“I don’t care if you accidentally offend my third cousin seven times removed, who I didn’t even know existed, I will take it personally,” Declan warns, leaning in close so Warren has nochoice but to hold his gaze. “And make no mistake about me. I could take a slime ball like you apart with my bare hands and sleep like a damn baby.”
A chill runs down my spine at his words, and it’s not like I’m at all new to the darker side of Declan. I know firsthand how few qualms Declan has when it comes to fucking around.
Declan’s lips curve up, but there’s no humor in his expression. “And before you start getting any snake in the grass type of ideas, if something happened to me, my people wouldn’t just kill you. Do you understand what I mean by that?”
Warren nods again. “Yes.”
“Get the fuck out of here, then.”
Warren doesn’t need further instruction; he scurries around Declan, not giving me a backward glance as he disappears into the shadows, his retreating footfalls heavy as he books it to the exit. The heavy door opens, then closes, leaving the room in silence.
Declan turns back to me, his typical affable Declan expression on his face as he says, “I think I would’ve been good at hockey.”
Frowning, I shake my head, a rough burst of laughter escaping in response to his random segue. “And take the chance of ruining your pretty face?”
He scowls slightly then retorts, “Good point.”
Stooping over, I grab my boots and socks, moving to the bench as I say flatly, “Thanks for saving my ass.”
“My pleasure.”
I side eye his odd response then go back to tying my boot as I say, “I guess this means we’re even.”
“Nah, I don’t think he would’ve killed you.”
I laugh. “Maybe not, but I don’t think I’d enjoy being cut up either.”
“Superficial at most. Not even remotely close to what you did for me back in LA.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I scoff, still not convinced I saved his life as he has claimed over the years. I finish dressing my feet then stand, rushing to my locker and stuffing my gear into my duffel bag. Turning, I stop short as I find Declan right there, in my way. I eye him questioningly, and finally he says, “Yes, you fucking did.”
“Whatever, man,” I respond tiredly, knowing there is no amount of debate that will change his mind.
“And just so you know,” Declan adds, his gaze serious. “We will never be even. I will owe you until the day I take my last breath regardless of if I’ve never had to help you or if I’ve helped you a million times over.”
“Dude, that’s not how IOUs work.”
“Maybe not,” he retorts. “But that’s what we do for our brothers.”
Brothers.
Declan doesn’t give me time to respond, instead stepping into me and wrapping his arms around me. He squeezes with purpose, obviously intent on getting a hug one way or another, so, give him a few slaps on the back until he finally steps back.
I clear my throat a few times, the stress of my day plus Declan’s brother declaration finally catching up to me. Not wanting to have a boohoo bromance at this point, I push the feeling down then laugh at myself because Declan has not even one negative thing to say about tears.
Hefting my larger bag over my shoulder, I reach for the other, but Declan grabs it, hanging it over his own shoulder as we walk toward the exit. Declan opens the door, steps back for me to precede him
Stopping just in the doorway, I turn back to him, wait for him to meet my gaze before I whisper, “Thanks,” as I blink away that annoyingly familiar sting behind my eyes. “Brother.”
Declan grins his most megawatt rock star grin, his eyes glowing as he recognizes what it took for me to say something that may seem simple to most people. He nods. Slaps me on the shoulder.
Then we walk out, together.
19
A FEARFUL REACTION
REN
