CHAPTER SIX
KARA
I stared up at the ceiling that night, feeling lost and utterly alone. I was no longer tied down or confined, but I was still in a prison just the same. Whether Declan believed it or not, I was still trapped. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
There was the hum of the television in the other room. Not that the cabin had cable or anything fancy like that. Judging by the sound, I figured it was probably PBS or something. Background noise, I assumed. Every once in a while, there'd be footsteps as he walked through the house. Back and forth. Pacing. Like me, Declan was struggling to sleep, but likely for very different reasons.
Finally, I'd had enough. I climbed out of the bed and threw my pants back on. The floor creaked beneath my feet as I stepped to the door. I held my breath for some reason as I turned the knob and peered out. I saw the front room was lit with the eerie blue glow of an old school television.
Padding softly, I walked down the hallway and found Declan sitting on the couch, shirtless. He stared at the TV blankly, seeing, but not really seeing it. The program he had on showed a herd of elephants walking through the savannah in Africa.
He didn't notice me standing there watching him. I stood there for a little while, watching him as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen, almost robotically bringing the bottle of beer in his hand to his lips, and taking a sip. He just did that over, and over, and over... it was almost like watching an animatronic figure at Disneyland or something. Of course, this would have to be the shittiest Disneyland in the world.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of me from the corner of his eye, and he turned his head, the animatronic spell broken.
“Not thinking about escaping, are ya?” he asked me. “Because if so, I should probably tell you now, that I don't sleep much.”
“No, I'm not thinking about escaping. I just can't sleep either. I don't do so well in strange places,” I said. I pointed at the beer in his hand. “Think I can have one?”
“It's old and shitty, but help yourself,” he said. “There's some in the fridge.”
I walked into the kitchen, and that's when I noticed that the place had been set up with some food and drinks already. Almost like someone, at some point, had stayed there or planned on staying there. Opening the fridge, I found the shitty beer along with some condiments. Typical bachelor pad. Who was the bachelor though?
I grabbed a beer and went back into the living room. Declan was stretched out on the loveseat, leaving the other couch for me. Popping open the bottle, I flopped down on the couch and took a sip, and grimaced.
“You're right. It is shitty,” I said.
“Yep. But there's not much else to choose from,” he said.
He took another sip, still staring at the television blankly. For the first time, I saw him relaxed. I also saw him shirtless. He was in such good shape, it made my breath catch in my throat as my eyes traveled up and down his body. He was built like a God. With a muscular chest, and the tiniest bit of hair running down to his stomach, it was hard not to stare. The tattoos were like works of art on his skin, and I tried to take them all in, as if deciphering a puzzle. There were plenty of scars too – some of them deeper than others.
As my gaze moved upward, our eyes met – he'd caught me staring at him.
My cheeks flushed red, and I turned back to the TV and cleared my throat. I pointed at the screen with the bottle and pretended to be interested.
“Elephants, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah. We only get one channel,” he said.
“Well, I like elephants, so it's all good.”
Declan didn't respond. He just went back to watching television – well, not watching, more like just staring at it. Yes, definitely just staring at it. He wasn't watching it or even listening, his mind was obviously lost in another world, somewhere else entirely.
As was mine.
I took a long swallow of the bitter ass beer before putting the bottle down on the coffee table. I was no longer looking at the television – I couldn't stop staring at him, wondering what was going through his head.
“What?” he asked, as he turned the full weight of his gaze completely on me. “You keep staring at me like you want to say something. So, just spit it out already.”
“I – well, I was just curious. I don't know what you're thinking,” I said. “You tell me to trust you, but I don't know the first thing about you. How can I trust somebody I know nothing about?”
He lifted the bottle of beer, taking a long swallow, and finished it off. He set it down on the table with a loud clang and sighed. Declan ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room, looking as if he was trying to keep himself from saying something. Finally, he turned back to me, his jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed.
“Listen, we're not going to be best friends, Kara,” he said. “We're both stuck in a shitty situation, and I'm just trying to make the best of it. There's really not much more to it than that.”
