Hush (Black Lotus #3) (8 page)

“I’LL GET YOU
added to my accounts so you can go shopping. I don’t want you touching Bennett’s money any more,” Declan says when I zip up my luggage.

“What are you talking about?”

He eyes my bag, asking, “Those are all your belongings, right?”

“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.

“Look,” he says, pointing out my window.

I look down and smile when I see London lit up in the night’s darkness, and it’s magical. We fly over the River Thames where the Tower Bridge glows brightly above the water. Declan points out the major landmarks as we pass them, and I drink in every word he says. Parliament, Big Ben, and the London Eye are behind us in a blink of a moment as we prepare to land at Biggin Hill Airport.

Once landed, it’s another hour drive into Knightsbridge, London. We pass designer store fronts and swanky restaurants that line the brightly lit streets. Everything about this area screams luxury.

“We’re here,” Declan tells me when Lachlan pulls the car into an underground parking garage that’s heavily secured. “You doing okay?”

“Mmm hmm. Just a little tired.”

Lachlan finds our designated parking spot and turns the car off. We make our way through the garage, and Declan wasn’t lying when he told me how private this place is. I watch as Declan approaches a sleek black box mounted on the wall. He leans his face in, placing his eyes up to the lenses and hits the silver button. A few seconds later, the door clicks and he’s able to open it.

“What was that?” I question.

“Iris scanner,” he tells me. “It’s the only way to get through the first set of doors. We’ll get you into the system tomorrow.”

I follow him next through the fingerprint sensor that opens another door, and the last door is secured by a key card. Three barriers of security, and we’re finally inside the building.

He takes my hand, and with a sexy smile, says, “Welcome home.”

“It’s practically a fortress.”

“Practically,” he repeats before stopping at the concierge to drop off the keys to the car and instructing the delivery of all our luggage.

Lachlan stays behind in the lobby as we step onto the elevator. It’s one thing for me to be Mrs. Vanderwal, living in the penthouse of The Legacy, but this is on a totally different scale. When Declan told me we’d be living here, I did my research. I knew I’d be living among the world’s elite: Ukrainian business moguls, Qatar’s former Prime Minister, Russian real estate magnates, among others. We may not be living in the penthouse, but the seventh floor is as intimidating as any penthouse in the United States.

It’s a simultaneous finger scan and key card scan to unlock the door.

“After you,” Declan says as he motions for me to enter.

I walk through the grand foyer into the impressive living room. Everything is razor sleek lines, clean and simple. Intricate raindrop crystal chandeliers cascade their soft glow over the crisp white walls and white furniture, creating a warmth to the otherwise stark color. The rich mocha woodwork is a pleasant contrast to the white, warming the space even more. It’s contemporary design at its most opulent.

“What do you think?”

Turning my head to look over my shoulder at Declan who’s still standing in the foyer, I respond with phony condescension, “A bit much, isn’t it, McKinnon?”

“You’re displeased?”

“It’ll do,” I tease with an ever-so-slight grin, and he laughs, saying, “Well, it’s all yours. Go ahead, darling. Explore.”

I look around, opening every door and peeking in every room. The kitchen is outfitted in commercial grade appliances, and the bathrooms are as lavish as those you’d find in upscale spas. Every perimeter is lined with floor to ceiling, wall to wall windows that overlook Knightsbridge. There’s an office upstairs that’s clearly been furnished by Declan because it’s filled with a rich chesterfield couch and chairs, the same as his office in Chicago and his library in Scotland. And both bedrooms, one on each wing of the second floor, have en suites and large, plush beds that stand taller than your average.

“This one is ours,” Declan whispers from behind my ear as I stand in one of the bedrooms.

His lips press against my pulse point, sending shivers up my arms.

“It’s perfect.”

We stand in front of the window, looking down on the lights of the city, and I cannot believe I’m here—in London—with a man who knows my truth and loves me regardless.

“I read an article about this building the other day. They said it was soulless and devoid of life. I know it was referring to the secrecy of its occupants and everything else, but if they only knew what was behind this bulletproof glass.”

“And what’s that?” he questions, and when I turn around in his arms and look up at him, I respond, “Life.”

His leans down, kisses my forehead, and I speak softly to him. “I’ve never felt so alive as I do with you. Right here, right now. I never thought this was possible, to feel the way I do.”

“I never wanted this with anyone else. Even in my darkest days without you, even when I thought I couldn’t hate you more, I still wanted you.”

Before he can get the chance to kiss me, the ring of the doorbell sounds.

“Bawbags,” he fumes in irritation at the interruption, and I can’t help but laugh at his Scottish curse.

It really is an ugly language, but the accent is beyond sexy.

I follow him downstairs to the living room, and when Lachlan walks in with two employees with our luggage, I beam with excitement. “Have you seen this place?”

He doesn’t respond to me, but instead approaches Declan, asking, “May I?” as I watch in curiosity.

“She’s all yours,” Declan tells him. “She’s about as excited as a lass at her first tea party.”

Lachlan laughs, walking straight towards me, and I can’t help my own laughter at his demeanor. He grabs me, picking me up as if I were a little girl and gives me a joyous embrace.

“This smile you wear makes dealing with McKinnon’s shit-stain moods worth my while.”

We laugh as he sets me down, and I’m so thankful for his loyalty to Declan and the friendship he’s given me. He’s twenty years my elder, and I find comfort in that. As if I can look to him for guidance in a way I can’t with Declan. In a way a child might look to a parent. He gives me that feeling, and it’s settling.

“Thank you.”

“For what, love?”

“Opening my car door the night I first met you.”

“Oh yes, our first date,” he animates in a shameless attempt to taunt Declan, and Declan doesn’t miss a beat when he responds, “Fuck off, Lachlan, and you can get your hands off her now. You got your hug, you’re done.”

His words are harsh, but they’re in jest. These boys go way back to their days at Saint Andrew’s, so it’s no surprise they fight like brothers, despite their age gap.

“Well, then, if all is in place here, I guess I’ll head to my hotel.”

“Lachlan, wait.”

He takes a step closer to me, and I ask, “Have you heard anything about my dad? Good or bad? Has anyone called you?”

“You’ve been with me all day,” he says, but no matter how content I feel, there’s still unsettling anxiety when it comes to my dad.

“I know, I just . . .”

“I promise you I’m doing everything I can, love. We’ll find him for you.”

I nod as I feel the weight of the unknown swell in my chest, and Declan immediately senses it. He quickly dismisses Lachlan when I wander over to the windows and stare out.

“This is a good day,” he tells me when he moves to stand next to me along the window.

“What if he’s down there, right under my nose, among all those people?”

“Then he won’t be too hard to find.”

My eyes skitter over the men and women walking along the sidewalks, enjoying their night, when Declan pulls me away.

“I’m doing everything I can. We have several people at this point that are trying to find him. The manifest is only one angle of the many we are working on. But you heard Lachlan,” he stresses. “He’ll call us with any updates.”

“I know, I’m just—”

“On edge,” he interrupts, finishing my thought, and he’s right.

I want answers, and these past few days of waiting are eating me alive.

“Not tonight. I want to see that smile again.”

“You act like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen me smile.”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you truly smile from your soul.
You
—Elizabeth. You wear it differently than the woman I knew in Chicago, and I want to see it again,” he says and then picks me up, hoisting me over his shoulder.

“Declan!” I squeal out in playfulness. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get you naked, tie you up, and then order myself dinner,” he teases.