Temperance (Defiance #4) Read online

“Unless it’s for the right person,” Declan told him quietly. “You’re safe, Reb. You’re under my protection. Have been since I moved here.”

  “You’re going to shield me from everything?” Rebel asked.

  “That’s what you do for someone you love.” Declan looked oddly triumphant, and Rebel felt too vulnerable for comfort.

  But that was okay. Because he was under Declan’s protection, and so he grabbed Declan, yanking him close. “Thank you,” was what came out of his mouth, words neither of them expected.

  Declan smashed his mouth against Rebel’s, and yeah, that was the inevitable. Didn’t matter that the world around them was going to total motherfucking shit—the danger a stone’s throw away. Maybe that’s what made it so goddamned good, made him feel so alive, every nerve ending vibrating with need.

  The need to made Declan incoherent with lust. He hadn’t seen that in months.

  There wasn’t much Rebel could do to save the rest of the world, but he could do this for Declan.

  It was the only thing he could control…and so he would.

  *

  After Rebel told Declan, “You can fuck me. I want you to fuck me,” Declan didn’t ask if he was sure. No, Declan wasn’t stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth, and questioning Rebel when the man was at his most vulnerable point would fuck everything up.

  Instead, Declan stripped him, making sure to only touch Rebel’s clothing and not his skin—yet—as he continued kissing Rebel as much as he could. Distracting him so he wouldn’t get skittish and renege. And when Rebel was naked, Declan told him, “Get on the bed. Now.”

  Rebel lifted his chin—a subtle baring of his neck, a subtle sign of submission. God, it was perfect, just like Reb looked as he walked to the bed and lay down on his back.

  Declan didn’t want to fuck this up—couldn’t. Not when Reb had made everything so perfect for him. “Arms up.”

  Rebel complied after a moment’s hesitation. Declan had grabbed the ropes Rebel used on him sometimes—they were softer than most and didn’t leave marks. It didn’t matter that Declan didn’t tie them tightly, or in a way that Rebel couldn’t break out of. That wasn’t the point of this at all. The ropes were purely symbolic—Rebel would be the only thing holding himself there for Declan.

  *

  The ropes slid against the bare skin of Rebel’s wrists as he stared up at Declan. The intensity on Declan’s face comforted him, although he still had to order himself to relax and deal.

  You need this, he reminded himself, just as Declan’s palm came down on his chest, a firm touch meant to hold him and ground him. An electric charge ran through his body, a current of Declan’s pure energy that both calmed Rebel and made him prepare to plead for more.

  Before Rebel could do anything, though, Declan was on top of him, his jean-clad cock grinding against Rebel’s naked skin, the sensation enough to make Rebel groan into Declan’s mouth. They dry humped for several minutes, until Rebel’s skin was tight and hot and he wasn’t sure if he was coming or going.

  It had never been like this because he’d never allowed this to happen.

  “I’m not stopping. Don’t care how much you beg and plead for me to,” Declan murmured roughly in his ear as he ground his cock against Rebel’s.

  Rebel’s arms tugged at the bindings. Instinct, and maybe some fear, but his cock didn’t seem to have a problem with it. If anything, he was harder than he could ever remember being. “Come on, Dec. Do it.”

  “Trying to call the shots?” Declan smiled. “You’re lucky that turns me on.”

  “Then strip,” Rebel ground out.

  And Declan did, followed Rebel’s orders to touch himself, put on a show for him. For those few minutes, Declan allowed Rebel the illusion of control…and then he moved down Rebel’s body and took his cock into his mouth.

  Rebel’s body surged upward as Declan’s hot mouth enveloped him, sucked him hard enough to satisfy the urge to break away from the damned bed. Declan’s hands held his hips down as his tongue played along Rebel, his eyes never leaving Rebel’s face.

  “Yeah, Dec…that’s good. That’s…” He closed his eyes and bucked into Declan’s mouth, the quickness of the orgasm surprising him as it overtook his senses. His entire body tensed and relaxed within seconds of each other as Declan licked him clean, and Rebel was floating, so much so that he didn’t realize that Declan had lubed his fingers and was now pressing them into Rebel’s ass.

  The tension was there again, threatening to ruin everything, until Declan said quietly, “It’s me, Reb—I’ve got you under my protection. Nothing bad’s gonna happen here. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Trust me—please.”

  Rebel nodded, because his throat was tight with a wash of emotions that ran the gamut from lust to fear. He’d never allowed anyone to fuck him, not willingly, since those incidents when he was younger.

