Chapter One

 

“What the hell?” Declan Reed exclaimed as he jerked back around the corner. “Did you seriously just try to shoot me?”

“You were in full view, man,” Shawn Dupre replied, his voice full of amusement. “What do you expect? We’re on opposite sides. I’m supposed to try and shoot you.”

“See, that’s just wrong.” Declan leaned to the right as though moving his body would help his character in the video game move quicker.

Shawn chuckled. “Declan…man. You move your character with the controller, not your body.”

“Hey, don’t judge. It helps,” Declan murmured as he dodged another bullet, but was too slow for the grenade. “Son of a bitch.”

Shawn laughed and fell back on the small bed Declan had set up for him in one of the back rooms off the kitchen of The Master’s Den. Initially, Shawn worked in the kitchen after school and still did. It was a safe haven for him to hide from his abusive foster father until he could get through high school and head to college.

But over the last few weeks, it had become more than that. It had become his home. The club chef Sam worked him in the kitchen during Shawn’s free time, while Declan made sure his homework was done. And occasionally took the time to play a video game or two. Like today.

“Don’t you have school to get to?” Declan grumbled and shoved at Shawn’s leg.

Shawn lifted up on his elbows and his lips spread into a full smile. He smiled so much more now than he did in the beginning. “Nah, school’s out today.”

Declan scoffed. “Who says?”

“The school board. It’s a teacher in-service day.”

Declan scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “Fine.”

Shawn chuckled. “I do have an early football practice though. Just because L.S.U. has already offered me a scholarship, doesn’t mean I can slack off.”

“Amen to that,” Declan said as he held up his hand for Shawn to give him a high five. “You’ve done a hell of a job, Shawn. I’m proud of you.”

Declan could see the blush on Shawn’s face despite his dark skin tone. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it hadn’t been for you and Sam. I truly believe my foster father would’ve eventually killed me if you hadn’t give me this place to hide out.”

Declan rubbed Shawn’s head and then gave him a playful shove. “It’s yours as long as you need it.” Declan smiled. “Although you’re not going to need it much longer. L.S.U. man.”

Shawn’s smile faded as he stared at the floor. Although he hadn’t said anything, Declan knew Shawn worried about life after high school. Who would be his family? Where would he spend the holidays?

Declan leaned right and nudged him. “We haven’t discussed it yet, but…you’ll need somewhere to spend the holidays and summers. It sucks spending Christmas in a dorm.”

“How would you know about that?”

Declan snorted. “Trust me. I know about that.” He sighed and waved his hand. “My home is your home. If I’m not here, I’ll be in Washington so when the holiday break begins, you head wherever I am.”

Shawn smiled. “Deal.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re an F.B.I. agent. That’s just wild. And I’m eighteen now, so when do I get to check out the club?”

Declan sent him a firm look and pointed his finger at him. “Club age is twenty-one. The rule has always been, you stay away from the playroom.” He lowered his hand and sighed. “Besides, with this Dom killer on the lose you don’t need to be anywhere near it.”

“Any idea yet who’s doing it?”

Declan shook his head sadly. He wasn’t sure why he’d told Shawn about all that, but…He’d told Sam too in the hopes they could both keep their eyes open. No one else knew. Not even the Doms in the club. What could he tell them anyway? They had absolutely zero leads.

“You’ll figure it out,” Shawn said as he stood and grabbed his backpack. “I have to be on the field in like twenty minutes. Lunch later?”

“Yep,” Declan said with a nod as Shawn turned and headed out the door.

He heard the kitchen door shut just as he spotted Shawn’s football helmet lying in the corner. Declan snorted and moved to grab it. Damn kid would forget his head if it wasn’t attached. He hurried through the kitchen and out the alley door. Shawn would head down Bourbon and catch a bus on Canal to the school’s football field. Declan planned on buying him a car, but he was waiting to give it to him at graduation. The kid deserved it. He’d come through and endured so much.

Maybe that was one of the reasons Declan had taken to him so strongly. Shawn reminded him a lot of himself at that age. Abusive father, mother who drank and didn’t give a shit. It even amazed him sometimes that he’d made it as far as he had, but he’d decided long ago, he would never be like his parents. Ever.

Declan turned the corner onto Bourbon and searched the sidewalk ahead for Shawn. He spotted him more than a block away, jogging toward Canal. Damn, he would never catch him. Declan pulled his phone out of his pocket to send him a text, but something caught his eye.

