seth groaned as if he was in real pain and hung his head, his long hair falling forward to brush past his face. “Fuck. I hate this.” He straightened, swiping his hair out of his eyes as he did. “We’re gonna piss people off no matter which way we go. But everything’s shutting down and if the weatherman is even remotely right, we should probably close.” He blew out a breath. “I’ll take care of the club. You take care of Kendra.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I got it.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Deklan glanced over his shoulder to see Kendra pacing along the far wall, her thumbnail being whittled down between her teeth. He stepped back into the loft, preparing to close the door. “Thanks, Seth. Same to you.”
All thoughts of the club dropped from his mind the second the door click closed. Jake’s loft was open and spacious with only a minimal amount of furniture. There was a sitting area with a flat-screen setup to the left. Two large windows like the one in the hallway ran along the far wall, letting in a lot of natural light to make the space feel bright despite its starkness. The kitchen area was to the right along the back, with an eat-in island bar that served as Jake’s table.
Kendra’s shoes squeaked on the hardwood floor as she pivoted and walked toward the TV area in a path she seemed unaware of. Her agitation was clear and understood. His hand fisted, just remembering the hold the other man had had on her. He’d seen red the second he’d turned the corner and started toward her unit.
Coming back to the present, Deklan removed his coat and boots, calculating the best way to approach her. The car ride over had been mostly silent, partly because he hadn’t trusted himself to say anything. The desire to explode in anger was so strong it’d seriously frightened him. At least his time in the service had taught him how to channel his rage. It was that same anger uncontrolled that had landed him in the military to begin with.
He sent a quick text to Rock in security telling him he wouldn’t be down before crossing the room to grab two bottles of water from the fridge, taking them over to Kendra. He stood in her path and waited until she turned, heading toward him, only to pull up short when she realized he was there. Her head snapped up, her eyes big with unfocused worry.
“Water?” He held up the bottle and it took her a second before her gaze dropped to the beverage and still another before her mind seemed to catch up with what he said.
She nodded and took the water from him. “Thank you,” she mumbled before twisting off the cap and taking a long drink. She exhaled slowly as she lowered the bottle, her eyes closing with the movement.
He ran his knuckles over her cheek, wanting to hold her so badly his arms ached. She turned her face into his touch and that was all it took for him to follow through on his inclination. He tossed his unopened water onto the couch and surrounded her in his embrace. Thankfully, she came willingly. Almost melting against his chest as her arms circled his waist.
A gust of wind beat against the window and the sound echoed through the open space. The low purr of the refrigerator could be heard if he strained, but otherwise the room was silent. He took a deep breath, the relief at knowing she was safe flushing through him. The crisp smell of the outdoors mixed with the light scent of lilac from her shampoo helped to calm him further. He waited for her to cry, to hear the sobs he expected after what she’d been through, only none came.
After a while she took a deep breath then pushed away to resume her pacing. “Thank you for that too,” she said almost dispassionately. “You didn’t have to help me.”
The words alone had his temper rising once again. He understood she was being defensive and he reached for his patience before answering. “You’re right that I didn’t have to help you.” That made her pause, her eyes searching him for the catch. “I wanted to. I told you I’d never harm you and I’ll never let someone else either.”
“Of course.” She nodded, as if that was the only reason he’d want to help her. With that she changed her direction, her new path taking her in front of the TV then back toward the window.
“Kendra,” he said after the silence stretched on. He needed to do something to help. But what? “I assume that was your ex. The one who abused you.” She’d yet to tell him the whole story of her past. Maybe now would be a good time. He wouldn’t force h
er, but it was killing him not knowing. He’d had Rock collect the information soon after they signed their contract. It was still unread. So many times over the last weeks he’d sat down to read it, only to leave the electronic folder unopened on his computer.
She stopped at the window, took another drink from the bottle then continued to stare outside. “Yeah. That was Eric.” She spoke to the glass, and he took a step closer to hear her better. “He found me and wants me to come back.”
