Page 93 of Mercenary
She nestles into my chest. It feels . . . right. She feels right. I rock us back and forth in the chair until the sun begins its descent toward the horizon. I don’t remember the last time I felt so calm, so at peace.
“Declan, who is Jaxson?”
Shit. A stab to the gut would have been less unexpected. “What the hell did your sister say about him?”
“You know him too? Was he someone you both worked with?”
“Answer my question.”
She frowns at the harshness in my tone, then murmurs softly, “That he was killed, that’s all. Kylie’s kept so many secrets. But you should have seen her face when she mentioned him. Pure agony. She might have kept secrets from me, disappeared from my life without a word because of whatever she’s done, but there was no disguising the pain she’s in. She cared about Jaxson deeply. She’s suffering over his death.” Her voice breaks when she adds, “And she might be suffering right now in the hands of those men.”
Fuck. I shift in the chair, readjusting her on my lap so I can read her face clearly.
“God, you know him, don’t you? Was he her boyfriend? Lover? Kylie in love. How could she have kept this from me?”
“Yeah, she knew him. And now he’s dead. No more fucking lies, Madelyn,” I grind out. “What else did she say?”
“That she’s believed to be a traitor.” She furrows her eyebrows. “My sister is loyal, Declan. Please believe me. She’d never break her word.”
“Your sister is a liar.”
Madelyn stiffens and I clench my jaw. I’d trusted Jaxson, no one else. So did Kylie—on a deeper, much more intimate level. For her to set him up to be slaughtered like that, his face cut up to the point it’d been unrecognizable, pictures of his body with the word rat written across them had been the only evidence Hayden had received—or so he’d said…
“Do you think they’ve taken her out of Oklahoma?”
“No. It’s Franco’s men who have her. She’s close by. Probably still in Shelby.”
“What the hell?” She sits up in my lap. “Close by. And we’ve been doing what? Fucking . . .”
“Yep.”
She wiggles and tries to climb off my lap but I hold her in place. “Timing is everything. They’ll be less cautious if I wait a day before interfering.”
“She might be beaten, raped, or killed by now. They say the first forty-eight hours are critical?”
“Your sister is smart.” I rise and gently set her on her feet. “She excels at manipulation. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already escaped them.” I take her hand and lead her inside. To the bedroom assigned to me.
I’ve got to have her once more before I go. I lift her up, toss her onto the bed and crawl my way over her.
“Promise me you’ll keep your word?”
“I promise,” I mutter. Then, because I’ve disappointed her, because I can’t predict the goddamn future and what might happen to me or Kylie, because I can’t leave knowing that although she may have forgiven me she might no longer trust me, I feel the need to leave her with something.
“Madelyn.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever happens, understand this. This thing between us is as real as it gets for me.”
28
Madelyn
Dreams do come true. Isn’t that the ending to every Hollywood love story? But what happens when your dreams crash head-on into a drunk driver of naked truth? When nightmares not only come true, they walk hand in hand with your daydreams?
Yet as I lay here beside him, his body entwined with mine and the scent of our lust heavy in the air, I’m lost somewhere in the middle, the ambiguous reality wedged between a dream and a nightmare.
Declan seems peaceful in his sleep, harmless. I sigh and snuggle in closer to him. Achingly aware of what happens when you poke the tiger.
