Protected by Him (2 page)

But it was Declan.

He was the same.

Tears filled my eyes and longing and emotion swelled inside of me.

“Olivia?” His voice was deeper than I remembered, but still completely familiar. I tried to get a read on it, to see if I could tell what he was feeling, but I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me, upset to see me, indifferent?

Then his face broke into a smile, so big and bright and so Declan and then he was laughing and we were hugging for forever and when he finally pulled back he looked at me and shook his head.

“Oh my God,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m sorry to just show up like this,” I said. “I don’t … I mean, I should have called, but – “

He rolled his eyes. “Family doesn’t call, Olivia.” He was still holding my hands in his and his eyes were taking me in and he was shaking his head again. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Do I look different?”

“A little, just… more grown up.” Declan smiled again, his hand giving mine a reassuring squeeze. “Come inside.”

His townhouse was cozy and new, filled with oversized furniture and that fresh, breezy smell new houses had, like maybe it had just been freshly painted.

“Sit down,” Declan said, pointing to a round maple table with blue-cushioned chairs that was set up in the eat-in kitchen. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“A drink would be great.”

He opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “Sprite and cranberry?”

“Do you have that?” I asked, grinning. Sprite and cranberry had been our drink, the drink we used to have in our foster home. Our foster dad worked for a huge beverage company, and he would get all the free cranberry juice we wanted. It wasn’t that great on its own, so we’d mix it with Sprite to try and get the soda to last longer.

“Of course,” Declan said, rolling his eyes at me teasingly, like the thought of him not having cranberry and Sprite on hand was preposterous.

He fixed our drinks, then brought the glasses to the table and sat down next to me.

“God, Olivia,” he said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Me neither.” I took a sip of my drink, rolling the sweet, fizzy liquid over my tongue. I suddenly felt surprisingly calm. This was Declan. Of course he was going to be happy to see me. It had been silly of me to worry.

“So what have you been up to?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. There was faint stubble on his cheeks and a tiny scar on his forehead that I didn’t remember him having. I wondered where he got it and what other parts of his life I’d missed. “Where are you working?”

“Um, I’m in between jobs. I was doing book keeping for this restaurant downtown, but it fell through.” It was a lie, of course, and it slipped off my tongue effortlessly, confusing me.

You couldn’t really call Loose Cannons a restaurant, unless you counted the free buffet they offered while the girls were dancing, and the job didn’t just “fall through.” But none of that was the confusing part. The confusing part was that I was lying to Declan. I
never
lied to Declan. He was the one person I didn’t have to lie to, the one person who really knew everything I’d gone through.

“What are you up to?” I asked, taking another sip of my drink and immediately turning the conversation back on him.

“I’m working in insurance,” he said sheepishly. “I know, I know, don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because it’s so boring.”

“Boring is good, Declan,” I said. “We always wanted boring, remember?”

“I do.” He scooted his chair closer to me. His presence was so familiar, so comforting. The closest thing I’d ever had to a family, the closest thing I’d ever had to someone really caring about me, was Declan.

Colt.

His name flashed through my mind like a bolt of lightning, zapping and stinging my heart. I wrapped my hands tightly around my drink as images of what we’d done together flash banged against my brain. His hands on my body, my panties stuck to my pussy, his dick sliding inside of me.

Fuck you,
I thought.
Fuck you for ruining this for me.
But I couldn’t muster up the kind of anger I needed to in order to forget about him.

“Olivia,” Declan said. He reached up and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “God, Olivia, I missed you.” His touch sent a weird sensation coursing through my body. It wasn’t bad, exactly – it felt familiar, warm, good. I remembered the way we would cuddle sometimes at night when no one was around, putting on a silly movie and making microwave popcorn that we’d buy at the dollar store and hide from the other kids. We’d watch TV and snuggle under a blanket, and I’d rest my head against his chest. It was as far as we were willing to push it, since we knew if we got caught even doing that, we’d be in trouble.

