When we had talked about it, Declan said, “I think it’s time to move on from the condo I shared with Hendrix. When I’m in not with you, I just feel lost and stuck. A change of scenery would help.”
We took a few days to finish cleaning out Hendrix’s room, donating items that Declan set aside and boxing up anything he wanted to keep.
Once we were finished and Declan mourned the final chapter of his friend’s death, we packed his items and moved him in with me.
It’s been working out pretty well. Declan and I moved up to the second floor on the opposite wing of Carter and Kai, while Manuel moved into my old room.
After it was all said and done, Manuel is the best person to take the job after Hendrix. Declan said he always got along with him, which was a surprise because he didn’t initially like any St. Clair men, me included. But he said he liked Manuel right off, his no nonsense attitude when it came to the St. Clairs, then the Whitlocks endeared him to the bigger man. He also liked how he handled shit at The Fox Club, keeping the kill room clean and making sure none of the prisoners that were brought down could escape. He was the ideal man to keep up with someone as picky about his guard as Declan.
Declan also didn’t know who to trust, since he was considering hiring Austin and Donny before he found out who they really were. Since both Kai and I could vouch for Manuel, it was an easy choice.
Since we’re probably going to be late to our own wedding, we shower quickly, only trading a kiss here or there while we clean up.
When we’re done, we get out and move to our sinks to brush our teeth and fix ourselves up.
Declan squirts toothpaste on his toothbrush, then bareshis teeth at the mirror. “That dentist was worth every fucking penny.”
A few weeks after we dumped Austin and Hugo overboard, Declan saw the best prosthodontist in the state to repair his front tooth and give him an implant for the missing molar. I told him every day he looked good either way, but he was unhappy with his smile and there’s nothing I won’t do to guarantee his happiness. It looks as if the torture never happened, which is going a long way for his mental health after his ordeal.
I hum and kiss him on the cheek, leaving behind toothpaste. “The best.”
“You’re annoying,” he grumbles as he wipes the mess from his face. “Remind me why I’m marrying you again?”
“Because it was love at first sight and you couldn’t stay away.”
“Annoying and arrogant. There’s only room for one arrogant person in this marriage.”
I pout. “You can share.”
He picks up my brush from the sink and stands behind me. He brushes my waves, making sure they lay how I want them to. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You’re a child.”
He meets my eyes in the mirror. “You want to have any?”
“Children?” He dips in chin. “Never thought about it. This ain’t the best life to raise kids in. But I wouldn’t mind a crumb snatcher or two. You?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure I’d be a good dad.”
“We’ll see when Carter and Kai get the twins. You can figure out if you want to be the fun uncle or give them some cousins.”
He hums with a soft smile on his face and finishes brushing my hair. Once he’s done, I do the same for him,pushing the blond waves back from his forehead so I can see his entire face.
The scar from the blow to his head is barely noticeable, and most of the others they left on him have faded just as much. He’s healing so well, and I’m glad I can be here to help him.
He still can’t feel anything below the bone in his thumb to a little past his wrists. The doctor said feeling may return in the coming months or years, but it’s not definite.
Declan says he doesn’t care about that, as long as he can still use both hands to shoot if he needs to.
Over the course of these few months, he and Carter have been going to the range, and he’s learned to shoot pretty well with his middle finger on his left hand. He said it’s awkward to hold a gun with a missing digit, but he’s continuing to work at it.
I’m really proud of how far he’s come in his recovery, both physically and mentally. Some nights, he wakes up in a cold sweat, and he tells me what’s bothering him. It’s a far cry from when we first started fucking and I had to pull information out of him. I love that he trusts me so much to be vulnerable. I try my best to talk him through it or simply listen when he needs me to.
When his hair is laying how he likes it, I turn him around and frame his face. “Perfect.”
He smiles widely at me, his eyes dancing with joy. “Let’s get married.”
Declanand I sway side to side as the music fills the room. I smile as I look at my hand, the black titanium band flashing in the light.
