My husband towers over me, jaw tense, hands clenched, and eyes ready to set fire to anything and anyone in his path.  My whole body tightens up, and I have to fight the urge to hide under the little round table in front of me, as if that would help.

“Kathy, I gotta go,” I say quickly.  “Call ya later.”

I hang up and turn around to face Deklan’s glaring eyes and clenched fists.

“What the ever loving fuck are you doing here?”

“I-I…”  I open and close my mouth a few more times, but my voice isn’t responding to any commands.  The answer to the question is too simple: I’m drinking coffee and talking on the phone.  Saying it out loud is not only pointless, but I fear dangerous.

The barista who made my coffee is staring at us.  So are some of the other customers.  Two women in line lean close to one another, whispering and glancing at me. I’m only vaguely aware of their intruding looks; I’m too focused on the fury in my husband’s eyes.

Without another word, Deklan grabs my arm and pulls me out of the coffee shop.  His car is right outside, double-parked.  He yanks open the passenger side door and tosses me into the seat, slamming the door hard enough to make the car shake.  He starts to yell as soon as he gets in the other side.

“I nearly had a heart attack when I got home and you weren’t there!”

“I just wanted to make a phone call,” I say softly.

“No shit,” he says with a growl.  “How the fuck do you think I found you?”

“You…you traced it?”

“Yes, I fucking traced it!  Who the hell is Kathy Jackson, and why are you talking to a nurse who lives halfway across the country?”

“A friend of mine.”  I lick my lips, trying not to be completely disturbed that he not only found me this quickly but already knew exactly who I was talking to and where she lives.  “We went to school together.”

The drive is too short.  If it had been longer, maybe Deklan would have calmed down, but he’s just as irate as he was when he first found me.  He speeds the few blocks back to the apartment, running stop signs and slamming on the brakes with a squeal when he pulls into the garage.  He gets out, marches around the car, and pulls me bodily from my seat.  I let him drag me down the hall and into the apartment.

I’ve crossed a line.  I didn’t know where the line was, but there is no doubt that I leapt right over it.  As the door crashes closed behind me, I clear my mind and try to prepare for the worst.

What is the worst?

Deklan had said he wouldn’t lay a hand on me in anger, but I’ve heard similar promises from my father.  There’s a point where control is lost, and all bets are off.  My husband is furious, and I have no idea what he’s going to do.  However, I do have a notion of what he’s capable of doing.

I remember the bloodied shirt, and my eyes burn.

Deklan grabs my face in his hands as he pushes me up against the wall near the door.  I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the blow to come, but instead of his fist, his lips crash against mine.

His tongue is in my mouth, probing with fierce determination.  He groans as he presses his body against mine, pinning me against the wall.  Confused, I reach up and wrap my fingers partway around his biceps and hold on as he violates my mouth without mercy.

He pulls away abruptly and glares down at me.  His stare is still intense, but his eyes now hold desperation as well as anger.

“Do you have any idea what kind of shit went through my mind when I found you gone?  I didn’t know if you’d been taken again or if you were hurt somewhere or if”—he takes a breath, sucking the air in through his teeth with a hiss—“or if you had just left me.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”  My voice is tiny, and I feel a tear fall down my cheek.

Deklan closes his eyes and clenches his teeth.  He takes one hand from my face and slams his palm against the wall beside my head, causing me to jump.  His breaths are quick and heavy.

“All I could think was that I’d never…I’d never…”  He clenches his teeth and looks away for a moment.

Deklan’s muscles flex under my hands as he scrapes his fingers over the wall by my head.  Without warning, he grabs the top of my jeans and pulls, releasing the button and zipper in one swift movement.  He yanks them down one of my legs, along with my panties as I hold my breath, afraid to move.  One of my shoes falls off as he drags the leg of my jeans over my foot until my left leg is free.  He doesn’t bother with the other side, just rights himself and opens his own pants, shoving them down his hips before he picks me up off the floor.

My back slams against the wall as he enters me in a single thrust.

I cry out in surprise, but Deklan says nothing.  He just pulls back and starts pumping into me as fast as he possibly can.  He has me immobilized against the wall, and I have to squeeze my arms out from between us to wrap them around his shoulders.  He moves his hands to my thighs, holding them far apart as he drills into me.

