Page 50 of Declan

“Go home, Dec. You look tired.”

Nothing.

“Seriously. Leave.”

Silence.

Warning sirens blared in my head. The instincts that had failed me in Afghanistan were alerting me there was a clear and present danger in the room and I needed to flee. Run. Get the fuck away from Declan Crenshaw as fast as I could.

Then his eyes narrowed and I wondered if he could smell it—no doubt the man he was, he could sniff the fear oozing out of me. To him, to the shark he was, it called like blood in the water. I knew this to be true when he started circling. Not literally, but figuratively. He studiously stared, his eyes bore into mine, and I knew the fear wasn’t oozing, I simply reeked of it.

He needed to leave.

I wasn’t afraid Declan would physically hurt me, but he could emotionally demolish me. And the longer he studied me, the more I knew deep in my bones he was gearing up to tear me down.

“You need to take something for the pain,” he said.

“Huh?”

That was not what I thought he was going to say. Tremendous relief flooded me. We weren’t hashing out what happened in Afghanistan.

Unfortunately, that relief was short-lived.

“A pain pill, Autumn. You need to take one.”

“I don’t take pain medication.”

“Why the fuck not? I’ve been watching your face pinch in extreme discomfort for hours so don’t bother denying you’re not in pain. I see it, Autumn. Take a damn pill.”

He was wrong. I wasn’t in extreme discomfort, I wasn’t even in pain. I was in absolute agony.

But I still wasn’t taking a damn pill.

“None of your business, Declan. I’m tired. Go home.”

“Why not?”

“Go home.”

“Jesus Christ, woman!” he shouted. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me why the fuck you’d rather be in pain—”

“I don’t like to be drugged,” I snapped.

“Bab—”

“Shut up. You wanted to push. There you have it. Bad shit happens to me when I’m not in control. When my mind is foggy. So, yes, I’d rather be in pain and know what’s happening to me than be drugged and powerless.”

“And you don’t trust me to watch over you.” His gruff voice filled my small living room, bounced around the room and hit me with the force of a speeding car.

“What?”

“You don’t trust me to protect you?”

His unexpected question took me off-guard. But his wild eyes held my attention.

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” He stalked to the door, finally doing what I’d asked, but I couldn’t let him leave.