Page 33 of Trouble
You’re different.
How and why? And what does it mean that I’m asking these questions of him, the best friend of the man I’m sleeping with?
It’s a bizarre conundrum. One I’d rather focus on than the very real disaster that happened last night. Though from what I know of Declan, he will only let me live in this land of denial for so long.
“Would you want to go into town with me?”
The question is so surprising, I actually sit up, escaping his hold.
He clearly takes my reaction as a negative one, splaying both hands in the air in front of him. “Or not. I could drop you off at Lake’s while I runerrands.”
With a long exhale, I lean into him. “I was just surprised, is all. I’d love to go to town.”
Declan blushes. The grown man who speaks almost exclusively in gruntsturns pink. “It’s nothing great. I told Shawn that I’d try to bring you by the bakery since Jules has been dying to meet you. Then I need to stop at the station to check in with the guys. Normally I’d be working tonight, but they can handle it without me.”
With a mixture of gratitude and guilt swirling inside me, I squeeze his bicep. “It sounds perfect. But if you have to work, that’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can hang out here alone.”
Declan’s no is immediate. “I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”
Heart lifting, I smile. “Thank you. Can I have my coffee now?”
As promised, our first stop is Jules’ Bakery. If I wasn’t already smitten with this town, this magical heaven would have sealed the deal. From the pink walls to the checkered floor to the adorable donut signs—my favorites beingDonut worry, be happyandDonut stop believing—I adore every inch of this space.
And don’t get me started on the actual donuts. Declan informed me that this is where he got the donuts the first morning after I came. Naturally, I giggled and asked if there was a plural version of the wordcame, because Cade made it happen multiple times. Declan blushed again, and I swear my damn heart floated in my chest.
After I discovered that Jules’s blueberry donuts are what made her famous, there was no question about which kind I’d order. As I devour it—I can see why she’s known for the recipe; it’s incredible—I can’t help but feel Declan’s heavy stare.
“So,” he hedges. “We need to talk about last night.”
“Not supposed to talk with food in my mouth.” With a grin, I take a giant bite.
The glower he directs at me is oddly comforting.
“There’s video,” he says evenly.
A phantom pain, the sensation of Jason’s fingers digging into my arm, flashes in my mind. The way he slammed me against the wall grips me, and my heart drops when I remember the slap. From that moment on, the encounter is a blur. The marks I found on my body this morning when I got out of the shower are evidence enough of what happened, but video? I shudder at the thought of ever seeing it.
Cold dread seizes me then, at the memory of how Declan slammed Jason against the wall. How he held him up by his neck so his toes dangled off the floor and the color drained from his face.
“No,” I say resolutely.
Frowning, Declan ducks down and catches my gaze. “No what?”
“If there’s video of what he did, there’s video of what you did,” I whisper, scanning the small shop to make sure no one is watching us.
“Is this the first time he’s hurt you?”
My stomach sinks at the question. At his knowing expression.
“You’re hiding here for a reason. He’s obviously part of it, but is there more?”
Lips pressed together tightly, I shake my head. I’m not doing this now. Not here. Maybe not ever.
How do I explain that I told people I thought would support me, help me? That I told my family, and they didn’t believe me?That he was my agent, so it wasn’t as easy as just walking away? It all seems absurd now. Excuses I made so that I didn’t have to make a difficult decision. Though eventually I did when I turned to Ford and asked for help.
Declan covers my hand with his, his palm warm and rough. It’s then I realize my hands are trembling. “There is video. He can’t lie about what happened. There is no other version of the truth.”
“But you?—”