Decker Page 5
I clench my jaw, unsure and a little disturbed at how my brother could’ve thought about strategy while bullets were flying and people were screaming. “He’s been good to me, Cole.”
“Good or cunning? Don’t be naive, sis. You know he can’t be trusted.”
The intensity in his voice puts me on edge. “Am I in danger?”
“From him? No. I wouldn’t have sent you with him if I thought he was capable of hurting you. But is he capable of hurting this family? I’m not sure. He’s yet to prove his worth. And until he does, his intent will remain questionable.”
“What do you expect me to do?” I ask.
“Nothing. Not yet. Just remain open to testing him if you get the chance.”
“Testing him?” I hiss under my breath. “He’s supposed to be on our side.”
“What’s supposed to be and what usually happens are two different things. You know we’re both paranoid for good reason.”
He’s right, even though judging Decker as the enemy feels entirely wrong.
“Be smart, Keira. Be safe, too.”
I nod. “I will.”
I’m not going to plead Decker’s case. Not yet. I’ll take more time to come to my own conclusion first. To cement my assumptions. “Do you have any news on who’s responsible for tonight?”
“There’s nothing to go on. Not yet. But I’ll find out sooner or later.”
Nausea swirls in my belly. The slightest tremble works its way into my hands. Knowledge isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes ignorance is most certainly bliss. Especially when knee-jerk, death-causing reactions are likely. “Don’t do anything rash, okay?” I beg. “You, more than anyone, need to keep a level head.”
“You know me, Kee, I’m nothing if not level.”
His sarcasm is scary. I’d laugh if I didn’t want to crumple.
“Look, I’ve gotta go.” His tone turns dismissive. “It’s not a great time to talk. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
There’s a pause, and for a moment I think he’s already disconnected. “Cole?”
“Yeah?”
I swallow over my drying throat. “How’s Layla?”
“She’s fine.” His response is instant. Without thought. “She got out before you did.”
My brows rise at the placating lie.
“Right…” I suck in a calming breath and let it out slowly. “Well, can you let her know I lost my phone in the restaurant? I have to use Decker’s, and she’s not answering my calls.”
“She’s probably screening and doesn’t recognize the number. I’ll pass on the message.”
Liar. Liar. Liar.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll speak to you soon, Kee. Make sure you lay low until I call.”
“I will.” I hang up and stare out the window at the far end of the hall.
Cole is playing a dangerous game by distorting the truth in an attempt to keep me calm. All our enemies need is a weak spot. Just one. That’s it. Then, bam, we’re vulnerable.
But I get why he lied. We all have secrets. Some are made to protect those we love.
He thinks he’s doing the right thing.
He doesn’t want me to worry. And yet the intent has had the opposite effect.
I’m concerned as hell. About being alone with Decker. About my mental stability. About Cole reacting without thought when he finds out who’s responsible for the drive-by.
I can’t hold tight to the strength I usually cling to. Adrenaline has zapped my common sense.
Come on, Keira. Pull yourself together.
I tread lightly down the hall and pause in the shadows. Decker is still in the kitchen, now eating from a can of corn with a spoon. He isn’t doing anything sneaky or covert. He’s relaxed, his jacket gaping to expose his inked chest, his dark hair mussed and falling around his forehead. There isn’t a glimmer of deception ebbing from him, but I know there shouldn’t be if he’s an accomplished manipulator.
Deceit is rarely obvious.
I inch into the living room, my gaze never leaving him as I stop a few feet away from the kitchen counter. “That looks appetizing.”
His lips kick, his face the very definition of cocky arrogance.
“I was talking about the corn,” I clarify.
“Sure you were.” He tilts the can in my direction. “Want some? We don’t have a lot of options where food is concerned.”
“No, thanks. I don’t think my stomach could handle it at the moment.”
He shoves another spoonful into his mouth, his chiseled jaw working overtime. “How’s your brother?”
I shrug. “He’s the same ol’ Cole. Nothing changes.”
He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “Something’s wrong.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement that catches me off guard. He can already sense my mood, can already decipher my expression. The realization fills me with apprehension and appreciation in equal measure.
“No. Not upset,” I lie, indicating my face with a swirl of a finger. “This is a look of annoyance. He lied to me again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I should be used to it by now, right? To be honest, I’m surprised it still bothers me.”
He throws up a hand in a what-are-you-gonna-do gesture. “You’ve had a long day. Maybe you should get some rest.”
“Yeah. That’s the plan.” After getting off the phone, I’ve gained a few new layers to my exhaustion. Only I’m finding it hard to walk away. Maybe I should test him. Not to claim answers to Cole’s doubt, but to prove my instincts about Decker are right. “Will you be okay finding a room of your own?”
He spoons a few more kernels of corn into his mouth. “I’ll crash on the sofa if I have to.”
“If you have to? You don’t plan on sleeping?”
“I might doze a bit.”
“Why? We’re safe here, aren’t we?”
“Yes, of course.” He pulls out the garbage drawer and throws the can into the trash. “I’m only being cautious.”
