Page 39 of Declan

“That’s none of your business.”

Declan glanced over at me, then his eyes went back to the road. It was a split-second perusal but I knew he saw too much. We were too much alike. Something I both loved and despised.

“Right,” he mumbled, sounding infinitely annoyed.

“Why don’t you get out?” I inquired, turning the tables.

“Never said I was tired of it.”

“Right,” I repeated. But instead of annoyed, I made sure he couldn’t miss my mocking tone.

Well, that shut him up.

As the minutes passed and Declan said nothing, my muscles relaxed, my guard started to lower, and I suddenly wanted to tell him why I didn’t walk away. Why I didn’t find some small town in the middle of nowhere and try my hand at being normal. That was, if I could figure out how regular people lived. But as much as I wanted to confess to the one person on earth who would understand, I couldn’t.

Telling him would be too personal, it would make me sound weak.

So I kept my thoughts to myself and so did he. It was better that way. We’d shared too much as it was.

Yeah, idiot, keep telling yourself that.

Chapter 14

Never in my life had I wanted to pound the sass out of a woman. And not with my fists, with my cock. I wanted to fuck the living hell out of Autumn until that attitude fell away. Until the walls she lived behind were obliterated and she couldn’t rebuild. I had no right to feel this way, her secrets were hers the way mine were mine.

But in the hours since she’d shut me out I couldn’t stop myself from stewing. There were so many times I had to stop myself from demanding an answer. I wanted to know why she didn’t walk away after she admitted she was tired of living the type of life we led.

I was desperate to know if her reasons were similar to mine. God knows I wanted nothing more than to go somewhere and retire. A small town where nothing happened, no one knew me or knew my past. There was an expiration date for men like me, and every passing month, I felt mine coming closer. There was only so much a body could handle—physical injuries, near-death experiences—before you were done.

However, I kept quiet and so had she.

The only words that we’d spoken were to the team as we moved into place.

Night had fallen and Autumn and I were making the half-mile walk to the compound Strotherby had locked herself in. The small town was rundown, the house was no better. A far cry from her penthouse in Manhattan, her summer home in Italy, or the countless other multi-million dollar properties she owned. Somehow, it was fitting that Madeleine Strotherby would draw her last breath in a filthy house, in a crumbling town, in a war-torn country, after the hell she’d caused. The misery and despair. All the lives she’d ruined.

Yeah, it was fitting the reigning queen of depravity would die in that shithole of a house.

Autumn’s jerky movements caught my attention and I glanced to the side, taking her in. Black Salomon boots, black 5-11 tactical pants, long-sleeved black shirt, bulletproof vest, holstered sidearm, AR on a sling but pulled in front of her. Her hair was tucked under a baseball cap, and if it wasn’t for her slight size, you wouldn’t know she was a woman.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? You—”

“I stumbled on a pothole,” she huffed then snapped straight.

Jesus, what did she think I was going to do, berate her for tripping? It was pitch black and walking with night vision sucked. You had no field of view.

Had I been that big of an asshole to her?

Yes, yes, I had.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I was a dick earlier—”

“Don’t. Let’s get this done.”

“Autumn,” I sighed.