13. Declan

DECLAN

I wakeup before Bree and get into the shower immediately, trying to clean off the sweat and dirt from yesterday. I told her the truth when I told her that I was only relaying messages to Renno, it was his men that didn't get the memo.

But there is still something I need to do. And it's the last thing I want to do in my honeymoon, but this was a last-minute assignment Da threw at me.

And I'm already so tired. I just want this all to be over, but as long as people keep disobeying my father, I'll have this kind of thing to do.

I kiss Bree on the forehead before I leave. It's barely daylight, and she doesn't even open her eyes.

I walk down to Finn's room. Sean will be staying to protect Bree. Finn's a little bigger than his brother, and more intimidating looking with his close-cropped dark hair, where Sean's is long and reddish blond.

He's Irish coming around a corner, but Finn isn't. And I don't want us to be recognized. As soon as Ronan Sullivan sees us, he'll know he's caught, and he'll fight like the cornered animal he is.

Finn comes to the door immediately, freshly showered and wearing comfortable clothes—just jeans and a T-shirt. I'm dressed similarly. We need the element of surprise.

"How many?" Finn asks as we head down to the valet.

"Two, maybe three," I tell him. "Sullivan works in small groups."

"Do we leave any of them alive?"

I shake my head solemnly. "They knew what they signed up for when they sided with a thieving rat."

Finn nods. "Where are we meeting them?"

"We're going to surprise them at the warehouse. They should have had a shipment last night—guns, probably AKs. They won't be loaded, so they'll just be armed with their handguns."

"He's skimming off the top?"

"Enough that Da couldn't not notice."

Finn whistles. "Your da lets a lot slide."

I think sometimes Da lets too much slide, but that's Gray's problem, not mine. Gray's going to inherit everything, not me. I don't think I'm built for this life, really, built for this amount of violence.

We head to the warehouse, and I park a couple of blocks away.

We step out of the car, and I start walking with Sean as if we're just going on a morning stroll. The drop-off was supposed to be at daylight, so they should still be at the location.

I catch sight of a few crates as we get closer, and I grab Sean and pull him behind them. I draw my gun, and Sean follows suit as we walk up closer, hiding behind the crates here and there.

There are two guys laughing and taking things from crates as Sullivan supervises next to them.

One's a young guy I've never seen before, couldn't be more than twenty.

Fuck.

I hate killing kids, even if they're technically adults. But this kid knew what he was getting into. And if you work with the Burkes, you don't break your word.

I come out from behind the crates and shoot the kid in the head, giving him a quick death, before Sean shoots the other guy next to Sullivan, another man I don't recognize.

Sullivan's eyes bug out of his head, and he drops to his knees, clasping his hands together in front of me. "Please, boss. Please, don't kill me, I'm sorry. I got five kids, I?—"

I shoot him point blank, and his body slumps to the floor.

"Jesus," I mumble, looking over at Sullivan's body twitching. "Wish we could've brought Sean."

"You're telling me." Finn shakes his head and goes to search their pockets. When he finds some car keys, he tries them and one of them is an SUV.

He gets one of the tarps laying around the warehouse floor, putting it in the back of the SUV and throws the bodies inside. I help him with the last couple, looking into the kid's dead brown eyes and wanting to vomit.

I have killed so many by now, I should be numb when I kill anymore. It's like after the first time, the second time, the third—it should start feeling like a chore instead of taking a life.

It doesn't. I still feel each life I take as a slice of my soul being torn away.

Finn and I drive to the Escalade, and he drives the SUV as I follow behind.

We leave the bodies rotting in the Nevada desert, and I take the chance to change my shirt, burning the bloody one. Before starting the engine, I look down to make sure there's no stray droplets on my skin.

We drive to an area that is notorious for crime, where we know the car will disappear from our hands soon enough and leave it with the keys inside in plain sight.

By the time we drive back to the hotel, I'm exhausted all over again.

I check in with Sean, to be sure that nothing happened.

He cracks his jaw in a yawn as he opens the door. "She's been fine. Stayed in the room. I think she's still asleep."

I nod tightly. "Good."

"How'd it go?"

"It's handled."

I don't want to think about it anymore, about the way that kid's brown eyes stared lifeless at me. How he never even got to beg for his life.

All I want is to get back into bed with my wife. See for myself that she is there. That she is real.

Sure, it's terrifying to think that she's the one person that can calm me down, and she's Niall Murphy's daughter, but right now, I'm just seeking comfort, craving her touch.

I push away all the fear as I head into our room and climb back into bed with Bree.

She hums, turning toward me, and she tucks her face into my good shoulder. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere important," I tell her, and she mumbles something incoherent and presses herself into my arms.

It's the first time she's initiated this kind of contact, this kind of intimate contact that isn't sex, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

"Is it time to go?" she asks, and I draw in a breath.

"Yes," I murmur, some part of me wishing we could stay here forever, in this little bubble, and I could pretend that I didn't just kill three men and leave them to rot in the Nevada sun.

I could pretend that I'm really on my honeymoon, with a woman who loves me instead of one who I started having feelings for but merely tolerates me.