Two men stood on the corner talking. One passed a small bag to another. Declan scowled. Damn drug dealers. No matter how much they fought to clean up the quarter, the dealers continued to move in. This early in the morning, the streets were pretty much deserted, so it surprised him to see a black car speed past. He saw the window roll down and the end of a gun stick out.

The two men on the corner saw it as well and took off running in Shawn’s direction. Declan’s heart stopped. He dropped the helmet and sprinted down the sidewalk. “Shawn,” he yelled.

One of the men turned just as a bullet fired, knocking him backward. Shawn stopped as well and turned to stare in shock. The second man kept running toward Shawn as bullet after bullet fired from the gun, each loud bang echoing through the streets of the quarter.

Time moved in slow motion as he watched Shawn jerk and his eyes go wide with pain. Blood began to seep through the white of his shirt as he doubled over, covering the wound with his hand.

“No!” Declan yelled as he rushed forward.

The second dealer hit the ground in front of Shawn. Declan’s stomach turned at the look of pain and fear in Shawn’s eyes as he sank to his knees.

Declan dropped to his and pushed Shawn carefully to his back on the sidewalk. Shawn’s hands shook as Declan moved them out of the way. “You’re gonna be okay, Shawn. Just stay with me.”

“It hurts,” Shawn whispered.

“I know it does,” Declan said as he pulled his shirt over his head. Wadding it up, he pressed it to the wound to try and stop the bleeding.

“Who?” Shawn asked, his eyes starting to glaze over.

“Drug dealers,” Declan said in disgust. “Don’t worry about them. Just keep those eyes open and breath.”

“It hurts to breathe.”

“Breathe anyway,” Declan snapped.

He glanced down at the wound as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“I’ve already called them,” a man said, who stood just outside the small bar.

“Thanks,” Declan murmured as he looked back down at Shawn.

The wound was just under his ribs on his right side, right around the gallbladder area. It might have even hit his lung, which would explain the difficulty with breathing. What worried him most was the amount of blood and the close proximity to his kidney.

Had it hit an artery? He heard the sirens in the distance and turned to watch the ambulance turn on Bourbon from Canal. He gave Shawn a shake. “Stay with me, Shawn. Do you hear me?”

Shawn nodded, but kept his eyes toward the morning sky. “If I don’t make it—“

“I don’t want to hear that, Shawn!” Declan yelled. “You’re going to make it.”

 

* * * *

Doctor Jillian Drance closed down the Ipad with her patient’s records and set it on the counter at the nurse’s station. Working at the emergency room as a trauma surgeon certainly kept her busy. So busy she barely had time to eat. With a sigh, she pulled her scrubs up, noticing how lose they’d become. It had been a long day, and she was in sore need of something to eat, but more importantly, a cup of coffee.

Just as she’d thought it, her physician’s assistant, Deanne Shore set a cup on the counter in front of her, along with a candy bar. “I thought you could use that.”

“Oh my god. I love you.” Jillian grabbed the cup and took a sip, burning her tongue. She waved her hand in front of her mouth and chuckled. “Oh, crap.”

Deanne laughed and handed her a tissue. “Drink up while you can we have three gunshot victims coming in. Two pretty much dead, one teenager in critical condition.”

Jillian looked at her best friend and assistant over the rim of her cup. She swallowed, set the cup down, and grabbed the candy bar. “Damn, a kid?”

“Yeah. The other two were drug dealers. The kid just got caught in the crossfire.”

“Drive by?” Jillian asked as she quickly wolfed down the candy and adjusted her stethoscope around her neck as she spotted the lights of the ambulance outside.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll meet them, you go get me an O.R.”

“I’m on it,” Deanna said as she skirted around Jillian and headed down the hall.

Jillian rushed forward, meeting the first gurney as it came through the doors. “What have we got?”

“Eighteen year old boy. Gunshot wound to the upper right abdomen. Blood pressure ninety-seven over fifty-five. Oxygen sats eighty-eight,” the paramedic said as they pushed him into a private room.

“Probably nicked his lung and its filling with blood. Someone get me a portable x-ray. I need to see where that bullet is.”

She put her stethoscope against the young man’s chest and listened. She could hear the gurgling sounds as he breathed in and out. Lifting her head, she looked down at the boy’s ashen complexion. “Can you tell me your name?” she asked.

He lifted eyes so full of fear it tugged at her heart. She grabbed his hand and smiled softly. “I’m Dr. Drance. You’re in good hands here, sweetheart. You’re going to be fine. Can you tell me your name?”

He struggled to say it, failed and then licked up lips.

“His name is Shawn.”

