Page 78 of Deklan


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“The Hyatt downtown.”

“I’ll have Brian pick it up.” He reaches over and takes my hand. With his thumb, he slowly massages the top of my wrist as I stare out the window at the traffic.

Once we get home, Deklan takes me straight to bed. He brings me water and a sandwich, which I don’t touch, and then lies down beside me. I move closer, wrap my arm around his chest, and place my head on his shoulder.

Deklan cradles my head and runs his hand down my arm until he reaches my wrist.

“You have to kill him, Dek,” I whisper.

“Oh, baby.” He takes in a deep breath and exhales audibly. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It’s what you do for a living, isn’t it?”

His body tenses, and for a moment, he stops rubbing my wrist.

“The night we were married,” he says, “I made a promise to you. I told you that if there was ever anything you wanted that I could get for you, I would.”

He stops for a long moment, breathing slowly.

“And you never ask me for anything. You were expecting a life of extravagance with Sean, and I figured you’d demand a big house, a lot of clothing and jewelry—that kind of stuff. But you never asked for anything. You seemed perfectly happy, living the way I do. The only thing you’ve ever really asked for was to get a job.”

I glance at his face. His eyes are closed and his jaw is tight.

“And now…now you’re asking me for something, and I can’t give it to you.”

“Why not?” I glare up at him. “Because you’re in business with the guy? Whatever he does for Sean is more important than me? More important than…than Kathy’s life?”

Tears flow.

“No, Kera.” Deklan shakes his head and hugs me against him. “If that were it, I wouldn’t hesitate to give you what you want. I’m not saying that I won’t do this for you. Kera…I can’t.”

“I don’t understand. Did they arrest him?”

“No. He was long gone before anyone got there.”

“Then why did they let you go if they didn’t have him?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he says softly. “Witnesses said as much, and my gun hadn’t been fired. They had to release me.”

Deklan stops talking for a few minutes as he looks down at my hand and rubs his thumb across my wrist.

“Kera, did I hurt you? I mean, when I held you against the wall? I was only trying to keep you from falling over.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I knocked my head on the wall, but that was me, not you.”

“They kept accusing me of beating you. They said you were hurt while we were fighting, and that you were all bruised up.”

“Oh.” I stare at the buttons on Dek’s shirt.

“Kera? Where did the bruises come from?”

“The other night.”

“What other night?”

“The night before you left, um, when we were in bed. I didn’t even notice them until morning, but the ones on my arm kinda look like fingerprints.”

Deklan turns my arm over for a better look.

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