Back then my heart would pound in my chest so hard and my body would feel hot and flushed.

Now, though, I didn’t feel any of those things.

All I could think about was Colt.

My hands gripped the glass in my hand even tighter, so tight I was afraid it would break.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about you,” Declan was saying. “I wanted to find you, but I wasn’t sure how.”

The words should have made me happy, but again, all I could think about was Colt -- how he’d said that anyone who knew how to google could have tracked me down easily.

No! It wasn’t true!
I told myself. I hardly had any presence online, no email, no facebook. It would have been nearly impossible for Declan to find me.

I forced myself to relax as Declan took my drink out of my hands and set it down on the table.

“Do you remember the promise we made to each other?” His green eyes were staring into mine, and his hands were on my thighs now, gripping them gently.

“Of course.”

He smiled. “I kept that promise all these years,” he said, and I felt the devastation roll over me. He’d stayed true to me, even as he’d moved on with his life, even as he’d gotten a good job and nice a place to live. He was gorgeous and smart and kind, and he could have any woman he wanted, and yet he’d kept his promise to me.

He took my hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles softly. As his lips touched my skin the sleeve of my sweater slid up a little, and the top of my bandage peeked out. Declan’s eyes slid over it, but he didn’t say anything.

“Olivia,” he murmured, and then he was moving toward me, his lips about to brush against mine.

I turned my head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back. “I’m so sorry, Olivia. I shouldn’t have – ”

“No.” I wiped my palms on my jeans again. “I just… I need to tell you something.” I needed to tell him about Colt. I couldn’t kiss Declan and not tell him what I’d done.

It wasn’t right, and it left an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

But that wasn’t the only reason I was feeling uneasy.

I felt uneasy because I wasn’t feeling anything else.

There was no rush of excitement, no thrill in my stomach, no anticipation and butterflies. Off course I was excited to see Declan, and it wasn’t that he was making me feel weird or uncomfortable.

It was more that he wasn’t making me feel
excited.
I wasn’t getting a rush. It was like seeing an old friend – nice and comfortable, but not exciting.

Not the way it was with Colt.

Stop thinking about him!

“Go ahead,” Declan said. “Whatever it is, Olivia, you can tell me.”

I opened my mouth to start talking, but a second later, the front door opened and a girl appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She had long blonde hair and a pale complexion, and she was holding two brown grocery sacks.

“Hey!” she said happily when she saw Declan. “I got out early, so I thought I’d come over and surprise you with a home-cooked meal.” Then her eyes fell on me, and a confused look moved over her delicate features. Her gaze moved to Declan’s hands, one of them wrapped in mine, the other still on my thigh. “You have got to be kidding me.
Again,
Declan?”

He stood up, quick as a flash. “Amanda,” he said. “No, it’s not…. this isn’t what it looks like. This is Olivia. She’s my sister.”

“What?”
Amanda and I both said at the same time, both of us staring incredulously at Declan.

“I mean, she’s my foster sister. We grew up together.” He said ‘we grew up together’ the way you really would say it about a sister, and not about someone you’d made a promise to be with forever, a person you’d pretty much promised your heart to. “There’s nothing going on between us romantically. Right, Olivia?”

His eyes met mine, and I saw that same familiar look reflected there, the one Declan and I used to give each other whenever we were sharing a secret, telegraphing to the other that something needed to be kept just between us.

But those secrets, those lies we told back then, all of them were about survival, about keeping each other safe -- a lie about how much we’d eaten so that we wouldn’t be punished, a lie to a social worker about our living conditions so that we didn’t end up separated or in an even worse place. The lie he was asking me for now was just to be deceptive.

I should have told the truth. But I didn’t.

