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It settles something in me, even though my nerves still feel jangled more than I want to admit to myself or anyone else. He was definitely following me.
There’s only one person I want to talk to right now and I don’t think twice about it when I pull my phone out of the small pocket in my leggings and press the button to call him as I slump back into the chair.
The phone only rings twice before Declan’s rich timbre reaches through and calms the last of my fear, “What’s wrong,mo rós beag.”
I hear some papers rustling along with the low chuckle of another man and my stomach twists. I didn’t even think about Declan being busy. I’ve avoided him, not to mention the other things I don’t even want to think about, and now I expect him to drop everything for me? What the hell is wrong with me?
“I’m sorry,” I try and keep my voice neutral and level, but it comes out shaky and tinged with fear.
His voice is granite hard and demanding as fuck, “What’s wrong?”
“I was out jogging and there was someone following me. I mean, I think he was following me. I’m fairly sure he was. He should have been able to run faster than me, but he stayed behind me. I don’t even know. Maybe I got myself all worked up over nothing. I just,” incoherent sounds and words continue to spill from me and I’m unable to stop them now that the floodgates have opened.
“Roisin,” Declan’s voice is like a whip against my mind, breaking me and the tsunami of words and emotions. It’s exactly what I need. His voice softens, “Are you safe where you are?”
I swallow and nod my head before realizing he can’t see me. “I’m safe. I ducked into a coffee shop,” I barely squeak out the words.
He sighs, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders when he knows I’m safe. It does something funny to my heart, something I shouldn’t crave with everything in me. “I can’t come to you right now because I’m in a meeting. I wish I could.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, the sound broken and battered.
“I am not leaving you out there alone with someone following you.” He grumbles something I don’t quite catch, and it sparks something in me.
I gasp, “Was it one of your guys? I didn’t even think about that.”
“It wasn’t,mo rós beag,” he soothes me before adding, “but it should have been.”
I should rage against the idea of a bodyguard. Considering I’m shaking like a leaf in a coffee shop and still unable to shake the feeling of fear surrounding me, I don’t really have a leg to stand on. I shouldn’t have gone out running in the first place. I was never going to outrun my demons.
“I’m sending Conor to you,” his voice is all McCarthy authority and I know I must obey. “Text me the name of the shop and he’ll be there.”
“Okay, Declan,” I whisper because it’s the only answer I can give.
There is so much more to say, but now isn’t the time and he’s in a meeting. I hang up and send him a message with the name of the shop and the address. I zone out even though it doesn’t take long at all for Conor to pull up, double park, and come tearing into the coffee shop.
When his eyes meet mine, they soften slightly before hardening again. I stand, my legs still shaky, and turn to give the barista behind the counter a small smile of thanks before I follow Conor out to his car.
Talk about awkward as hell car rides. The silence between us stretches and gnaws. There is so much to be said, but nothing really comes to mind. Everything is a little fuzzy around the edges. I hate it, but I know I need the clarity of Declan’s sunlight and spice scent along with the warmth of his arms around me.
Maybe then I can shake off this feeling of doom. Or maybe it’ll just envelope me further.
Conor remains silent when we get to Declan’s office which doesn’t scream Irish organized crime at all. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it’s modern, clean, and there’s not a single tattooed thug hanging around anywhere. I guess it’s not like in the movies after all.
I’m kinda bummed about that one.
Conor gives me a slight nod when he swings open an office door, the receptionist glaring at me from her perch not far away, her body encased in clothing too tight to really be considered professional. I can’t really blame her, Declan’s a catch and Conor isn’t half bad either.
If Declan’s a catch, why have you been pushing him away?
I ignore the little voice in my head and walk into the office with my head held high even though all I want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out. I freeze when I see Niall Farrell standing from where he’s sitting across from Declan. They shake hands and my heart sinks.
I only know who Niall is because of my father and Cillian Murphy. Niall is someone both men have hated for years. Because of his loyalist roots and beliefs. Because of his ties to the Orange Order.
This meeting is something my father will want to hear about. It’ll solidify everything he thinks he knows about Declan. My heart breaks because things just got more complicated than I wanted them to ever get.
Is there any way for me to come out of this with the man I love and my life?
Wait. I love Declan?
