19. Declan

DECLAN

I spendthe night in the guest room, and it's all I can do not to go to Bree in the middle of the night.

I don't sleep.

It's not her fault that her father is the way he is. It's not her fault that she didn't know.

God, I think I am in love with her.

What am I going to do? She probably hates me for telling her what her father has done, probably hates me for kidnapping her.... Do I even deserve to want her love back?

The next morning, she isn't at breakfast when I go down, and I stand up from the table, huffing out a breath.

Lara reaches up and touches my arm. "Don't."

"I have to check on her." I need to make sure she is okay.

"I'll do it."

"But I need to see her."

"You don't need to see her. You want to see her. She doesn't want to see you."

I let out a long breath. "But... she needs to know that I'm thinking about her."

"She knows." Lara pats my hand reassuringly and walks up the stairs. I watch her go for a moment and then start to pace around the kitchen.

"I'm coming with you and Gray next week," my father's voice comes from the open kitchen.

I glance over to see him eating a piece of bacon, walking into the dining room.

"You're coming with us?" I ask, surprised and for once, distracted from thinking about Bree.

He nods. "It's time I made an appearance."

My father isn't one of those bosses who makes everyone do his dirty work. He likes to be with his men, to be in just as much danger as he's putting them through. I respect him for that.

"Are you sure?" It's been a while since Da has been in the shit, as we call it, and he nods.

"I'm sure. Monday."

We always do our visits on Mondays, so I'm not surprised.

"All right, Da."

"How's your girl?" he asks with a twinkle in his eye.

I sigh. "I don't know."

"She's got a lot to think about, boyo. Don't push too hard." He claps me on the back as he walks away, back into the kitchen.

Marisol laughs at something he says.

I smile a little. I've always thought that Da and Marisol should start dating, since she's single and childless, but I guess that'll never happen.

He's still married to Ma, in his heart, and I can't blame him for that.

They'd been so in love.

I still remember a day when they'd been dancing. Ma giggled as Da swept her off her feet, kissing her throat, and little me stood in the doorway, watching, covering my mouth with my hand.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry, and I wasn't sure why.

Now I know what that feeling was.

Longing.

I'd wanted, even at six years old, what my parents had. I'd wanted someone to dance with in the kitchen, someone to come home to.

And now that I had a taste of it, of what it could be, I want it even more. Want her even more.

But now, after all the blood that's on my hands, after being the Irish scourge for most of my life—do I even deserve a woman like Bree?

Lara comes back downstairs, and I instantly go to her, meeting her at the base of the staircase.

"She's going to be okay." She pats my shoulder. "But you've got to give her some more space, Declan."

"I don't know if I can do that," I admit, frowning. "I need to see her."

Lara smiles. "I guess maybe you're not so against the idea of marriage anymore?"

I sigh. "Just... call me if she needs me," I say, not wanting to get into it with my sister, of all people.

I need to talk to someone, but it can't be Lara. She'll tell Paige, and Paige will tell everybody.

Bree doesn't come down for dinner that night, and all of us are a little subdued after last night's conversation.

When I excuse myself from the table, I go right to the bedroom, feeling silly for knocking on my own bedroom door.

"Yes?" Bree calls.

"Can I come in?"

She pauses, and for a moment I think she won't let me in, and my heart drops.

Then the door swings open, and she stands there in a fluffy pink bathrobe, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

"Oh, princess," I murmur, walking inside, and she steps back as if she doesn't want me to touch her.

I put my hands up in defense. "I just wanted to see you. I can leave if you want."

"Don't want you to leave," she mumbles, climbing back into bed.

"You need to eat something," I say gently. "Can I get you some soup from downstairs? It's cream of chicken with wild rice, Marisol's specialty."

"I don't want to eat."

"I know, baby, but you have to." I sit on the edge of the bed and when I reach out to smooth the baby hairs from her face, she wrenches away.

"How can you stand to touch me?" She draws in a ragged breath. "How can you stand to even look at me?"

"Bree, you're not your father."

"I have his blood," she says stubbornly. "I have his eyes, his stupid chin." She rubs at her face, as if wanting to rub away the resemblance, which is remarkable.

I've never met her brother, Rory, but if he looks as much like his father, they'd probably look like twins.

"You don't have his black heart." I climb into bed with her, pulling her into my arms even as she protests. Eventually, she relaxes against me, her back against my chest, her baby hairs tickling my jawline.

I don't say another word, but she falls asleep. If her night was anything like mine, she needs it.

With her body next to mine, I can relax for the first time since dinner last night.

Soon, I drift off too, and we sleep in each other's arms.

