With no phone, I had no clue. All my meager belongings were at the hostel. Had anyone noticed my absence? Probably not, but I didn't like the idea of strangers rooting through my bag once they did. There wasn't much in there, but losing my passport would make life difficult.
Declan paced up and down while talking on his phone when I finally walked into the living area.
"I'm here on business, darling." Judging by his use of the worddarling, it had to be Bridget. My teeth ground so aggressively it was a wonder I had any left.
"A very last-minute trip, yes." From the tension in his jaw, this was not a fun conversation. The last few times I'd seen Bridget with him, he seemed irritated rather than loved up. It had been clear not all was well between them.
I couldn't stop the surge of hopeful delight at the thought he might not be madly in love with Bridget before guilt stabbed me in the gut. Just because my love life was dead in the water didn't mean I had the right to wish the same on Declan.
"I'm sorry I can't be there, darling," he told her, although he didn'tsoundsorry. Not that I was an expert on men. The ones I'd had the misfortune to know had all been experts at gaslightingme.
Speaking of gaslighting assholes… I wondered whether Ronan's Insta babe was in his bed right now, enjoying his talented tongue and…
The moment I pictured him with a sexy woman, bile crept up my throat. Conal had probably moved on, too. It had been nothing but a fling to them. A temporary diversion.
"Bridget, this is work. I have no fucking idea when I'll be back, so I suggest you find someone else to go with." Declan’s snappish tone indicated he'd lost patience with her.
There was another long pause while he listened and clenched his fist in annoyance. I felt bad for eavesdropping on a private conversation, but also gleeful knowing he wasn't desperate to see her again.
"Take Greg. I honestly don't give a fuck, Bridget."
I winced on her behalf. The dismissal in his voice was clear as day, even to me, and I was terrible at reading men. Was their relationship more fucked than I realized? I tried not to be deliriously happy about that. Breakups were painful. And besides, there were probably dozens more gorgeous women waiting in the wings to step into Bridget’s shoes.
Declan ended the call and looked up when he saw me watching from the doorway.
"Is everything OK?" It wasn't really my place to ask but I figured I should acknowledge the fact I'd heard everything.
"Fine," he snapped before dropping his phone on the sofa. "Have you decided what you want to eat?"
OK, then. He didn't want to talk about it.Whatever.
I pushed away my plate, unable to eat another mouthful, even though the thick fluffy pancakes smothered in maple syrup had been the most delicious thing I'd eaten in months. Possibly years.
Declan sat at the far end of the sofa, his plate long-since empty, staring at his phone again. There was no sign of his two men, Connor and Ash. I assumed one of them was outside in the hallway and the other sleeping.
"I ordered some fruit and pastries, too," Declan said without looking up.
I stifled a groan. "Sorry, I'm full." Too full. So full my stomach hurt.
He half-turned, fixing me with a hard stare. "You've lost weight. Eat something else. I don't need any shit from your sister about not taking care of you properly."
"Jesus, I'm an adult, not a kid! If I say I'm full, I'm full!" His expression turned glacial and the atmosphere in the room dropped by at least ten degrees. I shivered.
"Responsible adultsdon't make dumb decisions like leaving a place that's safe.Responsible adultsdon't walk into a club full of people traffickers and need rescuing."
"How was I supposed to know the club was dangerous?! I needed a job, and they were hiring!" It pissed me off that he and every other person in my sad fucking life treated me like a kid.
From the faint look of surprise on Declan's face, he hadn't expected me to push back. Well, that made two of us.
"For fuck’s sake, Verity! You've grown up in this life. How could you not see the dangers?" He raked his fingers through his already messy hair, the frustration coming off him in waves. "I told you not to leave the estate! You were lucky not to end up in the hands of your fucking father, who is apparently working with Avram Marku from what Milo tells me! If he'd taken you, fuck knows what would have happened."
The pancakes in my stomach turned into hard, indigestible lumps. Declan was right. I'd been a stupid fool. Without even trying, I'd walked right into the middle of my father's web and nearly ended up caught like a pathetic little fruit fly.
"I'm sorry for being so stupid," I mumbled, staring at a brown spot on the cream carpet. Stupid was my middle name. No wonder my sister wanted me back in the States. At least thereshe had five husbands on standby to make sure I didn't get myself into yet more trouble.
When I looked up, Declan threw me a look that told me he'd had enough of me and my bullshit. "I get why you felt like you wanted your freedom, but running away from shit is not the answer." A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over me at the unspoken reference to my ill-fated fling with his brothers.
"I wasn't running away," I said while sliding off the couch. The best place for me was back in the bedroom, where I could crawl under the covers while the storm raged around us. Once the storm passed, both of us would hopefully have forgotten this awkward conversation.