She looked up at the man who’d spoken. He was tall with dark hair and blue eyes…and shirtless. She glanced down at the boy’s wound and pushed the waded up shirt aside. “Yours, I assume?” she asked glancing back at him, but not really seeing him.

“Yes.” A nursed handed him a spare shirt from the stack of scrubs they kept on hand. She herself would sometimes go through several pair a night. “Thank you,” he said as he pulled it down over his head.

“Shawn do you have any family you need us to contact?” she asked as she stepped out of the way of the portable x-ray machine.

Shawn pointed to the man standing just a few feet away. Nicole looked back at him as she waited for the x-ray to be taken. “Anything we need to know?” she asked.

“Medically, he’s fine. On a personal level, he just got a sports scholarship to L.S.U. so he’s got a hell of a future ahead of him.”

Jillian smiled slightly, not missing the slight warning to the man’s voice. She didn’t take it personally. She knew he was worried and family often said things they didn’t mean when they were worried.

“I understand,” she murmured and then turned her attention back to Shawn. “What sport? Football or baseball?”

“Football,” he croaked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good choice. I like football. Not a big fan of baseball.”

The x-ray machine was moved and they took it down the hall to print the image. Jillian moved back to the boy’s side and lifted the shirts off his wound. Blood seeped out and she wiped at it with a cloth.

“It hurts to breathe,” Shawn whined.

“I know it does, hon. I’m gonna take care of that.”

A nurse entered the room and held the x-ray up to the light so Jillian could study it. She spotted the bullet right away. “Okay. There it is. Shawn,” Jillian said as the nurse took the x-ray away and set it aside. “You’re going to take another little ride with these guys to the O.R. They’ll take excellent care of you and get you all ready for surgery. I’ll see you right before you go to sleep and when you wake up you can tell me all about that scholarship. Okay?”

“Okay.” Shawn glanced toward the man who stood silently to the side, a look of worry on his face.

“I’ll be right here when you get back,” he said.

Shawn looked back to the ceiling and closed his eyes. Jillian turned to the man and said, “You can wait in the waiting room. I’ll come talk to you when I’m done. It’s not life threatening, so he’s going to be fine.”

The man looked relieved as he let out a long breath. “Thank you.”

Jillian nodded and turned to head to the operating room. Normally, she would’ve noticed just how handsome that man was, but right now, her sole focus was on Shawn. Besides, a man, regardless of how handsome, wasn’t something she was interested in at the moment. She still just wasn’t ready for that after the loss of her fiancé. She stepped into the elevator and watched the doors slowly close. She’d lost him on a night just like tonight. To a gunshot wound very similar to Shawn’s.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she thought about their lost future. It had been three years. Everyone believed she should’ve moved on. In truth, she had. She missed him, but she’d had her closure and said her good-bye’s. She just wasn’t ready for another love like that. Sex, yes. Love, no.

The doors opened and she stepped out onto the surgical floor. She’d left St. Louis to come to New Orleans and start fresh. She had one rule for the men in her life. Well two. One was nothing past a one-night stand regardless of how good the sex was. She didn’t have time for a relationship, and she didn’t want one. Number two was no cops. Ever. Period. Her fiancé had been a cop and he’d been shot responding to a domestic disturbance call. Been there, done that. They lived too dangerous a life. She couldn’t go through another job related death. Not like that.

Pushing thoughts of her fiancé from her mind, she washed her hands and watched through the window as they prepped Shawn. He had his whole life in front of him and she would do everything she could to make sure he got to live that life.

 

* * * *

Declan paced the waiting room, anxious for any news about Shawn. He’d called to let Sam know, as well as Daniel. Sam was on his way to the hospital and Daniel, who was still in the Caribbean with Nicole, offered financial support for anything Shawn needed.

Both men cared a great deal about the boy, but for Declan it was more. He wasn’t sure why he’d connected to Shawn like he had. Maybe it was because the kid reminded him so much of himself. Broken but driven. He thought of him as a son. His son.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed toward the ceiling. What the hell was taking so damn long?

Sam burst through the waiting room doors and rushed over to Declan’s side. “Any news?”

“Nothing yet.”

Sam handed Declan a cup of hot coffee. “I thought you could use this. Coffee here sucks.”

Declan grinned. “Coffee at any hospital sucks.”

Declan took a sip of the warm brew and let out a sigh. “You make good coffee, Sam.”

Sam sat in one of the chairs and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I make good everything.”

With a snicker, Declan took the chair next to Sam. “No one can say you don’t know your strengths.”

