Impossibly (Dante’s Nine MC #1)(45)
Author: Colleen Masters

I duck back into the shadows as I hear the gravel crunch beneath Lorenzo’s fancy shoes. As he rounds the corner, a black town car comes roaring across the lot, swinging around to fetch him. I hold my breath as the headlights blaze my way, but the night hides me well. Lorenzo brushes off the front of his suit jacket and slips into the waiting car. It sails off into the night, silent and slick.

Trembling all over, I lunge for the front door. Just as I ease it open again, Declan rounds the corner, eyes blazing in the moonlight. He spots me in the doorway and stops dead in his tracks. His shoulders are squared and roiling with tension. He looks for the world like a mad dog, about to break free from his chain leash and attack. I feel my blood run cold at the sight of him like this. I’ve never once been truly afraid of Declan. Not until this moment.

“How much of that did you hear?” he asks, his hands balled into tight fists.

“How much of…what?” I ask, my breath catching in my throat, “I was j-just…coming out to check on you.”

“Never interrupt me when I’m speaking with someone about club business,” he snaps, “Especially not when that someone is Lorenzo Conti.”

“OK,” I whisper, letting the door fall shut once again. “I’m sorry, Dec.”

“It’s…not your fault,” he says through gritted teeth, “It’s mine. It’s all my fucking fault.”

I jump back as Declan slams his fist against a rusted metal locker, kicks at the solid brick wall. He’s fuming, out of control. I have no idea how to handle him right now. Do I turn and run, like the Dante’s Nine girls said I should? Or do I wait it out, help him through this? As if approaching a wild stallion, I edge forward, toward the man who’s come to mean so much to me.

“Let’s just get out of here, Declan,” I say, “You need to cool down—”

“You have no idea what I need to do,” he shouts, slamming his steel toe against the locker, “You have no idea what I have to do…”

“And I don’t need to,” I tell him, “Not tonight. I just want to help you, Dec. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

He locks eyes with me, breathing hard and fast. His features waver between surprise, anger, and something that looks a lot like fear. My heart aches for this warrior of mine, caught between so many worlds like pressing panes of glass. And from what he and Lorenzo were saying just now, it sounds like I’m to blame for some of this fresh struggle. I have to help him, somehow. Any way I can.

Declan gulps down air, the gears of his mind spinning. I can see him fighting to get control of himself, slowly gaining ground against his turbulent emotions. Finally, he manages to force a phrase through his teeth.

“Take a ride with me,” he commands.

I glance nervously at his Harley, my stomach flipping over. Can he really be trusted to drive in this state? Before I can answer, Declan grabs me by the hand and tows me over to his ride. He hands me a helmet and lights himself a smoke as he swings onto the bike. I’m frozen in place, staring down at my helmet with mounting terror. The Harley’s headlights blaze to life, and Declan turns back to look at me, cigarette clenched between his teeth.

“You in?” he asks. And I can tell that he’s not just talking about this one jaunt on his bike.

“I’m in,” I tell him, bracing myself against whatever’s about to happen.

I shove the helmet over my head and climb onto the back of Declan’s bike. As my arms circle his hard, muscled torso once again, my fear subsides. As long as I can hold this man, I know I don’t need to be afraid. He would never let anything happen to me. The conversation I just overheard is proof enough of that. I’m deathly curious about this deal with Lorenzo, the hundred million dollar match that Declan wants no part of. But if I’ve learned one thing so far, it’s that Dec will tell me what I need to know when I need to know it, and not a second sooner. Hard as it may be, I have to trust him.

We tear away from the Forty-Five Club, just as John Baxter appears in the doorway with the rest of the brothers behind him. His expression is stern and unreadable as Declan and I fly away into the night, roaring along the dusty roads as fast as the Harley will take us. I tighten my arms around Declan’s waist and decide, then and there, to put my trust in this man. I’ve never been one for faith, but if I can believe in anything, it’s him.

Out into the desert we race, just the two of us against the careening night sky. As the light pollution of Vegas loses its grip on the stars, I look up in wonder. This is how it feels, caring for someone like Declan Tiberi: all alone with him under the beautiful, crushing expanse of things we have no control over. Together, but always racing some force that’s much, much bigger than we are. But even though I’m terrified, I know in my heart that there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.

As we wind up into the hills, I scream over the whipping wind. “Pull over, Dec.”

“I don’t want to stop,” he yells back.

“We’re out of there now. It’s just you and me,” I insist, “Just stop for a second and talk to me. Please.”

I feel his muscles tense beneath my hands, but the ride has calmed him some. He swings onto a deserted drive, carrying us out to a secluded patch of earth. Shaking, I ease myself down off the Harley. The silence is deafening as Declan cuts the engine. He sits hunched forward, his hands still gripping the handlebars. I reach for him tentatively, running my hands along his leather clad shoulders.

“It’s just me,” I say softly, trailing my hands down his arms.

I place my fingers over his, gently prying his hands out of their grips. He blinks up at me in the clear, bright moonlight—almost as if he’s surprised to find me here. It’s like he’s coming up out of a trance, back into himself. In one swift motion, he stands up and sweeps me into his arms. I press myself against his firm chest, fighting back sudden tears.

“I’m sorry Kassie,” he murmurs, planting a fierce kiss on the top of my head, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I tell him, lacing my fingers behind his neck.

“Yes I do,” he insists, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. Especially by me. I’m really in the middle of some shit, Kass—”

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” I cut him off, “I trust you, Declan. I know that whatever it is you’re up against, you’ll figure it out. You’ll find some way to make everything right. I believe in you.”