“Yes. Well, most of them. I left everything else behind in Chicago. It felt strange to keep them. Those are all Nina’s clothes, not mine.”
“That’s why you need to go shopping.”
I take my luggage off the bed and set it on the floor before taking a seat on the mattress.
“Did I say something wrong?” he questions as he walks over to me.
“No, it’s just . . .”
He takes a seat on the bed next to me. “Tell me.”
“I’ve never had money,” I begin. “I came from white trash. It was one thing for me to spend Bennett’s money, because I hated him and it felt good. But . . . I’ve never . . .” I stumble over my words, unsure of how to say what I’m attempting to and finally conclude, “I don’t come from your world, Declan. I can fake it. I can blend in. But at the end of the day, I’m just a runaway street kid. And you asking me to spend money . . . it doesn’t feel right.”
“Darling.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to buy. I don’t know what I like and don’t like. I’ve never had the luxury of that choice because I wore whatever scraps we could afford from thrift stores and garage sales. It was easy shopping on Bennett’s dime because I simply copied what the other women in his circle were wearing.” I pause for a moment before admitting, “I know Nina well, but I have no idea who I am because I’ve spent my life caged up and detached. And when I was with Bennett, I was simply pretending to be what he wanted.”
“You have choices now,” Declan says. “And you have time. You take all that you need to find yourself. That’s one thing I won’t rush you to do. But I don’t want you feeling guilty for the things I want to give you. You may not have started in my world, but you’re here now.”
“A part of me still doesn’t feel like I deserve to be. I don’t doubt you when you say you love me, but it feels undeserving.”
“It’s not. If I could give you more, I would. Nobody should ever have to face the nightmare that you did.” He takes my chin, angling me to him when he states, “You are not trash.”
“Some of those choices were mine though.”
“Like what?”
“Pike.”
His hand drops as he sighs. “I’ve tried to make sense of your relationship, and although I hate knowing that side of you two, all I can conclude is that you guys were just two kids trying to survive in a world that was deeper than hell. But you’re right, it was a choice you made. Luckily our choices don’t define us.” He then cradles my face in his hands, saying, “And you, darling, you were never a choice. You were put on this Earth destined to be loved by me.”
And with his words, in our continuing need to reclaim each other, he throws me back onto the bed, strips me, ties me up, and fucks me. It’s raw and primal and everything else Declan embodies.
Later that day, after all our bags are packed and the boys have prepped the property for our vacancy, we are ready to go to London. I feel like a child on her way to Disneyland, and I wear it on my face in an obnoxious smile. Lachlan loads our bags as I sit with Declan in the back seat of his Mercedes SUV.
“You seem mildly excited,” Declan teases, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
I turn my head to him. “Is it that obvious?”
“Insanely obvious. You might as well be skipping instead of walking.”
“Skip? I’m not sure I ever learned how to skip. But keep joking with me, and I just might.”
“Well, that’s everything,” Lachlan announces when he gets into the front seat. “Are we ready?”
Declan looks to me, and I give him an approving nod. “I’m ready.”
Lachlan drives down the winding road that leads to the gates I used to cling to and cry when I thought Declan was dead. He pulls out onto the main street, and as we get further away, a part of me feels free. Even though I love Brunswickhill, I’m ready for a little distance. So much has happened in the past couple weeks, so many lows, so much anger blended with beatific highs of love and newborn trust. It’s a rollercoaster I’m ready to get off because I’m craving the stability of walking with Declan on a solid surface.
Declan never lets go of my hand. It’s a simple gesture that reassures I’m safe with him throughout the trip.
“Take her over London,” Declan calls out to the pilot who has the cockpit open on his private plane.
The plane’s wing dips down as we turn, and Declan kisses me. It’s love and avidity, devotion and prurience as he takes ownership of my mouth, forcing me to breathe the air from his lungs. If Lachlan weren’t on this plane with us, I’m sure Declan’s cock would be buried inside my body right now.
He eventually relents, pulling back, leaving me breathless.