Deklan Page 4

  He stands in the doorway for a moment. He looks angry, and I brace myself for whatever that might mean.

  “Do you want help,” he asks, “or do you prefer to keep struggling with it?”

  “Help,” I say quietly. I close my eyes as I turn away so he can reach my back, wondering if he can hear my heart pounding.

  I feel his hands at the hooks between my shoulder blades, and I wonder if he can even release the tiny clasps with his big fingers. I glance sideways at the mirror, but it’s small, and the angle is wrong. I can’t see what he’s doing.

  I close my eyes again and try to feel what he’s doing instead. There’s a slight tug as the satin ribbon is untied, and then the dress begins to loosen from top to bottom as he works each hook in turn. The shoulders of the dress sag down my arms a bit, and Deklan places his hand at the back of my neck.

  I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. Maybe I was wrong, and he’s not going to fuck me first. Maybe he doesn’t like me, and he’s just going to snap my neck right now.

  He rubs the back of my neck for a moment, and then I feel him trail his finger down my bare back, stopping at my waist, just above the curve of my ass. I think his finger is right at the edge of my lacy, white panties, and I can hear his breath becoming heavier.

  “Is that better?” he asks. His voice is soft and gruff.

  “Yes.” I can feel the heat from his body at my bare back, but he’s still only touching me with his finger.

  “Do you want more help?”

  “I think I can manage.”

  “I’ll be close by if you need anything else.”

  “Okay.”

  He walks out, closing the door behind him while I wonder why I didn’t ask him for a toothbrush. I rummage through the bag again, but there isn’t a little zippered pocket or anything like that inside of it, and my dress is trying to fall right off of me as I move.

  With a deep breath, I stand and slip the dress from my body. Behind the bathroom door is a hook, and I hang the dress there, smoothing it slightly before stepping away and grabbing the lingerie from its box.

  Ditching my bra and panties, I replace them with the white silk. Though it covers me from the top of my breasts to the top of my thighs, it’s practically see-though.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, but when I open them, I’m staring into the mirror again. My dark hair is piled on top of my head with a ton of pins and another ribbon. Should I take them all out?

  If I do, my hair will be a disaster, and I have no hairbrush. There’s no way Deklan’s simple comb will leave me with anything other than frizz, so I decide to just leave it as it is.

  With a final, deep breath, I open the bathroom door. Deklan isn’t in the hallway, but I hear him in the next room. The door is open, so I walk in.

  Much like the rest of the apartment, Deklan’s bedroom is plain and undecorated. The only thing of note—and it’s a big note—is the bed. It’s huge. It’s bigger than any king-size bed I have ever seen. It’s covered with a duvet, and there are six pillows on it. It looks like he just went into a nice department store and bought the display.

  Maybe he did.

  Deklan is standing by the dresser, depositing his watch and wallet onto a small tray. His gun is in its holster sitting next to the tray. He’s ditched his bowtie and cummerbund, and his shirt is untucked. Deklan has his back to me, and I watch him for a moment as he stares at his left hand, silently rotating the platinum band around his finger.

  I take another step into the room, and he turns.

  “Sweet Jesus.” Deklan’s eyes go wide as he gawks, and I feel my face go red. His gaze travels from my face to my bare feet and then back again. Deklan licks his lips as he takes a predatory step toward me.

  I stiffen and keep my eyes focused on the floor in front of me.

  He looks like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans down and presses his lips against mine. I close my eyes and tilt my head up as I feel his hand move around the back of my neck. He puts more pressure against my lips as I place my hands tentatively on his waist.

  I open my mouth, allowing his tongue access to mine. His hand grips my head and neck as he deepens the kiss. I stay still, not returning the kiss. I can’t move. All I can think about is the lack of a toothbrush.

  Deklan pulls back, and I open my eyes. His eyes are narrowed as he looks me over and sighs again.

  “Kera, we don’t have to do this tonight.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Sean wants it.”

  “He isn’t here,” Deklan says, “and I’ve got the weekend off. He isn’t expecting to see me until Monday. There is plenty of time.”

  How long will it take for you to dispose of my body?

  Will my body ever be found? Do my parents already know, or will they look for me? Will the police get involved or look the other way like they usually do when it comes to the Foley’s activities? Will some hiker come by my remains accidentally? What will I look like?

  I don’t have any clothes to wear tomorrow. I don’t even have a hairbrush here.

  Without warning, I burst into tears. I’m not crying over my impending wedding night and subsequent death. I’m crying because I’m going to be buried in a shallow grave with unbrushed teeth.

  “Kera? What’s wrong?” Deklan grips my upper arms and tilts his head to look me in the eye.

  “Nothing.” I sob as I turn away from him.

  “Would you stop that?” Deklan lets out a long sigh. “Just tell me, all right?”

  He’s staring at my face, his expression intense—worried. Why would he be worried? Didn’t he expect me to cry when he held a gun to my head—or would a gunshot be too loud, and he plans to use a knife? Maybe he’ll smother me with a pillow.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks quietly. “Please, Kera, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s just…just…I don’t have anything to wear tomorrow. My mom didn’t pack me a toothbrush or a change of clothes. I don’t have any deodorant or socks or anything, and I know why!”