I don’t want to believe him. I can’t. One, because trust is a personality trait I rarely indulge in. And two, because the thought of him giving up sleep for me makes my stomach twist in knots.
“Keira, if there was something to worry about, I’d tell you.” He leans forward, arms spread along the counter, gaze intent. “Go. Get some rest. We can figure out our next move in the morning.”
I nod.
Despite Cole’s warning, I do agree Decker is no threat to me personally. I can’t picture this man hurting me. I can’t see it at all. And I’m more than aware betrayal can come from a friendly face. “Good night, Decker.”
“Night, kitten.”
I drag my feet down the hall, while my thoughts stay with him in the kitchen. I don’t want to be alone, and it’s not because of his flirtation and dripping innuendo. I crave the truth. I need answers. I want them so much my neck prickles with anticipation.
I reluctantly close myself into the master bedroom and stare at the door handle for long heartbeats. I should lock it, even though I’m not scared of the gorgeous thug protecting me. It’s the smart thing to do if I plan on getting even a lick of sleep…which isn’t highly likely anyway.
I gently flick the lock, hoping the sound doesn’t resonate down the hall, then do a visual sweep of every inch of the room before turning off the light and climbing into bed. I lie on my side, his shirt bunched at my shoulders, my nose nestled against the material.
His scent fills my lungs, and I struggle to recount a moment with him that could’ve held questionable intent.
He’s proven himself to me tonight. He showed his loyalty by shielding my body with his own, and in every other action afterward.
But then again, he had proven himself to me all those months ago when he confronted Cole. My brother’s hand had been wrapped around my neck, the squeeze light despite the rage in his eyes.
With one sentence, Decker stood up for me. He showed sincerity and promise.
Cole would’ve
seen it as defiance. Not me, though. I appreciated the honor. The morals.
The outburst doesn’t mean he’s worthy of trust. But leniency? Yes.
He deserves to be given a chance.
I try to build on my convincing argument, tossing and turning for hours as I analyze every moment I’ve spent with Decker—the playfulness, the protection, the lingering lust he keeps tightly leashed.
And he told me the truth about Layla’s injuries. That, by far, is the attribute I cling to for dear life.
But it could be a game. I know better than anyone that deception comes from those you least expect. I seriously can’t let down my guard. No matter how much I want to.
Each minute that ticks by brings more madness to my exhaustion. I start to lose grip on my thoughts, and waking nightmares hover close.
The flashback of shattering glass enters my mind. The rapid gunfire. The screams. The panic.
I try to douse the flames with the memory of Decker’s hard body atop mine. The frantic way he pulled over on the highway. The gentle hands that dried me after the shower.
Don’t be naive, sis. You know he can’t be trusted. My brother’s words haunt me.
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about without adding mixed feelings about Decker to the list.
I throw back the covers and slide from bed.
I stalk from the room, my feet slapping against the hall tiles as my pulse pounds in my throat. The house is bathed in shadow, the glow from the muted television the only illumination as I enter the living room.
I stop at the foot of the sofa, staring down at his sprawled body, his chest bare, his arm slung over his face, covering his eyes. He’s peaceful, and trustworthy or not, he’s truly magnificent to look at. For long minutes I peer down at him, stalker like and entirely unapologetic.
The woman tattooed on his bicep stares up at me, her beauty ethereal and haunting as a tear streaks down her cheek.
“Can I help you?” he mumbles.
My heart shoots to my throat at the sudden break in silence. “Christ. I didn’t realize you were awake.”
“I figured.” His arm falls to his side as he blinks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
I try to come up with the perfect response. One that seems entirely out of my comprehension the longer those midnight eyes take me in. “My brother doesn’t trust you.”
“You got out of bed to tell me that?” He frowns and sits up, leaning back against the armrest. “It’s not really a secret, sunshine.”
“You already know?”
“Of course I do.” He pauses to ponder me for a moment, his brows knit tight. “Did he tell you that, or did you work it out on your own?”
“Does it matter?”
Slowly, he stands and moves toward me, his height becoming so much larger than it ever has been before. All that bare skin. All that hard muscle. All that delicious ink.
“Yeah, it does. I don’t think it’s a smart move to tell a woman her safety has been placed in the hands of someone she can’t trust.”
I swallow over the dryness in my throat, not wanting to admit how right he is.
“But he did tell you.” His eyes narrow. “Is that why you were upset after you got off the phone?”
I lick my lips, struggling to combat the sudden detox of moisture. My throat is dry, my tongue and mouth, too.
“You have nothing to worry about, Keira. Despite your brother’s opinion, I would never hurt you.”
A bark of derision leaves my mouth. It’s forced. Another act. I need to pretend I’m highly cautious even though my intuition wants to wave green flags like it’s Saint Paddy’s day.
I do believe he would never hurt me.
I do trust he has my best interest at heart. How can I not after he shielded me against bullets with his own damn body?
“If you’re scared of me, I can take you to someone else.” His expression is pained as he speaks. “I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.” He bends down and retrieves his jacket from the floor. “Just tell me where we’re headed.”
He’s truly ready to leave.