  Declan was going to get rid of those now, wipe the slate clean. Just his fingers brushing over Rebel’s prostate made Rebel’s cock hard again, made him gasp in a breath. He’d known how good it would feel—hell, he’d spent most of his adult life making other men feel it…but now Declan was doing it all for him.

  “Fuck me—come on. Now,” Rebel commanded, because he still needed some semblance of control, and Declan still needed the remnants of obeying his commands if this would work. And it did, because Declan slid into him, slow and steady at first, until Rebel demanded, “Harder. Come on—fuck me harder, Dec. Make me come right now.”

  Declan smiled and did as Rebel asked.

  *

  In the aftermath, Declan lay against Rebel’s chest. He was listening to the riotous beating of his heart when he felt Rebel’s strong arms wrap around him.

  Declan knew it’d be the last time he felt the man’s touch…would’ve been, whether or not Rebel discovered the mark. Better Rebel hate him than mourn him.

  And really, what had he been thinking anyway? He’d known this day was coming…but he’d thought there would be more time.

  It wouldn’t have mattered how many more hours he stole—no matter what, Declan would mourn enough for both of them in the brief time he had left.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kev

  A few days later, Kev made the trip back to Keller’s, at Keller’s request. After dropping paperwork off to Keller, Carter said, “You going to see your girl.”

  Kev shrugged…but he still grinned. “I cannot tell a lie.”

  “Yeah, bullshit. Just watch out for the weather.” Carter glanced up. “Supposed to get bad tonight.”

  “You staying with Bishop and Luna?”

  “What makes you think you’re the only one with a girl here?”

  Kev snorted. “Have fun, man. We’ll take off as soon as we can tomorrow.”

  Carter nodded and waved as he disappeared into the crowd. People were milling about—not the usual party. There was more of a frantic nature, like they were getting in the last bits of company and conversation before being locked down for the storm.

  Funny, even knowing they’d be safe, the idea that going down in the tube might end up to be an extended stay freaked most people out, and it got worse over time.

  Funnier still, because he felt the exact same way.

  The heaviness in the woods was worse than it had been before—and palpable. He fought the urge to run, and when he saw the house in the clearing, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  The door flew open and Siobhan motioned him in. “Hurry—it’s going to come down in buckets!”

  She wasn’t exaggerating. The second he stepped inside, the sky cracked wide and simply poured a river that slammed the old tin roof.

  Like she knew his moment of panic, she put a cool palm on the back of his neck. “Sashi’s underground already.”

  “How sturdy’s the place?”

  “Hasn’t fallen down.”

  Hopefully it would hold out for tonight, because he had plans, and he didn’t want interruptions. He picked her up, han
ds on her slim hips. She was strong, hanging on him.

  The candles on the table flickered against the wind that found its way through the cracks in the walls. She grabbed him. Kissed him. As the fury of the storm took over, he took Siobhan to bed, rolling like thunder in the old bed in the old house…

  “It’s not going to last long,” she murmured.

  “Can’t say that about me.”

  “God, that’s horrible.”

  She slapped his shoulder and he moved so he was on top of her, murmuring, “Need me to prove it?”

  She wrapped around him. “God yes.”

  *

  The next morning, when Rebel woke, Declan was gone from the tube. Rebel dressed quickly, really hoping he wasn’t going to find Declan had snuck out of Defiance—or worse, was fighting with a mob scene around him. Again.

  But Declan wasn’t far from the tube. No, he was waiting at the door of his truck in the small, more private lot, hemmed in by trees and away from prying eyes. With his bag.

  “Job?” Rebel inquired as he got closer.

  Declan shrugged. Shook his head no as he tossed his bag in the car. “Reb…I can’t…can’t stay.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “I’m leaving Defiance.”

  “And me,” Rebel whispered.

  “You’re still not ready.”

  “I told you more than I ever thought I could. I did what you asked…”

  “Yeah, you did. But there’s something bigger than that, and I have to deal with it.”

  “Have you been fucking saying goodbye to me this whole damned time?”

  Declan didn’t answer. Didn’t matter—Rebel already had his answer. His tattoo burned, his heart raced and he turned away.

  But Dec said he’d protect me…

  At that thought, he turned back around just as quickly. “Listen, I’m not doing this, not letting you run me off again. The whole world’s complicated. Shouldn’t love be simpler? Good? Come the fuck on, Dec…how hard can loving someone be, especially after what we’ve all been through?” Rebel’s voice sounded almost frantic to his own ears.

  Declan remained stone-faced. The change from last night to this moment was undeniable, and Rebel wasn’t sure what the fuck was happening. His mind reeled as he tried to think back on what might’ve caused this sudden turnabout.