I shrugged. “I just figured since we're stuck together in this shitty situation, we might as well make it pleasant. Or at least, as pleasant as it can be. Excuse me for thinking we didn't have to be enemies.”
He sat back on the couch and let out a long breath. “Fine,” he says. “You're right. So, what do you wanna know about me?”
“Anything,” I said, not really prepared with a question. “Tell me about yourself.”
I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and stared at him some more. He was looking back at me, his brow furrowed, but he didn't look angry. He looked like a man measuring his words. “Well,” he said scratching his beard, “There's not much to say. I'm an underground fighter with nothing to show for my twenty-seven years on this planet. I don't have much, I've got little money, but I get by. And up until now, I've been fine with that.”
“Up until you had your son?” I asked.
He sighed again, this time leaning his head against the back of the loveseat, a bemused smirk on his face. He shook his head.
“Jesus Christ, am I in therapy now or something?” When I didn't answer, he sat upright again and said, “Yes, my son made me realize what a fuckup I've been my whole life. And I keep fucking up. Obviously, since now I'm apparently kidnapping people and holding them hostage for ransom. Not how I expected to spend my life.”
“I get that,” I said softly. “That makes sense. More than you know.”
“Get what?” he sneered. “What could you possibly get?”
“Spending your life, doing everything for other people. Living it for someone else other than yourself. Just trying to get by, day-by-day,” I said.
“I didn't say any of that shit,” he said.
“You didn't have to,” I said.
He sat back again, but no longer tried to argue the point with me. In fact, his face softened as he stared down at his hands. It seemed like my words hit a little closer to home than he expected them to. I could see that they'd gotten under his skin.
“I really don't intend to hurt you, Kara,” he said. “And I won't let my brothers do it either. If there's one thing you can believe in all this crazy shit, it's that.”
“For some crazy reason, I believe you,” I said, realizing I actually meant the words as I spoke them.
I rested my chin against my knees and stared at him – then realized I probably looked like a child in that moment. Honestly though, in that moment, I felt like a child. I felt like a child who was lost, scared, confused, just wanted someone to take care of me for once. I wanted somebody to put their arms around me and tell me it would all be okay, that nothing bad was going to happen.
“Your dad really a bad guy?” he asked softly. “Like you've said he was?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. Sometimes he does shitty things – like up and leave me to deal with his debts and the people coming to collect them,” I said wryly. “Other times, well, he reminds me of the dad he used to be. Those times have gotten fewer and father between ever since my mom died. He changed and I've been trying to tell myself for so long that he'll bounce back. That he'll be a good man again. But, I realize now I've just been lying to myself. This just proves that man isn't coming back to me. My dad – my real dad – is dead to me. He's never coming back.”
We were both silent for a long time before Declan said, “Weird as it may sound, my dad's death was one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
I cocked my head to the side and raised my eyebrows. I didn't want to push any further than that, but I had to admit, I was curious. It was such an odd thing to say and it begged the question. Thankfully, I didn't need to pry though, because Declan continued unprompted.
“My dad ruined our lives,” he said. “Being back here, I realize it more than ever. Being in this place – this house – really highlights that fact to me in flashing fucking neon letters. Had he died instead of my mom when we were younger, I have no doubts our lives would be vastly different than they are today. For the better.”
“Mine too,” I said.
Declan looked at me, truly looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time. The intensity burning in his eyes sent a shiver crawling along my flesh, though surprisingly, it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.
“How'd your mom die?” he asked softly.
“Car accident,” I said. “Yours?”
“Cancer,” he said.
“I'm so sorry,” I said.
“Yeah, it was a long time ago,” he said, running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat, doing his best to put the tough-guy facade back up. “Want another beer?”
“No thanks,” I said, holding up my still mostly full bottle. “You were right. It's pretty shitty. Really shitty in fact.”
“You can say that again,” he said, a grin on his face. “Killian said someone would be dropping off some supplies for us tomorrow. Hopefully that includes some Guiness. Or, at the very least, something that doesn't taste like piss.”
