He'd gone to war for me.
Tortured information out of Rafael's men. Fought through a warehouse full of armed guards. Almost died trying to reach me because the alternative was unthinkable.
“I love you,” I said. The words came out easier than they ever had before. “In case that wasn't clear.”
Declan's expression shifted. Went soft in a way I'd only seen glimpses of before. “It was pretty clear. But hearing you say it when you're not half-dead or in the middle of a firefight is nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my bruised knuckles that made my breath catch. “I love you too. Have for longer than I probably should. Definitely longer than was smart or appropriate or any of the things I told myself would keep us both safe.”
“Smart and appropriate.” I tried to smile and winced when it pulled at something in my jaw. “That ship sailed a while ago.”
“Understatement of the fucking year.” His mouth twitched. “We're a disaster.”
“Best disaster I've ever been part of.”
“That's a low bar considering your track record.”
“Fair point.” I squeezed his hand. “But I'm still keeping you.”
“Good.” He settled back in the chair but didn't let go. “Because you're stuck with me now. I killed people for you. That's pretty much a binding contract.”
“Pretty sure that's not how contracts work.”
“It's how my contracts work.”
The absurdity of it hit me then. The two of us sitting in a hospital room joking about murder and commitment like they were the same thing. Like we hadn't just survived something that should have killed us both.
Maybe that's what love looked like when you stripped away all the bullshit. Just two broken people choosing each other anyway.
“You know most people just buy a ring or some shit,” I said. “Not storm a warehouse and shoot their way through armed guards.”
“I'm not most people.”
“No. You're really fucking not.” I looked at him. At the bruises and the stitches and the exhaustion carved into every line of his face. “You're better.”
Something in his expression cracked open then. Just for a second. Just enough that I saw how much those words meant.
“I'm glad you came back,” Declan said.
“Even with everything that happened after?”
“Especially with everything that happened after.” Declan's expression went serious. “Because now I know. Now we both know what this is. We don't have to keep pretending it's just grief or guilt or any of the other excuses we used to keep from admitting the truth.”
A nurse came in then. Checked my vitals with brisk efficiency while asking questions about pain levels and nausea and whether I could remember what happened. I answered on autopilot and watched Declan the whole time. When she finallyleft us alone again, the silence felt heavier. More loaded with the possibilities that hadn't existed before Rafael.
“Luka came by yesterday,” Declan said. “While you were still out. He wanted to make sure you were okay and to discuss what happens next.”
“Next?”
“The rehab center. Chicago. Whether it makes sense to stay here after everything Rafael did.” He shifted in the chair. “He suggested moving the main operations to London. Opening a branch at Ravenswood while Mara takes over here.”
My heart kicked against my ribs. “What did you say?”
“That I'd think about it.” He paused. “That it was a big decision. Chicago's been my home for a long time. Uprooting my entire life wasn't something I could do on a whim.”
“But?”