“I don’t need to go anywhere,” I admit.
He eyes me with trepidation. “Are you sure?”
I swallow, lick my lower lip, and fight to keep in control. “Why doesn’t he trust you?”
“Because my loyalty has always been to Hunter first and foremost. It always will be. Cole doesn’t appreciate the defiance.”
No, my brother wouldn’t. He expects fealty, a blood oath, and your firstborn… Or something along those lines.
“Is that all?” I can’t tear my gaze away, too eager to decipher every change in him. “There has to be more to it than that.”
“I’m sure there’s a million reasons.” He shrugs. “But while he’s paying me, I don’t give a fuck about a single one.”
His sterility isn’t appreciated. I guess I’m like Cole in that regard. I want loyalty. Devotion. I need more than callous disregard when it comes to my family. “I understand.”
“I’m not after your understanding, Keira. I want your trust. After everything we’ve been through tonight, don’t I deserve that?”
“Trust is difficult.”
He gives a half-hearted smile. “I guess it takes more than putting my life on the line to make you happy.” He throws my callousness at me with such softly spoken words.
I don’t like the accusation. I don’t appreciate how empty it makes me feel.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper.
“Try me.”
I measure my breathing, not succumbing to the need to suck in deep lungfuls of air. “Trust brings vulnerability. And I’m not allowed to be vulnerable.”
“You’re allowed to be whatever the hell you want. You’re your own person. Don’t ever forget that.”
“No. I’m not. I can’t be vulnerable or weak or scared.”
He scoffs. “You are scared.”
“No—”
“Yeah, you are.” He cuts me off. “You’re strong and stubborn and smart. But you’re still fucking scared, and that’s okay. You’d be stupid if you weren’t.”
I stare at him, drowning in the solemn sincerity in his expression. I want to believe his kindness. I’m dying to. “Cole is never scared.”
“Cole is a psychopath. You’re comparing apples to oranges.”
I laugh despite the seriousness in his voice. “He’s not psychotic. He’s just…”
“Fucking crazy?” He approaches a step. “A narcissist?” The nearness increases. “Stop me if you want. I could go on for hours.”
My smile lessens, the relief he’s given me dying under the heavy thoughts of my brother. “You shouldn’t joke about him like that. If he heard…”
“It isn’t anything I wouldn’t say to his face.” He shrugs. “I work for him, and he has my loyalty. But that doesn’t mean he gets my respect.”
The brutal honesty surprises me. It also fills me with concern. “You disapprove of the way he does business?”
“It has nothing to do with business.”
“Then what is it?”
He holds my gaze, his expression growing tight.
“Tell me.” I inch closer, the sides of our feet brushing.
“That’s a conversation for another day. You need to get some rest.”
No. I’m finally getting somewhere. I can’t stop now. “Please.”
His jaw ticks. His eyes harden. “He laid hands on you. I could never respect a man who does that.”
I stare blankly, entirely overwhelmed by his vehement response.
There’s not merely a lack of respect between my brother and this man. There’s more. So much more. And if I can believe his fierce conviction, it has nothing to do with my family’s criminal activities and everything to do with his concern for me.
Guilt mixes with my turbulent emotions.
I’m the reason Cole doesn’t trust him.
I’m the one who has put a target on Decker’s back.
I sigh and follow after him. “I don’t want alcohol. Coffee, on the other hand…”
“That’s not going to happen.” He pulls open a cupboard above the counter and retrieves a scotch glass. “Caffeine is a bad idea when the aim is sleep.”
“Well, what I need and what I’m capable of are two different things.”
He moves to another cupboard, this one lined with bottles of all shapes and sizes—rum, tequila, gin.
He pulls out a vodka bottle, cracks the lid, and pours a shocking amount into the glass.
“I hope that’s not for me.” I remain on the other side of the counter.
“For relaxation purposes.” He shuts the cupboard then turns to me, the bottle in one hand, the glass in the other.
“Are you going to have one with me?”
He gives a subtle shake of his head. “I can’t.”
“Because you’re babysitting?”
“No, because I don’t want you to take advantage of me.”
I roll my eyes. “But you’ve poured enough to take down a wild beast.”
He smirks, the expression hitting me hard as the glass is pushed toward me. “Well, sometimes you act like one.”
I scowl, even though it’s hard to fight a smile when he’s looking at me like that, all self-assured with mussed hair and sleepy eyes.
“When have you ever seen me in beast mode?” I mutter.
“Have you already forgotten the first night we met?” He quirks a brow. “You were as wild as it gets. I didn’t know if you were going to get out of your sister’s house alive.”
The memory steals the tweak from my lips. My actions haunt me. “I never thanked you for standing up for me.”
“I didn’t expect you to. Any self-respecting man would’ve done the same thing.”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
The truth is, no matter how many times my family’s employees have seen Cole and me fight, nobody has ever stepped in. Not once. Not even slightly. Not until Decker.
I raise the glass and throw back a dangerous amount of vodka. The liquid burns my throat and nose, making me cough. I expect him to laugh at me. I anticipate the superior smirk to have curved those gorgeous lips.