Declan stood up and walked into the kitchen. As soon as he was gone, I looked toward the door, and the thought of escape flashed through my mind It would be so easy, I could just open the door and leave. Sure, he'd probably catch me eventually – but maybe not. I've always been a fast, nimble runner. There was always the possibility I could outrun him. All I needed to do was give myself a chance.
I looked at the coffee table, quickly searching for the car keys. They were nowhere to be found. Probably in his pants pocket. I hugged my knees tighter when I realized I probably wouldn't really leave. Sure, common sense and my little lizard brain told me to make a run for it the first chance I got. It told me I was being held prisoner and I needed to escape.
But, I had nothing to run to. I had nowhere to go. No money to my name. If I wanted to get out of Chicago, I couldn't. Not unless I slept on the side of the road and hitchhiked – and God knew where that would lead me or what kind of danger that would put me in. That little part of my brain said I could do it though, I could escape, get out of Chicago, and start over somewhere. Build a new life for myself – a life spent living for me for a change. God knew what that would look like though.
With a sigh, I took a drink from the bottle and tried not to gag on the rapidly warming beer – the lack of cold somehow making it even shittier.
Declan was standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, a new bottle of beer in hand.
“What?” I said.
“I half expected you to make a run for it,” he said.
“I thought about it,” I admitted. “But truth be told, I have nowhere to go. Wouldn't know what to do if I got away from you.”
“No distant relatives you can run to? Nothing?”
“Not really,” I shrugged, uncurling myself from my body and placing my feet on the floor. “My dad was all I had, and I was all he had. Now he's gone, and I've got no one.”
The moonlight came through the window and outlined Declan's body perfectly. My eyes moved along his toned, sculped form, sliding all the way down that perfect chest to his jeans. If the situation was any different, if he was just some guy who'd walked into my bar, I would have totally had the hots for him.
He was utter perfection, in every sense of the word. Tall, built like a house, shaggy, yet somehow stylishly unkempt hair, a beard, and those piercing blue eyes. Not to mention the tats that adorned his flesh and that toned, strong, ripped body. Made a girl wonder what was beneath those jeans – at least for a second, before reality hit me again. Reality could be such a bitch.
Declan walked into the room and flopped back on the loveseat. “Me neither.”
“You've got your son,” I said.
He shrugged. “Maybe it's better if Killian raises him,” he said. “I'm not exactly father material, in case you hadn't noticed.”
“Really? You honestly think your mob boss brother would do a better job raising your son than you would, Declan?” I asked. “If there's one thing I know thanks to this screwed up situation, it's that you have a strong moral compass. Your brother doesn't. Your son would have a better shot of being a good man if he were raised by you.”
Even in the darkness, I could tell Declan cringed at the very thought of raising a child. But, what I said was true. Yeah, he might be holding me captive, but it's not like it was his choice. Not to mention the fact that I believed him when he said he was protecting me and would never do anything to hurt me.
“You want your son to turn out like him?” I asked. “Like Rory?”
“No, of course not,” he spat. “It's just – what kind of a life can I offer the kid? Not like I'm doing much better than they are. I spend my nights in the ring pummeling people for money. That's not exactly the most stable or financially responsible way to live. At least with them, Jack would have a family. I know Killian's wife would do a good job raising him. She's a good woman.”
He sighed and ran a hand over his face, his hand making a dry, scratchy sound against his beard. His eyes were full of emotion and yet, looked entirely haunted. He was clearly worried about his son’s future. It was as if, for the first time, the full weight of his life choices was bearing down on him and he was worried about the fallout it would have on his child.
“But, you're right,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What kind of person would I be if I let him turn out like my brothers?”
“Exactly,” I said. “I guarantee that no matter what, you'll raise that kid ten times better than Killian ever could. He would learn right from wrong with you.”
“You don't even know me.”
“I already know you're a million times less deranged than your brother,” I said, a wry laugh bubbling up within me. “I mean, for a kidnapper, you're not half bad.”
I chuckled again, and then actually laughed as I thought about the absurdity of my statement. Declan joined in with a small chuckle of his own. The smile on his face seemed to light up the room. It transformed his face, making him look younger and even more handsome – something I didn't think possible. He took another swig of his beer before putting it on the table and leaning back, finally seeming to relax a bit. The atmosphere in the room around us lightened, some of the grimness and tension dissipating.