“Did the doctor say anything before he took him back for surgery?”

“She,” Declan replied as he took another sip of coffee.

Sam looked skeptical. “She? Really?”

Declan raised an eyebrow. “You seem a little surprised at that, Sam.”

“Hey, I’m old and set in my ways. I’m not used to women surgeons.”

Declan chuckled softly. Sam was old and crusty, but he was a good man. “She said it wasn’t life threatening, and he would be fine.”

Sam let out a slow breath. “Thank the lord. So we’re just waiting for them to finish?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“What’s she like? This woman surgeon,” Sam asked.

Declan pursed his lips briefly as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his coffee cup braced between his hands. What was she like? He remembered she was petite, maybe five four or so. She had blonde hair pulled back in a braid and a surgical scarf wrapped around her head with…Declan smiled. It had Mickey Mouse all over it. Now that he thought about it, he believed she also had Mickey Mouse on her watch. That was pretty much all he could remember.

“She seemed nice,” Declan replied. “She was good with him. She was quick. Confident. To be honest, I don’t remember a whole lot. Most of my attention was on Shawn.”

“That’s understandable.”

Someone in scrubs walked into the room and both Sam and Declan sat up straighter in anticipation. Declan realized right away it wasn’t her.

“His doctor will have blonde hair and a Mickey Mouse surgical cap…unless she changes it before coming out.”

Sam turned to look at him. “Didn’t notice much, huh?”

“She was bent over, listening to his breathing. The cap was right there in my field of view. Can’t miss all those Mickey’s.”

Sam chuckled as he lifted his cup and took a sip.

Two more hours passed before Shawn’s surgeon came into the room. Declan spotted her first and stood. She scanned the room, quickly finding him and walking over with a smile. Declan took that as a good sign.

As she came close, Sam stood as well. “He’s out of surgery. He did well. He should recover quickly.”

Declan nodded.

“Can we see him?” Sam asked.

She glanced over at an anxious Sam and smiled as she placed her hand on his arm, offering a bit of comfort. “He’ll be in recovery a bit longer, but as soon as he’s moved to a room, I’ll let you in.”

“Thank you,” Sam replied, gratefully. “That boy didn’t deserve this.”

“No boy does,” the doctor replied.

She turned her attention back to Declan. “It will still be a couple of hours yet, so if you two want to get something to eat you have time. I’m sure you haven’t eaten a thing since you arrived. Also, Shawn may want some things from home. He’s going to be here for a couple of days.”

“We’ll take care of that. Thank you, Doc,” Declan said as he held out his hand.

She took it and smiled. “I’m Doctor Jillian Drance. If you need anything or have any questions, don’t hesitate to have me paged. I may be in surgery, though, so give me a bit to respond.”

“Don’t like doc?” Sam asked in his usual crusty manner.

The doctor didn’t seem to be offended. She laughed and shook her head. “Doc is fine. I just wanted you to know my name in case you needed me. There’re lots of other docs here.”

“Yeah, the place is full of ‘em,” Sam replied, making her laugh again.

Declan liked the sound of her laugh. It was soft and cute like a bell and her eyes were the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. So bright and deep. Shaking his head Declan forced his thoughts away from how damn pretty she was and turned his attention back to Shawn where it belonged.

“If he wakes up before we get back, let him know we’re on our way,” Declan said as he put his hand at Sam’s back and pushed him toward the door.

“We’ll let him know,” she replied.

“Damn, you didn’t say she was pretty. Wouldn’t mind having her for a doctor myself. Shawn will probably never want to leave,” Sam said as Declan held the door open for him.

Declan cringed. Glancing back at the doctor he mouthed, “Sorry.”

She just smiled and waved her hand, dismissing the old man and his loud comments. Declan followed Sam out of the room and slapped him on the shoulder. “Sam, man, you really need to watch your mouth.”

“I’m too old to watch my damn mouth.”

 

Jillian shook her head and sighed. Sam was a cute old man. She generally dismissed comments from older men like him. It was usually the younger ones who irritated her. How can someone as pretty as you be a surgeon? Why isn’t someone as pretty as you married already? How did you pay for college? Modeling? You can’t seriously be a surgeon. What are you, like eighteen?

She got it. She looked young. She was short, which didn’t help. She was very pretty, which had actually closed more doors in her face than opened. She’d learned to ignore the comments and let her skill speak for itself. Yes, sometimes she had to use a stool in the operating room, but who cares? What matters is her skill with a scalpel, not her stature.