  I put my hands over my face. I sound ridiculous, and he’s going to think I’m a whiny child. I brace myself, waiting for him to smack me for being so obnoxious and needy. When Mom whines about not having what she wants, dad always backhands her to shut her up.

  “What do you mean, you ‘know why’?” Deklan takes my wrists and pulls them from my face.

  “Never mind,” I whisper as I turn my head so I don’t have to look at him. “It’s nothing. Mom’s just…forgetful. Dad’s always saying that. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. You look…terrified.”

  He takes my chin in his hand and won’t let me look away, keeping his grip firm as he stares at me. There’s no avoiding this. There is no point in prolonging the inevitable. It’s best to just let it all out now. I take a deep breath.

  “I know what you meant when you said you were going to take care of me,” I say.

  Deklan frowns and looks confused.

  “I can take it,” I say softly. “If you’re going to kill me, can we just get it over with?”

  “Kill you?”

  I let out a long breath. I’m officially tired of the charade.

  “I know that’s what you’re going to do,” I tell him. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s not like I’m going to fight you or anything.”

  “Why do you think I’m going to kill you?”

  I stare at him as I try to figure out his tone. He’s not asking out of curiosity, as if to ask “How did you figure out the plan?” He’s not acting surprised that I know what he’s going to do. He seems more…horrified.

  “You…you said…” I pull back from him, confused.

  “What did I say?”

  “You said you were going to ‘take care of me,’” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “At the end of the ceremony,” I say, reminding him. “After you kissed me, you said that.
”

  His eyes go wide for a moment.

  “No…I-I…” Deklan shakes his head sharply. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I’m really going to take care of you. I was…I was trying to reassure you.”

  He lets go of me for a moment and takes a step away from me. He looks at me with a furrowed brow for a long moment before he reaches over and takes one of my hands in his. He pulls me to the edge of the bed and sits me down beside him. He leans slightly, putting our heads closer to the same level.

  “I wasn’t expecting this to happen. Sean didn’t give me any kind of heads up, and I’m not any more prepared for this than you are. You might actually have the advantage—at least you knew you were going to get married. I didn’t expect this, but I’m going to do right by you.”

  I’m skeptical, to say the least. I stare into his eyes, trying to figure out if he’s telling me the truth. I have no idea. I’m not a great judge of character, and I don’t know his expressions well enough to determine if he’s lying or not.

  “I work a lot,” he says as he strokes the side of my hand with his thumb, “but I’ll be here with you whenever I can. I’ll always protect you. I’ll never fuck around on you.”

  Deklan pauses, and I realize he’s giving me his own version of marital vows. I feel my heart beating in my chest even faster as he wraps his hand around my left wrist, rubbing my skin with his thumb. My brain flickers with brief, uncertain memory. The touch feels familiar, and I realize he’s rubbing my wrist again—the same way he did before he put the ring on my finger and the same way I do when I’m anxious. I stare at his hand and feel myself relax slightly.

  “I’ve got a temper,” Deklan says. He presses his lips together for a moment before he continues. “You’re bound to see that at some point, but I’ll never lay a hand on you in anger. If you want anything—anything at all—I’ll get it for you if I can.”

  I stare at him, open-mouthed and in complete shock. He seems completely serious. There’s no reason for him to tell me any of this, not if he’s planning to kill me.

  “I’m from a traditional Catholic family,” Deklan says. “We take marriage pretty seriously. This isn’t about the piece of paper we signed—not to me. I’m serious about this, Kera.”

  “Sean didn’t tell you to kill me?” I can barely hear my own voice.

  “Jesus, no!” Deklan shakes his head rapidly. “He told me to be your husband, and that’s what I intend to be. I’d never hurt you.”

  I stare at his face, trying to find some lie in his eyes, except there’s nothing but sincerity. We are here alone. I can think of no reason to lie about killing me now. In fact, he is completely serious about being a husband to me.

  A real husband.

  What does that even mean?

  Chapter 5

  “I’m going to go get you a few things for tomorrow,” Deklan says. He stands up and goes to the dresser for his keys.

  “It’s two in the morning,” I say as I glance at the clock on the nightstand.

  “There’s a twenty-four hour place at the end of the block. They should at least have a few things you’ll need. I’ll be back soon.”

  In a flash, he’s gone from the bedroom. I hear the front door open and close again as he leaves, and I sit on the edge of the bed, alone.

  I narrow my eyes at the bedroom doorway, trying to comprehend Deklan’s words and actions, and I don’t know how I should react. Is he really going to the corner store to get me supplies, or is it a ruse? He wouldn’t take the time to set up such a ruse if he’s just going to kill me, would he?

  Maybe he wants me compliant. Maybe he wants to catch me off guard just to make it easier on him. He probably just doesn’t want me crying and whining on our wedding night. He wants me calm until he’s ready to kill me.

  But everything he said, and the way he said it, sounded completely true. He has no reason to lie to me at this point, and going out to buy stuff would be a total waste of time and effort. Money, too. Based on the sparse nature of his apartment, Deklan obviously doesn’t live like the Foleys do.