“Right,” I said, and I could taste acid burning the back of my throat. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Oh,” Amanda said, sounding relieved. “I’m Amanda, Declan’s girlfriend.” She stuck her hand out to for me to shake. There was an expensive-looking watch on her wrist, with a white leather band and tiny diamonds around the oversized face that sparkled under the lights. Her nails were neatly manicured and painted a muted pink, not too bright, not too flashy.

I took her hand.

Her skin was cold, and when she smiled, her teeth were white and perfect.

She was the exact kind of girl that Declan had said he’d never end up with.

She was the exact opposite of me.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

“No,” Declan said quickly. His eyes flashed to mine, and I could tell immediately what he was trying to tell me –
don’t say anything, we’ll talk about this later when we’re in private.
I thought it was crazy how I could still read him, even after all this time.

“No,” I said, swallowing around the lump in my throat and trying to force a casual brightness into my voice. “I’m not staying.”

I picked up my bag, and then I was out the door, rushing down the sidewalk, Declan calling after me. When I didn’t turn around, I heard his footsteps behind me.

“Hey,” he said when he got to me. I turned, watching as he ran his hands through his hair nervously. “Olivia, I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “I just… I didn’t know what to say, how to tell you.”

“It’s fine,” I lied. It wasn’t fine. It was dishonest and horrible. He hadn’t just lied to Amanda, he’d lied to me, too. He’d told me he’d kept his promise to me. And yeah, I’d broken my promise, too, but at least I’d been willing to own it. Declan had been about to to kiss me back there, to let me believe that he’d never kissed anyone else.

“Listen, I want to see you again,” he said.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to see me again?”

“Because I missed you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut tight. How could I have gotten this so wrong? This whole time, I’d been thinking about Declan, missing him, planning my life around him, pinning all my hopes on him. And meanwhile, he’d been pinning his hopes on
himself,
creating a job, a girlfriend, a home, a world.

All the things I should have been doing.

I turned.

And I ran.

He called after me, but when I glanced over my shoulder a few seconds later, he wasn’t following me. He was just standing there at the end of his driveway. I kept running and when I looked back again, he was gone.

I ran all the way down the hill, back toward the end of the street, faster and faster, my legs pumping. Soon I got caught up in the momentum of the downward slope and I couldn’t control it and before I knew it I fell to the pavement, scraping my hands against the gravel.

I caught myself before I fell to my knees, but not before the rough surface of the road burned against my skin and one of the cuts on my wrist opened up.

“Shit,” I swore, and biter tears filled my eyes.

And then, suddenly, a car turned onto the street and pulled up next to me, so close I could smell the rubber from the tires and the exhaust from the tailpipe, and I thought for sure it would be that FBI agent, Caleb, that he’d followed me here. I wouldn’t be able to stand up to him this time, I decided. He was catching me at my lowest moment and I wouldn’t have the strength.

Maybe he would arrest me. I didn’t even care. I had nowhere to spend the night tonight, anyway, it might as well be in jail.

Then someone was calling my name.

“Olivia.”

And then he was there, Colt, his arms encircling my waist, picking me up from where I was collapsed on the pavement.

You’re safe.
The thought burned in my brain automatically, but I rebelled against it. I wasn’t safe with him. I wasn’t safe with anyone but myself. Still. He felt so good, his chest so strong and firm, his body like rock hard granite, the kind of strength that would never, ever let anything hurt me.

And yet he
had
hurt me.

He’d slept with me and then he hadn’t even cared if I went to see Declan, and now he was back to mess with my mind some more.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and then he was holding my hands in his, checking my wrists, handling me delicately, the way he had last night when he’d caught me cutting myself. I remembered the concern that had been on his face, the way he’d told me I wasn’t going to cut myself anymore. But it had all been for show. Last night, I’d let him in, let myself think or wish that maybe he cared about me a little bit. But he didn’t care about me. So this time, I yanked my wrists away.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled. I started walking back down the street.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Colt sounded exasperated and now the bastard was following me, but I kept walking. I’d get to the main road, and if he was still following me, I’d start screaming that I had a stalker.