Monday seems to come quickly.Bree is still a little quiet, but she's better, engaging with Paige and Lara, almost back to normal. I think she's finally accepted her role here, that she's part of the family.

As much as I hadn't wanted it at first, I have to admit that I'm over the moon about it now. I want Bree to be a part of my life, and I'm trying to come to terms with that.

I knock on Gray's door, and he groans in response. I raise an eyebrow, grinning.

Is there a girl in there?

I throw open the door and Gray's alone, looking pale and drawn on his bed.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I had gas station sushi last night after a pitcher of beer," he says, gagging, and running to the bathroom.

I laugh out loud. "You should sit this one out, brother."

He throws me a thumbs up, hunched over the toilet, and I walk to my father's office, knowing he'll already be up and ready to go.

I'm wearing a suit because we have a few people to offer protection to today.

Da is in his office, fully dressed and standing behind his desk.

"Gray is... under the weather."

Da laughs. "I knew he would be. He and Cillian went out last night."

I chuckle. My friend can really raise hell, so I'm not surprised. I am, I guess, a little surprised that Gray went along with it, but he's been letting loose a little lately.

And it's a good thing too because he needs it.

"It's good to see him letting his hair down," Da says, and I nod.

We head out in my father's Escalade, driving to the south side to collect some payments. All goes well and everyone is happy—or alternately, terrified—to see my father out and about.

"It's been too long," Jimmy Connor says as we approach one of our warehouses. He's got a new shipment of both dust and guns, and he wants us to do our usual check.

"It has." Da pulls Jimmy into a quick hug.

Jimmy beams at him.

All of my father's men worship him like a hero, and I can't say I'm much different.

I think about Bree, and my heart goes out to her. My father has done some things neither of us are proud of, but deep down, I know that he's a good man. Bree cannot think the same about her father, not anymore.

I feel a little guilty for taking that blissful ignorance away from her, but it had to be done. She won't talk about it, instead chatting about idle things, and I can understand that she needs more time to process.

We haven't made love since that first night it went from fucking to more, and I don't want to push her, but I'm starting to get sexually frustrated having her near naked in my bed every night.

But for her, I'll wait as long as it takes.

I must be staring off into space because Jimmy snaps his fingers in front of my eyes.

I blink. "Shit. Sorry."

"He was thinking about that bonny new wife of his," Da says with a low chuckle.

"No, I wasn't," I blurt, although he's caught me red-handed.

"You were," Jimmy pipes in, laughing. "That's fair enough. I was at the wedding, and she's a real looker."

My cheeks start to feel hot, and I hate it. I don't blush or get embarrassed easily, but something about talking about Bree like she's really my wife...

"What do you think about her?" Jimmy asks. "Is everything going okay?"

"Fine," I mutter.

My father's looking at me as if he has something to say. I finally roll my eyes and look at him.

"What is it, Da?"

"You have feelings for your wife."

I scoff. "Is that so crazy?"

"Nah." He shakes his head. "She's a good girl. Bonny but also sweet, and that's important."

"You're not upset?"

"That you have feelings for your own wife?" His eyes widen. "Of course not."

"But she's a Murphy."

"Having Murphy blood doesn't make you a monster," he points out. "It's the heart that does that, and hers is as white as his is black."

We make our way to the crates and shipments.

Before we can crack even the first one open, my father stops me, holding up his hand to his mouth to make sure I'm quiet.

I freeze, holding the crowbar, and Jimmy does, too, looking to where my father's gaze is, staring at the front door.

Surely, no one would try to come in the fron?—

Gunshots ring out, and I yelp and hit the deck.

Jimmy and my father follow suit, bringing out their guns as I chuck the crowbar and draw my own.

The crowbar hits a man square in the eye, and I would snicker if I wasn't currently afraid for my life.

"Stay down, boyo!" Da yells, but I'm already up and shooting.

Shooting, Finn comes in from the back where he was waiting for us.

A bullet whizzes by my ear as I keep shooting, and then I realize that the men are... retreating?

There's about four of them, so it's a fair fight, and they've already shot through half the windows in the warehouse. Dust is pouring out of a couple of crates where they've been shot.

Da takes a shot at the man who fired first and catches him right between the eyes.

The other men curse and scramble, into a minivan that takes off just as Jimmy and Finn run after them, shooting.

I stand up. "Jesus crow."

The world tilts around me for a second, probably from the adrenaline. I look at Da to see how he is and his face is pale as he looks at me.

"You're hit," he says quietly.

"What?" I look down at my chest is covered in blood. The world tilts around me again, and I brace myself up against the crate.

"Finn!" Da screams, and then I go down.