Page 16 of Kyle

Ugly jealousy reared its head. I had no claim on Anaya, but I’d seen it once before when Declan was talking about her and I just saw it again—he admired her.

“If you need someone to talk to about all that shit, I’m here to listen,” I told him.

“’Preciate it. But I’m straight.”

No he was not straight, he wasn’t even bent, he was fuckin’ broken and refused to ask for help.

Declan took off back toward the house and I stood on the beach a little while longer staring out at the water. Dec’s childhood had been hellacious, I didn’t think his time in the CIA had been any better. Some of my earlier anger toward him waned, and I hoped to God he’d reach out instead of bottling it up.

Declan Crenshaw was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and I wanted Anaya clear of the blast.

Chapter 5

I was half-sulking, half-berating myself for lashing out the way I had.

I’d said too much.

I hated thinking about that time in my life and every time I did, my skin crawled. I could remember every last detail down to what the metal cage had felt like as the bars dug into my sides when I tried to lie down. I remember what the room looked like, what each girl had sounded like as she sobbed, what they’d said, how much the man who bought me had paid.

My life had been worth a whopping eighty-five thousand dollars. I was thirteen and untouched. My price was higher than the others. I was told I was special—a treasure.

But the truth was, I was a nobody. No one missed a foster kid when they wound up gone.

The knock at the door made me jump. I knew I was hiding out but I didn’t want to face Kyle. I slowly walked to the door, needing every step to pull myself together.

Shockingly, Declan was standing there instead of Kyle.

“May I come in?”

I absolutely did not want to go for round two with the man. He was infuriating but I stepped to the side and allowed him to enter anyway.

His gaze went around the plain room. It was ugly and bland with wood paneling covering the bottom half of the wall, the top half was painted white, and the trim and closet doors painted a glossy black. The color scheme made no sense and it left your eye fighting for a focal point when you added in the baby blue and white comforter.

“Interesting décor,” Declan noted.

“Is that what you came in for? To discuss the homeowner’s decorating style?”

His brow creased and he sighed. “I deserved that.”

I didn’t respond. What he deserved was a kick in the balls for being an asshole, but I kept my retort to myself. I had to work with him over the next few days and there was already enough tension between us. Threatening physical violence wouldn’t do anything but add to it.

“I owe you an apology.”

My face must’ve registered surprise because Declan sighed again. “I was a complete douche and let my personal shit get the better of me.”

He paused and once again glanced around the room. When his eyes came back to mine, they were unguarded and troubled. “My parents died when I was a kid. With no family to take us, my sister and I were put in the system and separated. I guess the social workers thought it would be easier to adopt us out individually. Not to mention, there were no state run orphanages that allowed boys and girls to live together. Violet was adopted quickly. I was not.”

Holy shit.

“I’m sorry, Declan. How old were you when your parents died?”

“Three, just like you.”

My body jerked and my eyes drifted closed. The funny thing about that age was, you couldn’t remember but you could. I had some vague recollections but not enough to know if they were actual memories.

“Damn,” I whispered.

“I know it doesn’t make it right, but I thought I owed you an explanation. When we first met, I didn’t think I’d have an issue with this assignment. But the more intel we got on the orphanage, the more shit started creeping up. Things I long ago buried.”