“The only reason I agreed to do this was because I knew if I didn't, he'd put Rory on the job, and there is no way in hell I would trust that guy alone with a woman. He might be my brother, but he's not a good man,” he said, sounding genuinely sad as the words passed his lips. “If there's one thing our mother taught us, it was to never disrespect a woman. She taught us that you don't hurt them, no matter what. I thought Killian still believed that, seeing him with his wife and daughter, but I dunno anymore. Rory, on the other hand? Nah, he's so far gone, there's no saving him. He seems to enjoy hurting people. Like he gets off on it or something.”
“I'm sorry,” was all I could think to say, while also counting my blessings that I had ended up with Declan instead of his brother.
Not having any siblings of my own, I had no idea what it must be like to see that they'd grown into monsters. I had to imagine it felt terrible, like some piece of your soul was withering and dying.
He shrugged. “Not much I can do about it now. I can't save them,” he said, turning his eyes toward me. “But I can save you, and I can save my son. And that's what I'm going to do.”
I didn't know why, but I trusted him. The earnestness I saw in his eyes and heard in his voice made me believe him. Physically, he looked intimidating and dangerous’ like the sort of guy you'd see walking down the street toward you and you’d cross to the other side. But, the more he spoke, the more I found that I actually liked the guy. The more I started to think he actually was a good man.
I wanted to believe he'd find a way out of this for me – one that didn't end up with me buried in a shallow grave somewhere behind this house. Maybe it was crazy – hell, it probably was – but, if anyone could do it, I thought it would be Declan. “You probably should get some sleep,” he said. “They'll be here pretty early.”
“Who will?” I asked, a sudden chill running down my spine.
“Killian and the gang,” he said. “They'll drop off supplies, probably reach out to your dad's friends, send them some pics of you looking all pitiful and shit to make it known they're serious. Just make it easy on yourself and play along.”
“For someone who doesn't do this sort of thing, you sure know a lot about how they operate.”
He grimaced. “I grew up around it,” he admitted. “Until my dad died, I had no choice but to help out. I hated every fucking second of it too. The things they did... ”
His voice trailed off and that dark, haunted look crossed his face again. It was obviously a sore spot with him. But then, given how traumatic it must have been, I supposed it probably would be.
“Oh,” was all I could think to say.
The room was silent again and that tinge of tension returned. I picked up the beer bottle and decided maybe this was my cue to leave. I stood up and walked past Declan, my legs brushing his knee. I don't know why, but I stopped. I stood there, staring down at him on the loveseat.
He gazed up at me, and there was a look I knew all too well from all the time I spent working at the bar. He was trying not to make it obvious, but he was checking me out. His eyes moved down to my cleavage, then back up to meet my eyes.
“Everything okay?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I struggled to say. “Figured I'd take your advice and go to bed.”
“Good idea,” he said.
I didn't move though. I felt rooted to the floor in front of him. His blue eyes bore through me, and I was suddenly – and surprisingly – filled with desire. The fires of lust ignited inside of me and try as I might to tamp them down, I couldn't. The way he looked at me caused a warmth to move through my body, making me tremble. My panties were getting moist just from looking at him, and I couldn't bring myself to move.
This was wrong. So wrong. I bit my lip, knowing I shouldn't be having those kinds thoughts about him. He was holding me hostage – how could I be feeling desire for a man who was holding me hostage? What was I thinking?
Despite his part in this entire shit show, it didn't dim my desire for him at all.
“Thought you were going to bed?” he said.
He sat back deeper onto the couch and spread his legs a bit. His knee brushed past me, and I balanced myself by placing a hand on his leg. Neither one of seemed to react badly to that. I had to admit that under difference circumstances, I'd have hooked up with him in a heartbeat. I was craving some sort of freedom just then. A chance to do something fun and crazy, to do something for me. Something totally outside of my normal character. I found that I needed to be in control of one thing in this whole mess.
