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“You.” That was the only word out of his mouth. I can’t deny the feeling of excitement that courses through my body.
“I guess I can’t go back on my word, can I?” I turn to face him once more, pulling my hand back so he can’t pull me down again. “That’s not very ‘boss’ worthy, is it? I’m going to bed.” I turn on my heel and walk away.
“Goodnight,mo ghrá,” he calls after me right as I shut the door.
Once I’m in my room, I change out of my leggings and t-shirt. Before sliding into my pajamas, I take a second to look at my reflection. My eyes survey every scar. Tears come to my eyes as I run my hands over them. I will never admit this to him, but Declan was doing me a favor by running off those men. I know they would have taken one look at these and bolted.
It’s not like these scars came from doing things I enjoyed. My father was a cruel man, and he didn’t care whom he inflicted pain on. Even his daughter. My eyes travel to the scar from a gunshot near my pelvis. Running my fingers over it, I blink back the tears. He claims it was an accident, and he thought the safety was on. But he has been handling guns since he was strong enough to hold one. There’s no way it was an accident.
I’ve never seen my mother, or Eric, so pissed at him before. It hit just the right spot, causing Eric no choice but to perform a partial oophorectomy. So, not only do I get to grapple with the fact that I will never be Dmitri in my father's eyes, but when it comes time to carry on our lineage, it can be a potential challenge.
On top of all the scars, I take in the healing cuts from last week. Taking my hand and tracing the ones that frame my breasts, I sigh. Out of all the ones I’ve had, this is one that I’m most self-conscious about.
Tearing my eyes away from my tattered body, I throw my pajamas on and climb into bed. After staring at the wall for the better part of an hour, it doesn’t look like sleep will be coming for me any time soon. So, I get out of bed, grab a sweatshirt, and throw it on before walking to the living room.
I’m not surprised to see Declan still awake. He’s watching some reality show and doesn’t seem to notice that I am in the room yet. I walk into the kitchen and grab my glass from earlier, fill it up, and sit down at the table.
Declan must have heard me because when I turn around, he’s standing in the doorway. “I thought you were going to bed?” He asks, grabbing a glass for himself and taking a seat across from me.
“I couldn’t sleep…” I trail off, taking a sip of my drink.
“Want to talk about it?” He asks.
“Not really,” I mumble, looking down at the amber liquid.
“Come on, Nat…” Declan urges.
“Before you commit to spending your life with me, there’s something you need to know, Dec.” I take a sip from my glass and clear my throat. “Remember how I had to cancel one of our meetings six months ago?” I ask.
“I do, yes.” He takes a sip of his drink and eyes me curiously.
“Well, I lied about the reason, partially. I said I couldn’t get away, and that part was true. I just couldn’t get away because I was recovering from a gunshot wound.” I rush out, looking back down at the table.
“What do you mean, a gunshot wound?” He asks, putting his glass down on the table.
“I was doing some training with my father, and he accidentally shot me,” I say with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.
“Accidentallyshot you? Yeah right,” Declan grits out. “You and I both know that’s a lie. Where?”
I hesitate for a moment, but Declan’s face is furious. I know I won’t be getting out of this. I stand, raising my shirt with one hand and lowering the waistband of my pants with the other, revealing my scar. Declan grabs my hip gently and pulls me closer, examining the blemish. He shakes his head and sighs.
“I had failed at interrogating someone,” I explain, “and he was showing me places to hit them that would cause extreme pain and get them talking. He was angry and when he pointed it at my hip, his finger pulled the trigger out of habit. That’s his story, anyway.”
Declan flexes his jaw and looks away from me. “I’m so sorry,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
“I just wanted to tell you because, well…” I trail off and pick up my glass again, downing the rest of my drink.
“Well, what Natalia?” He impatiently asks, tapping his finger on his glass.
“Eric had to do a partial oophorectomy… that may cause issues when it comes time to have kids.” I set my glass down on the table. “That and the fact that the scar tissue will make it harder to actually carry a child if I do get pregnant.”
“Nat. That is something that we will deal with when we need to. It’s not a deal breaker for me,” he reaches up and strokes my cheek.
I let out a sigh and lean into his touch. “So, you’re really in this?”
“Until death do us part,” Declan says with a smile.
I roll my eyes and give him the tiniest hint of a smile. “You’re so cheesy.” Looking down at him, I raise my hand and run it through his hair.