Red. Flaming, crimson shades of red clouded his mind instantly. There was no way in hell he’d let her go back. Never. Fortunately she wasn’t looking at him to see the rage that must surely be showing. “And?” he managed to prompt with calm.
She looked to him them, her brow furrowed. “I won’t go. I might be slow, but I’m not completely stupid.”
“I never thought that.”
Looking down, she closed her eyes and shook her head, puffing out a small breath of defeat. “I felt it,” she said softly.
“Hey.” He moved closer until he could tilt her chin up. Her eyes were rimmed with pending tears but she blinked rapidly, holding them back. His chest tightened and he wanted nothing more than to take away all of her pain. “Don’t ever think that.”
She searched his face for a long moment before pulling away to pace back to the sitting area. Wrapping one arm around her waist, she took a drink of the water, the shaking bottle showing how unsettled she really was.
“Kendra.”
Her shoulders raised and fell before she turned to him.
“What was his threat about? One week?”
She closed her eyes again, her jaw tightening with her compressed lips. The water sloshed in the half-full bottle, where it trembled in her hand. In a sudden explosion she turned toward the wall and hurled the bottle. “Fuck him,” she cried. The bottle smashed against the plaster, water splashing out of the open top to splatter across the wall before it dropped to the hardwood. “God, I hate him. Fucking hate him.” She spun around, paced two steps before her knees buckled and she dropped to a crouch, breathing deep, her head grasped tight in her hands.
Her anguish was so strong that Deklan was actually lost at what to do. He felt helpless, an emotion he detested above all others. He was a fucking Green Beret; he’d faced enemy guns and shitholes most people never dreamed existed. Yet he was clueless on what to do right here. Right now.
She rocked on her heels, the lean muscles in her calves and thighs standing out under the tight navy running pants. “He’s going to ruin my family.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat.
He dropped to his knee beside her, gathering her huddled form to his chest. She toppled into him without resistance. “You’re safe,” he soothed into her hair. “It’s okay.”
“But it’s not okay,” she insisted, her voice muffled. Two seconds later she exploded out of his arms, nearly nailing him in the chin.
He let her go, even though his instinct was to pull her back and hold her until she calmed. But Kendra couldn’t seem to stay still. She was back at the window, staring at the almost darkness, her fist tapping against her lips, leg bouncing in a matching beat.
“He has a video,” she said to the window, her breath forming a cloud on the glass. “One he took of me. Tied up. Begging...for more.” She sniffed, eyes closed. She wet her lips behind the fist that still rested on the small space between her mouth and nose. “He’s going to add it to my parents’ anniversary montage at their party next weekend if I don’t come back.”
“Fuck,” Deklan breathed before he could stop himself.
Her head whipped around to stare at him, her eyes wide. A puff of defeated laugher came out as she shook her head. “Yeah. Fuck is right.”
He stood. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” she snapped. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Can we get the video? Destroy it?” Deklan was already planning how to do that, details unknown. He knew plenty of men who could take care of it without getting caught.
“No.” She shook her head. “He’s too rich. Too much old money to get to. Plus, he probably has a ton of copies made by know.”
“Money doesn’t worry me. Everyone has a weakness that can be exploited.”
“No!” she insisted, her hand cutting through the air as she glared at him. “This is my problem. One I made and I have to take care of.”
Fuck. He ran a palm over his hair, his own frustration grinding away at his gut. “I can help,” he ground out, fighting to keep his calm.
She stalked away, her hands clenching her hips. “You don’t get it.” She whirled around. “He’s going to humiliate my whole family in front of everyone. Eric works for my father. He’s my brother’s best friend. I lived with the damn man for two years and it all means nothing to him. He’s a heartless, cold bastard. If I don’t go back now, I’ll never be able to.”
He advanced on her, his long strides bringing him close. “You can’t seriously be thinking of going back to that asshole. I won’t let you.”