Bree yawns, flipping over to wake up, and then she heads to the bathroom.

I rub my hands across my face, knowing that I have a long trip ahead of me.

Bree and I head to the private jet, Sean and Finn drive to the airport to fly first class.

"Why don't they ride with us?" she asks.

"It's our honeymoon," I tell her, and she smiles slightly. It doesn't quite reach her eyes.

I know she knows that something happened today. She's not stupid. After all, she grew up in this life, too. She knows that I have blood on my hands, just like her father.

Even though I'd like to claim I'm nothing like him, that's one thing that we do have in common.

The plane ride back seems longer than the plane ride there.

"You look ready to be home," Bree muses.

"I am," I admit. "It's been a long trip."

"I actually had a great time."

I smile at her, and she leans her head against my shoulder.

"I did, too," I utter, and she takes my hand, squeezing it.

My heart clenches in my chest.

What is this feeling? Guilt? Pity? Is it just because this is the kind of marriage, the kind of life I've always secretly wished for?

It's not real. It'll never be real.

Real or not, though, her nearness comforts me on the trip home.

When we arrive home, there's barely time to put the bags down before Gray and my father whisk me away.

I wave slightly at Bree as she gets carted off by my sisters, and she waves back.

My father sits me down, and I wince a bit as he puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Did you speak to Renno?"

"Of course I did. After one of his men tried to dislocate my shoulder," I drawl.

My father laughs at my pain. "You should've known not to sneak up on them."

"Yeah, yeah."

"What about Sullivan?"

"Took him out. Me and Finn. They"re in the desert."

My father nods. "Good job, Declan. I knew I sent the right man."

Gray scoffs. "You only sent him because I don't have a cover to go to Las Vegas."

I look up at Gray. Is he jealous?

I wouldn't be surprised. Gray's always been kind of the golden child of the Burkes, but lately, my father has been taking up a lot of time with me and giving me a lot of work. It's not that Gray couldn't do most of what I do—he just wouldn't be good to have a marriage as cover. He's just not the marrying type.

I never thought I was either, but having Bree makes me rethink things. Having a wife has been more fun than I imagined. You have a smart, funny, beautiful woman to come home to, and if you feel up to it, she'll argue with you, and you can have hot make-up sex.

What more could a guy want?

It would have been nice to be able to choose it, but I have to admit, I don't think I ever would have chosen someone as great as Bree. The way she makes me feel should really terrify me, and it's starting to.

It's not just that she's a warm body. It's because it's her, because she's bright and funny and sassy, and I like her. Love is a different story, but I definitely like her, and that's enough to make me feel a little panicky.

"How was your honeymoon?" Gray smirks at me.

"I won fifty thousand dollars."

He chokes.

"Did you get thrown out of the casino again?" my father asks in a scolding tone.

"No, Da."

Just barely.

"Don't go thinking you can get the gambling bug again," my father warns, and I smirk.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, because I bought off enough casino thugs to finance a college education."

Gray snorts out a laugh. "I was more asking if you consummated your marriage?"

"That would be none of your business," I mutter, and Gray brays out a laugh.

"That's a yes, isn't it? You dog."

My father claps me on my good shoulder. "Good job, Declan. You're doing great, boyo."

"Thank you." The praise makes me feel a little awkward. I'm not all that used to it. Gray's usually the one getting praise. "I think I'm going to nap before dinner."

I stand up and walk into the foyer, hoping to see Bree, but she's off somewhere gossiping with my sisters, most likely.

I drag myself up the stairs, feeling more exhausted than I ever have in my life, and I wish Bree was there to cuddle with me.

What?

What am I thinking?

I don't need her to fall asleep.

After an hour, I huff and roll over, just wearing a pair of gray sweats after I'd dressed down to bed, and I walk out into the hall, going over to the wing where Paige's bedroom is.

I rap softly on the door, and Paige opens it, frowning.

"What are you doing here? You've had her all week."

Bree stands up.

"What is it?" She looks concerned.

"Can't sleep without you." Fuck. I sound like a sap.

Paige squeals, "That's so cute, Declan."

"It doesn't mean anything," I insist as Bree leads me back to the bedroom, waving goodbye at Paige and Lara. "It's just been a long time since I slept alone."

"I know." Bree's being kind to me, and I'm barely keeping my eyes open I'm so tired.

She puts me into the bed, cuddling up next to me, fully dressed, and once I can breathe in the rosewater scent of her hair, I instantly relax, drifting off into sleep.

By the time I wake up, it's time for dinner, and Bree is dressed in a nice, white shift dress that shows off her slight tan.

I groan. "I don't want to dress for dinner. Just bring me a plate."

Bree tsks. "You know that your father likes us all to have dinner together. Put on some pants."

She throws a pair of slacks on the bed, and I grab them and slide them on, as well as a t-shirt she throws in my direction.

I'm not dressed nicely for dinner, but so what? I'm jet lagged.

Gray starts to cheer and wolf whistle as we come into the dining room, and I can't help but laugh.

I'm getting used to this being married thing, and I hope that Bree is, too.

Maybe that should scare me, but it doesn't.

Should I be worried?