The rhythmic thumps against the wall echo in my ears, and I wonder briefly if there is anyone out in the hallway.  I claw at Deklan’s shirt and press my temple to his shoulder to keep my head from hitting the wall.  He releases my legs, and I wrap them around his waist for balance as I pant against his skin.

I’m getting dizzy, my head swimming from the motion and the intensity.  This is not what I was expecting, this dramatic display of want and need.  I angered my husband and fully expected to be punished for what I had done, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this.

If this is Deklan’s idea of punishment, I’m not about to argue.

He’s quick and furious with his pace, driving deep as my lower back takes a hit against the wall with each penetration.  All I can do is hold on, though he doesn’t need my help to keep me pinned exactly where I am.  He grinds against me, and I moan loudly as he pulls back and crashes into me again.

I feel sweat collecting on the back of Deklan’s shirt as his rhythm continues with me thumping against the wall.  He quickens his movement, driving into me with both passion and fury.  I wrap my legs tightly around him, trying to get that last bit of pressure I need to send me over the edge.

Deklan stills suddenly, pressing me against the wall as he growls loudly through his teeth.  I feel the warm flood of his orgasm deep inside of me as he grunts once more, his breath hot on my shoulder.

He keeps me there for a moment, stroking in and out a few more times as his breathing starts to slow. I keep holding on, afraid to let go, but also pressing up against him, still needing my own release.

“Don’t do that again.”  Deklan slowly pulls out of me and lowers me back to my feet.

“I won’t,” I whisper.  My clit is still throbbing, and my head is still reeling.  My back hurts from the pounding he just gave me, but all I can think about is asking him to do it again.  And again.  And again.

He takes a step away, and the exposed parts of my body are instantly cold.  I want to reach out to him and beg him to finish me off, but I don’t dare utter a word.

He turns around and starts doing up his pants as he walks into the kitchen and reaches up to one of the higher shelves.  He pulls down a bottle of whiskey I hadn’t noticed before and pours a small amount into a shot glass.  He downs it a second later.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Deklan mutters.

I’m not entirely sure if the question is rhetorical or not, but I decide to answer anyway.

“I was just going to grab a cup of coffee.” My voice is small and timid.  I feel like I’m in shock as I slowly pull my jeans back on and try to think of the right words.  “I didn’t think about a key until I was already outside.  I couldn’t get back in, so I thought I’d just wait for you.  I didn’t think you would be back until this evening.  I thought I had more time.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“You said the phone was only for emergencies.  I didn’t think locking myself out counted.”

Deklan closes his eyes and leans heavily on the kitchen counter, eyes closed.

“I’ll have a key made for you,” he says, “but you tell me beforehand if you’re going to leave the apartment.  Don’t go anywhere unless I know about it ahead of time.”

“Okay.”

He turns to me, and most of the anger is gone from his eyes.

“I’m not trying to keep you a prisoner,” he says.  “I’m not like that, but…”

I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the floor.  Deklan takes several deep breaths as he stares at the ceiling.

“Come here,” he says softly.

I look at him for a moment, trying to judge his intent.  When he leans back against the counter and holds out his arms, I run to him and bury my face against his chest.  Deklan runs his hand over my hair and gently kisses the top of my head.

“The Foley’s have enemies, Kera.  I have enemies.  Any one of them would jump at the opportunity to use you against me.  I can’t protect you if I don’t know where you are.”

He tightens his arms around me, nearly lifting me from the floor again before he relaxes slightly and strokes my back, his lips pressed to my temple.

“I’m sorry I worried you.”  I reach up and run my fingers through the short hair on the side of his head.  “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”  He stares at me for a moment before turning his head and kissing the side of my hand.  “I’m sorry I didn’t get you off.  I’m going to make up for that later.”

I feel heat rise to my face, and I glance away from him, but he turns my head back to meet his gaze.

“I mean it.  I should always get you off, but I just…”  He inhales deeply and presses his lips together as he stares at the ground.  “I just needed to be in you.  I needed to come in you.”  He shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear it.  “I don’t know.  I have to go now.  Stay here.  I’ll be back around seven.”

“I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

Deklan closes his eyes for a second as he nods, kisses me briefly, and heads out the door.

I turn to watch him go before I slowly sink to the tile floor.  I’m still throbbing between my legs, and my heart is still pounding quickly, but I don’t want to take care of myself.  My mind is reeling too fast to even consider it.