Getting others to see that though was sometimes a challenge, but it was a challenge she refused to give up. She loved being a surgeon. She loved helping people. That would not change. She’d learned over the years to speak up, to not take any crap off anyone, and she often surprised people with just how authoritative she could be. Her father had always told her to not let her five foot four stature bother her. Show them just how much dynamite was in her tiny frame. She’d taken that advice to heart and it had served her well.

Jillian made her way back to recovery to check on Shawn one more time before heading home to get some much needed sleep. Her physician’s assistant was already there, checking Shawn’s stitches.

“Everything look good?” Jillian asked.

“He’s doing fine,” Deanne replied. “You’re headed home to get some sleep, right?”

“Yeah. You need some too. Wanna ride with me?”

“Sure, just let me get my purse.”

Jillian made a couple of final notes in Shawn’s file before passing it to the recovery nurse. She then headed to the parking lot to meet Deanne. Her friend followed her down here from St. Louis. They’d been best friends since school. Deanne wanted to go to medical school as well, but her parents couldn’t afford it, so she’d become Jillian’s physician’s assistant. And she was damn good at it. Jillian didn’t know what she would do without her sometimes.

Pulling out her keys, Jillian unlocked her Jeep Wrangler and climbed inside. She loved this car and often had the top off when the weather was nice.

Deanne climbed in the passenger side and let out a tired sigh. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yes it has,” Jillian replied as she pulled out of the parking garage and headed to the two-bedroom apartment they had in the French Quarter.

It was small, but right in the middle of all the action, which was what she liked. She didn’t cook, so all the restaurants within walking distance was perfect for her and Deanne.

“I heard some of the nurses talking about the man who came in with Shawn,” Deanne said.

“What about him,” Jillian asked, curious.

“That he was gorgeous.”

Jillian tilted her head in acknowledgement. “I guess.”

Okay, no guessing about it. She’d noticed it, too. The man was…wow. He was just wow. Broad shoulders, dark hair and blue eyes. A combination that always had her panting. The stubble that covered his jaw made him look wild and dangerous. She also noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

“Who was he?” Deanna asked.

“To be honest, I’m not sure.” Jillian turned into the Quarter on Dauphine Street. “I asked Shawn if he had any family we could contact and he pointed to that guy. I don’t think I even got his name.”

“Declan.”

“I see you got it,” Jillian said with amusement.

“The lady who got all Shawn’s medical information and insurance got it, actually. Apparently, Shawn is in the foster system.”

“So Declan is his foster father?” Jillian asked, intrigued.

“Maybe. She didn’t say.”

“Well, it’s none of my business anyway, or yours,” she added giving her friend a pointed look. “We just patch him up.”

“And we did an excellent job of that, if I do say so myself,” Deanne said with a smile as Jillian pulled into the alley beside their apartment building and parked in the area by the pool.

She fell in love with this place the second she saw it. One side of the apartment had a long balcony overlooking Dauphine and other had a long balcony overlooking the pool in the courtyard. The outside of the three-story building was brick with wrought iron railings. Very old New Orleans. Her and Deanne had decorated the balcony with ferns, colorful flowers and loads of Marti Gras beads. She was out there every chance she got.

Inside had been remodeled with contemporary lighting, Italian tile, and granite counters in the kitchen. Even the windows had been replaced, keeping most of the noise outside. She loved this place and would buy it if she could just talk the owner into selling.

“Lets head upstairs and get some sleep,” Jillian said as she put the jeep into park.

They’d been lucky that traffic wasn’t too bad today. Tonight would be another matter. If it was too congested, she’d take the bus to work.

“Sleep sounds like a wonderful idea,” Deanne agreed. “Maybe I can dream about this handsome man who saves kids.”

Jillian laughed at her friend. Deanne hadn’t even seen him first hand and she was already dreaming about him. “Haven’t you found a man or two like that at the club you visit? What is it? The Den or something?”

“The Master’s Den,” Deanna said as she followed Jillian into their apartment. “And I’m going to get you there one day. It’s the perfect place for one-night stands.”

“I don’t know,” Jillian said with unease. “Spankings just aren’t my thing.”

“You don’t know what your thing is until you try it,” Deanne said with a grin as she stepped into her bedroom. “Good night,” she sang as she shut the door. “Sweet dreams.”

Jillian snickered and set her purse on the kitchen island. Deanne was determined to get her into that club. Maybe one day she’d check it out, but right now she needed sleep. As she stepped into her bedroom and began to undress, her thoughts returned to the gorgeous Declan.

Now that was a man she could have a one-night stand with. Or maybe even two.