  He’s not going to kill me.

  I let the thought sink in for a moment as I rub at my left wrist. I remember his fingers there, rubbing my skin in the same circular motion. Just the thought of his hand on me brings a moment of peace deep inside of me.

  Why did he do that? Is he so observant that he remembered me rubbing my wrist yesterday when Sean was announcing the change of plans? Does he realize that sort of touch calms me?

  I wrap my arms around myself and try to rethink everything I assumed since the moment Deklan kissed me in front of the justice of the peace. If half of what he told me is true, maybe this will work out better than I expected.

  I’m still lost in thought when Deklan returns with a plastic shopping bag. I take the bag and look through it. He’s done a decent job of finding me the necessities though the only clothing is a three-pack of store-brand, bikini underwear and a pair of white socks. At least I will finally get to brush my teeth.

  “Sorry I couldn’t get any real clothes,” Deklan says. “We can go get your things later or even go shopping if you want.”

  I stare at him as my mind plays with the idea of Deklan taking me to a mall and buying me clothing and makeup. The image of him holding up dresses for me to try on doesn’t suit him. Maybe he’d wait outside the dressing room, guarding me with his watchful eyes.

  “Why are you doing this?” I can’t quite swallow past the lump in my throat.

  “Doing what?”

  “Getting this stuff. Talking about shopping. Being nice to me.”

  Deklan takes a half step backward and stares at me.

  “You said you needed that stuff.”

  I stare back at him. He looks genuinely confused, and his expression mirrors my own. Everything that has happened over the last day is just too much, and the pressure behind my eyes is threatening to give way.

  “Kera, what is it?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “Sorry, I’m just a little tired.”

  I take the plastic bag from the corner store and return to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The simple act calms me slightly. I check myself in the mirror one last time before returning to the bedroom.

  Deklan is standing near the dresser. His feet are bare, and his dress shirt is draped over a chair along with his belt. I can see the sharp outline of his back muscles through his white T-shirt. He looks me over as I enter the room. His eyes darken, and he quickly wets his lips.

  “Maybe you should just go to bed.”

  I glance over at the monstrosity covered in pillows and blankets. If I were to get into it now, which side would I be on?

  “I mean to sleep,” Deklan says, clarifying. “You said you were tired. I could even stay on the couch if you want.”

  “No.” There’s no point in prolonging this any longer. “This is our wedding night, after all.”

  Our wedding night.

  I swallow hard.

  “We don’t have to, Kera. Not unless you’re ready.”

  “You said you were Catholic.”

  “I am.”

  “Well, marriage doesn’t even count until...until it’s consummated.”

  “I’m Catholic,” Deklan says, “not living in the fourteenth century.”

  “It still doesn’t count,” I say again. “The marriage can still be annulled. I bet Sean will ask, too. Would you lie to him?”

  “No.” Deklan shakes his head slowly. “My loyalty is with the Foley family. I would not lie to him or go against him in any way.”

  “Then we should do this.”

  “I can refrain from answering for a while,” Deklan says. “I don’t have to lie to him to protect you. I could just keep my phone off. Problem solved.”

  “I wouldn’t want to put you in that position.”

  He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. His gaze drops for a second as he takes in the sheer white lingerie I’m wearing. My skin tingles and a shiver runs down my spine.
No one has ever looked at me in such a way, and I can only assume the look on his face is pure lust. He quickly looks back to my eyes.

  “Are you sure,” he asks, “or are you still worrying that Sean will find out?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He looks at me doubtfully. He clenches his fingers slightly, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he imagining his hands on me? Is he thinking about laying me down on that gigantic bed and making me his wife in that final, undeniable way? The image runs through my head, and my thighs clench.

  Deklan presses his lips together and starts to shake his head. He’s going to refuse, and I suddenly don’t want that to happen.

  “Really,” I say quickly, hoping to sound more convincing, “I’m sure. Please. I…I want to.”

  Deklan glances away and closes his eyes for a moment. His body goes tense. I don’t understand his frustrated look.

  “Come here,” he says softly as he reaches toward me.

  He takes my hand and leads me over to the bed. We both sit at the end, and he turns to look at me. I can’t meet his eyes, so I look at my hands instead. He won’t have any of that, though. He places his hand under my chin and turns me to look at him.

  “You know what I am…what I do.” It’s a statement, not a question. I don’t know the specifics of the job, but the image of Deklan holding a gun to my father’s head flashes through my mind. I nod quickly, and Deklan’s eyes soften slightly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  Deklan stares into my eyes with intensity, his pupils dilated. I have no idea how to respond to his statement; I don’t even know what he means. He won’t hurt me right this second? He won’t hurt me when he fucks me? Or does he actually mean he’s going to be merciful and wait to kill me in my sleep so I won’t feel anything?

  “I know you’re scared,” he says.

  “I’m not.” I don’t even sound convincing to myself.

  “I know you are,” he says again. He releases my chin and sighs. “You have every right to be scared. This whole situation is…is…fucked up.”

  I can’t argue with the sentiment.

  “But I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I nod though I’m still not sure I believe it. Deklan looks back at me.