Page 24 of The Renter
“What did he do?” he asks again, protectively.
“Called me a whore,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Then, Adam punched him.”
Declan’s face hardens, then softens. “Don’t worry about him. I’ll take care of it.”
“That sounds familiar.” I nervously laugh. “What are you going to do, break his legs again?”
A small smirk appears on his face before it goes back to its intense, perfect bone structure, hard to read position. He holdsintense eye contact with me. “You were killing it in Chicago. I’m surprised to see you here.”
Was he keeping tabs on me? I wonder, but I am too overwhelmed to respond.
“What are you doing with Adam Harris?” he boldly asks, his tone disapproving. I can’t tell if he’s intentionally trying to be an asshole right now.
I want to be sassy, but what’s the point? I don’t owe Declan anything. “I don’t know. I just met him.”
He shakes his head, his face stressed, dismayed … and sad? I don’t know what to make of that.
“You don’t approve of me having a casual fucking fling? I didn’t know I needed your permission.”
He scoffs. “Sounds familiar, Dani. You think because Adam’s high-profile, he’s any different from Sorin?”
“Excuse me?” I say, a bit too loud. Then, whispering, “He’d never hurt me—for starters.”
Declan gives me a cold, emotionless look. “Why are you living at home again?” he asks, putting so much intensity onagain.
This fucking guy. “Why are you keeping tabs on me?”
Adam rejoins us on the patio. Truly, the worst timing.
“Small towns,” Declan deflects. “It’s no secret you’re living at home.”
Adam sits beside me, flashing me a puzzled look.
“Bet you didn’t know Sorin and Declan are brothers,” I say immaturely.
“Half,” Declan says, clearly annoyed. “I’m surprised to hear you’re throwing fists so publicly,” he adds with a light laugh, leaning back in his chair. He grabs his water, and I notice his crow tattoo on his wrist is gone—the one that used to signify his affiliation with the Polish mafia.
Maybe he’s not in the mafia anymore?Is that even possible?
“Wasn’t my best moment,” Adam says. “But now that I know more, I’m glad I did it.”
“I know how you feel,” Declan says, exchanging a knowing glance with me.
I’m on the verge of a panic attack. Too many memories are flooding back. I haven’t thought about the scar Sorin gave me in a while, but now I feel a phantom pain on my hip where he carved the letterS.
It looks like Declan and I both invested in lasering away the past—his crow tattoo is gone, and so is my scar. But the memories, unfortunately, are forever.
Adam kisses my temple. His affection is sweet, but it makes me feel awkward in front of Declan. A nervous laugh escapes me.How did I end up in this situation?
Both guys look at me, probably thinking I’m deranged, before Declan says, “I’ll get going. Will I see you at Kent’s birthday party next month?”
“Roaring Twenties,” Adam laughs. “I think the old man’s running out of ideas. We’ll see you there.”
The use of “we” sends my stress through the roof. Adam has no idea that I’ve been to Kent Dubois’ annual birthday party before, that it was the night Declan made a move on me, or that I used to be friends with Kent’s son, Brandon. Or that I wasn’t remotely sober back then.
This is why being home was a bad idea. Too many triggers. Too many reminders of the last summer I spent here.
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