Page 83 of Deklan


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“To Kathy or when I was a kid?”

“Either. Both.”

“Why would I blame you if you’re the one who rescued me?”

“You might think I was responsible for having you kidnapped.”

“Were you? Was Foley?”

“God, no.” Deklan turns to face me. “I didn’t even know your name before your father came to ask for Fergus’s help. Kidnapping kids…that isn’t something I would ever do. It’s a fucked up organization I’m in, but Fergus never would have sanctioned something like that.”

“Would Sean?” I ask quietly, and Deklan snorts.

“Then? No.” He shakes his head and places the glass back on the coffee table. “Now…well, I wouldn’t put anything past him now.”

Deklan closes his eyes. His face looks relaxed, but his shoulders are tense as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. I realize that is exactly what he is doing and reach out to touch his arm.

“I don’t blame you for Kathy,” I say softly.

He turns his head toward me, and the light hits his eyes in such a way that it looks like he is ready to cry, but I’m sure I see it wrong.

“I shouldn’t have argued with you,” he says.

“I was drunk,” I say. “If anyone started anything, it was me.”

He closes his eyes and opens his arms, and I crawl into his lap. Wrapped up in his strength, I let the tears flow again.

“I’m so sorry, Kera. I’m sorry all this happened.”

I cry into his shirt with my fingers digging into his shoulders, and he just holds me there. Memories of Kathy flash through my mind—everything from the playground in grade school to our room service breakfast in bed.

Eventually, my cries turn to sniffles, but I don’t let go. Deklan just keeps holding me and occasionally kissing my head. I’ve probably ruined his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care. He strokes my hair and rubs my wrists until I pull back and look up at him, studying his face.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was you,” I say.

“You’ve blocked it out,” Deklan replies with a shrug. “It makes sense you wouldn’t remember my part in it.”

“But I don’t even remember being here for more than half a day.”

“You slept most of that time.”

“Still…” I place my head back on his shoulder, but I can’t form any words to go with my thoughts.

“I was going to tell you,” Deklan says, “several times, actually. It just never seemed to be the right time. I was shocked when I realized you didn’t remember, and after that…well, it’s not exactly a topic that just comes up in normal conversation.”

“I’m glad it was you.” I wrap my arms around my husband’s neck and press my cheek to his.

“Glad it was me who rescued you or glad it was me you married?”

“Both.”

Deklan grins and presses his mouth to mine. He kisses me slowly and gently before wiping the tears from my cheeks.

“So am I,” he says. He wipes more tears away and stares at me intently. “Do you remember any of it? I mean, now that I told you my side of things? Did that make you remember?”

“Not really,” I say. “There are a few flashes. I remember the gun shots and you picking me up. I remember that it was raining. Everything that happened before that is blank.”

“Maybe that’s best,” Deklan says quietly. “Maybe you don’t need to know any more.”

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