“I don’t know,” Darci said in a hoarse croak, “but they want ten thousand dollars by midnight.”
He stilled.
Her heart tripped. “Dec, who are they?”
Tired green eyes met hers. He tunneled his fingers through disheveled brown hair. “Dan made a bet on some damn fight. They want the money now.”
“What are you going to do?” Her brother didn’t have that kind of cash lying around, not with Grace’s escalating medical bills.
“Don’t worry, it will be all right.” Shoulders slumped, he trudged into the kitchen.
Sure, it would. Those fiends would come after her family. Hurt her brother, Daniel…even Grace. That feeling of hopelessness descended. God, she couldn’t bear this, not again. She grabbed her tote from the couch, pulled out her checkbook, and wrote in all of her savings: $6500,00.
She walked into the kitchen. Declan looked up from opening the tea canister. “Here,” she set the check on the pine table, “I can’t cover it all. I’ll give you the rest at the end of the month.” The library still owed her her last paycheck.
Declan’s gaze lowered to the slip of paper, his expression hardened. “No. I’ll handle this.”
“How? By letting them break your legs? Oh, wait; let them go after Daniel and Grace. Darn it, Dec, just take it and pay off those people.”
He pulled out a chamomile teabag from the container and dropped it into a mug. “I won’t take your money.”
Christ. Declan was so damn stubborn. She bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t start an argument, it would only upset Grace. “Let me do that. Go, have your shower.”
After he’d left, she prepared the tray. Hopefully, the quiet time would knock some sense into his rock-hard head and he’d be more prepared to see reason.
Darci carried the tray upstairs and set it on the bedside table. She handed Grace her tea then settled down on the chair near the bed with her own cup. Grace chattered on about Daniel, who seemed to be doing well with her folks, then switched topics to the baby. Darci listened with half an ear, her mind on her brother and Blaéz.
She had to find a way and bridge the animosity between them. The moment Declan had opened the front door at her arrival earlier, the aggression between the two had nearly choked her. Declan had barely been civil. And Blaéz, though nothing showed on his face, his entire demeanor held all the pleasantness of frost. He didn’t like that Declan had tried to set her up with Alex.
“Hun?”
Darci looked up from her tea. “Yes?”
Grace smiled. Even that didn’t brighten her ashy complexion. “Blaéz makes you happy. I see that…but he’s really intense, isn’t he? Watches you as if afraid you might just disappear.”
“Christ, Grace—” Darci’s laughter tangled in her throat. “Give me a break. Blaéz is too self-contained for something like that.”
But her usually easy-going sister-in-law didn’t laugh. She set her cup on the tray, concern filling her gaze. “You don’t see what I do, hun. All the guys you dated, you seemed disconnected from them somehow. Yet with Blaéz, there’s something between you two. You move, he does, too…no, not just his body, it’s like this entire force field surrounds the both of you.”
Darci dropped her gaze to her cup. At times she felt it, too. No matter what Blaéz said about not having emotions, or using hers, it felt real to her, and the only thing she had to hang on to.
She glanced at the ensuite door. How long did Declan take to shower? It’d been over an hour. Maybe he’d used the other one?
“I’ll be right back, Grace.” She picked up the tray and left the room but the other bathroom door stood open. Unease prickled between her shoulder blades.
In the kitchen, she set the tray on the counter and saw the folded note propped near the microwave. No, no, no! With trembling fingers, she unfolded it:I am going to talk to them. Watch Grace for me.
“Dammit, Declan!” She sprinted to the window. They wanted the money, not to talk.
Night had settled like a black cloak over the neighborhood. Darci stared helplessly at the empty driveway. She had no idea where these fights were held or she’d go there herself and give them the damn check. With nowhere else to turn, she did the only thing she could. She pulled her cell from her pocket and called Blaéz.
He answered on the first ring. “Darci?”
Why did just the sound of his voice ease her fears? She cleared the wedge in her throat. “Would you come over? Please?”
She ended the call before he could ask what was wrong. No way could she explain this over the phone. Blaéz would never agree to what she wanted. Her cell rang. She stared at his name, guilt squeezing her stomach at ignoring his call. Blaéz and her brother together were a disaster waiting to happen.
The doorbell rang.