“I uh, don’t think I want to be in there alone,” I heard myself say, a fire burning in my gut.Declan’s eyes went dark and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “Are you saying you’d like me to join you?”
My cheeks flushed and burned, but I could see his eyes, and could see he wanted it just as much as I did. With my hand still on his leg, I placed the other down beside him, leaning into him.
“And what if I am?” I asked, my lips mere inches from his.
I could smell the shitty beer on his breath, but his musky scent overpowered it, drawing me in closer. My head was swimming, my heart was pounding, and I couldn't believe what I was doing.
“Do you think that's wise, Kara? I mean, I am your kidnapper, after all,” a dry laugh passed through his lips. “Are you rejecting me, Declan?” I asked.
Declan raised his hand and traced his fingers along the side of my neck. His fingers were rough and callused, but his touch was impossibly light. The feeling of his skin on mine sent shivers running through my body, stoking the fires that burned bright between my thighs even higher.
“I just want to be sure you understand what you're getting into, ” he said.
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” I said. “If we're going to be trapped together, might as well make the best of it, right?”
With that, Declan's lips closed in on mine. His beard was scratchy against my face, tickling my skin as his mouth opened and he pushed his tongue past my lips. Declan's kiss was electric. It made me feel like bombs were exploding inside of me, stealing my breath as his tongue danced with mine.
When he pulled away, I gasped for air and felt my eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Declan grabbed hold of my ass and he pulled me into his lap. Straddling him, I felt his thick cock through his jeans and my pants, pressing into me, begging for release. Declan kissed down the length of my neck, sucking and nibbling, his hands kneading at my breasts. I reached down and rubbed the spot between his legs, feeling him with my own hands, low moans escaping me as I felt his length and girth. He growled, grinding upward into me and nipped my flesh with his teeth.
“Fuck, Kara,” he said. “You sure you really want this?”
“Yes,” was all I could say.
Feeling him growing harder in my hand, I truthfully wasn't sure I could handle him. He felt so much bigger than anyone I’d ever been with and larger than every dildo I'd ever used. Fear tinged with excitement gnawed at me as I worked at the zipper of his pants. I wanted to see it for myself. I wanted to hold it in my hand and feel his skin.
Declan lifted me up off him, and I was able to slide his pants down just a bit. Just enough to slip a hand down into his jeans and boxers, gripping him in my hand as he sat me down again. Declan's eyes rolled into the back of his head as I stroked him. My hand couldn't fit around the entire width of him, still, I did my best, watching as his face twisted with a look of absolute bliss as I stroked him, moving my hand up and down his shaft.
His lips smashed into mine again, his kiss growing almost desperate. His grabbed hold of my hair and pulled my face even closer to him. My own hand slipped away from his cock, and he lifted me up, laying me flat against the couch as he hovered above me.
He kicked off his pants the rest of the way, and I finally got to see all of him, up close. I ran my fingers down his chest, feeling the scars that were lined deep into his flesh. His hands lifted my t-shirt, pulling it off over my head hastily, throwing it on the floor. I wasn't wearing a bra, which seemed to surprise him, but he didn't miss a beat as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking long and hard, my body arching up to meet his as a burst of electric sensation exploded inside of me.
“Oh God,” I cried out.
The sensation of Declan's mouth on my breast sent me through the roof. It was like a direct link from my nipple to my clit. My insides ached with desire and need to be filled.
Wrapping my legs around Declan, I pulled him into me. My jeans were still on, though, and I begged him.
“Please, Declan, please,” as he continued licking and sucking my nipples.
Reaching down, he unzipped my pants and slid a hand down the front of them. He never took his mouth from my breast, even as he slid his hand between my thighs. With his fingers on my clit, I groaned as the pleasure washed over me, taking me by surprise. I cried out, shuddering against him, orgasming before he'd even really touched me. Declan managed to draw it out though, his tongue working pure magic upon my nipples and his fingers penetrating me at just the right time.
“Yes, yes,” I whimpered over and over again.
As my climax died down, Declan pulled my pants down the rest of the way, and without saying even a single word, he pressed his erection against me, rubbing the head of his cock between my thighs.