Her spine snapped straight. “You won’t let me?” She gaped at him, her eyes blazing with fight. “You don’t have a say in what I do, Deklan. Our contract ends at the door to your stinking club. My life will never be controlled by anyone but me ever again.” She thumbed her chest, her face flushed with her passion.
Damn it. He hadn’t meant that as it sounded. Or had he? Fuck. Backing down, he took a step back and raised his hands in retreat. It wasn’t a move he was used to making, but for her he did. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He moved away, taking his turn to stare out the window. Darkness had fallen, but the snow was still highlighted by the safety lights mounted along the building three stories down and the dim flare of the streetlights. “It just...” His jaw clenched as he struggled to hold back the anger. “It kills me to think of anyone harming or threatening you. That you would go back to him to save your family is noble, but there has to be another way. I don’t know if...” He couldn’t finish. She wouldn’t want to hear that he couldn’t let her go.
“I already told you I wasn’t going back to him,” she hurled at his back, the anger still heavy in her voice. He imagined if she still had the water bottle it’d be hitting his head right about then. “I’ll handle it.”
He spun around. “How?”
“I don’t know, but I will.”
“Is it so hard to accept that I want to help you?”
“Yes,” she cried then jerked up short. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as if she wanted to capture the words and slip them back inside. “Oh, God...that sounded so bad.” She fumbled backwards until her hand rested on the back of the couch and she slumped against the support, her eyes dazed. “How did it get this bad? I don’t trust anybody anymore. Not even myself.”
“That’s not true,” he challenged, then he took a risk. “You trust me.”
She didn’t move or respond to his bold statement, but her eyes never left him. The faint glow of light from the kitchen cast her face in shadow, her features appearing soft and vulnerable. Exactly opposite of what she was.
“If there wasn’t trust between us, you’d have never allowed me to do the things we’ve done together. Every Scene is a venture of trust. Every time you let me restrain you, you give me your trust.” He moved closer once again. “I value and cherish what you give to me.” He stopped directly in front of her and held her gaze, needing her to understand the importance of his next words. “I value and cherish you.”
Her lip quivered behind her fingers. “I don’t understand why.”
“Why what? Why you trust me or why I cherish you?”
“Both,” she whispered.
He folded her into his arms, pressing her long length to his body until her head rested on his chest. She was so brave. Strong. He wished she could see that. Get her to believe that. Only he didn’t know what he could say to convince her of any of it.
He was just starting to relax, letting her presence so close to him ease his tight mus
cles, when she pushed against him, forcing him to step away. She swiped at her cheeks and sniffed away the rest of the tears. “I won’t cry,” she said, determined, the strength returning to her voice. “I’m done with that.”
She pushed away from the couch and strode around the sitting area to the kitchen counter. Bracing her hands on the edge, she leaned against it, stretching her calves like she was preparing to go for a run. She stopped, straightened then fidgeted with the zipper on her jacket as she bounced lightly on her toes.
“Damn it,” she cursed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I need to do something. I can’t just sit here.”
“Do you want me to take you home?” He was completely against that idea since they had no clue where the asshole might be. But he felt compelled to offer. He didn’t want her to feel trapped here with him.
“No.” She shook her head, rubbing at her arms. Her head snapped around to stare at him. She contemplated him long and hard before finally speaking. “Do a Scene with me.”
Her voice was firm and controlled and she appeared completely serious. But every warning signal flashed within him that it was a bad idea. “No way. Not now.”
She marched toward him, determined. “Why not? I trust you. You told me that. So let’s go. I need it.”
He stood his ground. “No. You’re not in the right frame of mind for a Scene.”
“Bullshit. I know I want this. I’m asking you for it. Do you want me to beg?”
“Stop it, Kendra. You know that’s not it.”
“Then what? Prove I can trust you, Deklan,” she pushed. “I need the pain right now. I’m going nuts.” Her hands gripped her neck as she paced back to the kitchen island. When he didn’t answer she cursed under her breath then strode to the door and yanked it open before he realized her intent. She was out of the loft and in the hall when he finally reacted.