Arching my back, I push myself upward toward him, begging with my body for what I wanted – no, what I needed – the most in that moment. I needed to feel close to someone, to feel that connection with another human being. Needed to feel that energy that existed when two people are caught up in the throes of passion.
Declan reached down, grabbing his shaft in his hand and lined it up with my opening. He stared deeply into my eyes, a cocky grin on his chiseled, perfect face, as he thrust his hard cock into me, stretching me open like I'd never been stretched before. The sensation of him filling me was overwhelming and I cried out, a slight twinge of pain blending with the overwhelming crush of pleasure that rocked my body.
I grabbed onto his back, my nails digging into his flesh as he buried himself deep in my pussy. That heady mixture of pleasure and pain washed through me, taking me by surprise. It had been so long since anyone had been inside of me that feeling it again – the intense pleasure of it all – nearly made tears well in my eyes. I'd spent so much time taking care of my dad's problems, I ignored my own wants and needs. Not anymore, though.
This wasn't the ideal situation – hell, this situation was ten different kinds of crazy and fucked up – but, I was doing this for me. This was my choice. I was reclaiming some small part of my life and of myself by making the conscious decision to give myself over to Declan.
Declan groaned as he sheathed himself deep inside of me. As he buried himself to the hilt, his head fell forward, his eyes closed, and he stayed like that for a long moment. My pussy spasmed around him, as our bodies got used to being united.
“You're so fucking tight,” he said, speaking through clenched teeth.
Slowly, he started moving in and out of me, the muscles in his backside working hard as he fucked me. I arched upward to meet his thrusts, and before long, we found a rhythm all our own. He moved in and out of me with such ease, it felt like we'd been built for one another. My body stretched wide open to accept having him inside of me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Declan's forehead was pressed against mine, and I stared into those deep, piercing blue eyes, my hands kneading their way down his back.
Our groans drowned out the sound of the television, our cries getting louder and louder as the pleasure grew within me. I was so close to climaxing, I could feel it rumbling through my entire body. A warmth spread down below within me, a tightness building. I felt the impending explosion gaining steam in my belly, just on the verge of ignition.
“Declan,” I whimpered, my body shuddering underneath his. “Oh yes, Declan...”
Each time I said his name, he thrust into me harder and deeper than before. His entire body was clenched tightly, his jaw firm, each thrust bringing an animalistic grunt from him. He pressed those lips to mine again, just as my orgasm rushed through me. The tickling of his beard, the feeling of his cock inside of me, it was all too much. My body exploded, making me tremble and shake beneath him.
I bit his lip, writhing beneath him and holding on for dear life as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washed through my body. My pussy clenched and released around his cock, and Declan was struggling to stay in control of himself as my body shook and trembled around him.
“Come for me,” I whispered in his ear. “Come for me, Declan.”
Those words must have been the permission he was looking for, because he buried himself balls deep inside of me, and let loose with everything he had. He cried out as he exploded inside of me, filling me with his seed as I continued to hold onto him, not wanting the moment to end.
His eyes popped open at the moment of release, and he stared down into mine. I felt an intense sense of connection as our gazes locked, our bodies riding out the waves of pleasure together. The moment felt so glorious and perfect, and I could see the pleasure etched upon his face as he finished spilling his seed inside of me.
He collapsed on top of me, our breathing ragged but smiles on both of our faces.
“God damn,” he said. “That was – unexpected.”
I couldn't help but giggle. “Unexpected, but so much fun.”
He raised himself up on his arms again and looked at me. He was giving me a smile that could probably light up the entire city of Chicago. It made him look so sweet – almost innocent, in a way. “You surprise me, Kara,” he said.
“How so?”
“Well, not many people would willingly fuck their kidnappers,” he said, his voice still gravely and breathless.
“I'm not like most girls,” I said with a wink as I reached out and stroked his face, letting him lean into my touch. “And you're not really a kidnapper either.”
“Shh, don't tell Killian that,” he whispered.
“Don't worry. It can be our little secret,” I chuckled.