  Until Declan’s calm tone cut through his thoughts. “I’m leaving, Rebel. It’s better this way, all around. I shouldn’t have come here to begin with. Keller realizes that now. So does Caspar.”

  As he watched Declan drive away in the direction of the gates until he could no longer see the truck, Rebel had no idea whether or not it might be the last time he ever saw Declan. His mind was screaming at him to go after him, to do something…

  Anything.

  You knew, he told himself. Declan was giving up—on them. Maybe on everything. Because it was either go after Declan, or deal with the voice behind him that said, “I knew you were fucking a guy, but I didn’t know you were fucking Keller’s kid.”

  Rebel would never second-guess that choice, not for as long as he lived. Slowly, he turned to see Goose standing there, half emerged from the surrounding woods and semi-illuminated by the generator-fed low light emanating from the parking lot. “What the fuck are you doing spying on me?”

  “Your daddy’d roll over in his grave if he knew about this.”

  “Leave him out of it,” Rebel ground out.

  “Although maybe he wouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always liked it, knew that from when you were little. You’d give it up for Adam,” Goose told him with a sneer.

  Rebel froze. “You…saw? You knew?”

  “Knew you were queer,” Goose spat. “And Adam—”

  “Adam raped me,” Rebel said quietly. “I was ten…and you watched him and did nothing. And it’s my fault?”

  “Adam wasn’t queer,” Goose said, like that logic would defy everything. “You’re gonna take this place down—you, and Keller’s queer son. I’m putting a stop to it. It’s either you leave or I’ll tell everyone who Keller’s son is.”

  Rebel didn’t bother to ask how Goose knew that last part—he had to be in bed with the Nomads. All he did know was that if he left, Goose would have no intention of keeping that promise…and that his vengeance could destroy Declan—and Defiance—for good.

  But before he could do anything, Declan appeared, out of nowhere. Walked up to Goose, smiled, and then stabbed him in the heart and held the knife inside him, watched him struggle…and die.

  He let Goose drop to the ground with the knife still in his chest. Turned to stare at Rebel.

  “Dec…”

  “So you wouldn’t have to,” Declan told him firmly. “This gives you an out—for everything. No one would let me stay here now.”

  Rebel felt like the knife had gone through his heart as well. “I would’ve killed him to protect you.”

  “I know. That’s not why I killed him, Reb.” Declan’s voice shook a little. “He knew. He watched. He did nothing. He deserved to die. If it stopped you from killing him for me—and getting kicked out? Two birds, one stone. Or knife, as the case may be.”

  “Get out of here, Dec.”

  “You tell them I did this, Reb. Don’t take it on yourself. Promise me, dammit.”

  Rebel opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded. Only then did Declan back away.

  Rebel stayed there, crouching down, staring at Goose…reliving the torture he’d gone through with Adam. “And you knew, you dirty old fuck. Deserved everything you got…and more.”

  “What the fuck, Reb?”

  Rebel looked up from the ground to where Hammer was staring down at him. He glanced at the scene like an outsider might see it—him, hovering over Goose’s dead, bloody body.

  “Reb…did you do this?”

  Rebel could say no, that he walked up and saw it. He could say that Goose attacked him. But he didn’t. “Yeah, I did. I killed him.”

  “Talk to me. What? Why?”

  “I can’t tell you. I won’t. But I don’t regret it. And I never will.”

  “You said you’d never hurt a member of this club,” Hammer reminded him—like Rebel needed reminding. “And now you’re murdering a senior member after getting into bed with Declan.”

  Getting into bed was a figure of speech, but it still made Rebel’s heart stop. Because Declan had been right—by not telling them before this, if it did come out it would look like Rebel had been conspiring with Declan the entire time.

  Weren’t you though, in a way? Just not in the way Hammer was implying. “Better go get Caspar,” he told Hammer. “We’ll move on from there.”

  Hammer stared between him and Goose, and then moved away, presumably to do what Rebel had asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Keller waited for him at the mouth of the compound. As he drove there, Declan steeled himself for what could happen: imprisonment. Beating. Being shunned. All of the above. If Keller needed to make a point to Caspar, Declan would deal. MCs were all about vengeance, an eye for an eye, and that was definitely something Declan could understand.

  When he walked into Keller’s office, he’d barely closed the door before saying, “I killed a Defiance member. He was in with the Nomads, but that’s not why I did it.”

  Keller nodded. “Rebel took the credit, but I don’t think Caspar believes it. Not based on his phone call about your sudden, unauthorized disappearance. I’m sorry, Dec. I know how much you risked for him.”

  “I’d do it again,” Declan said. “But still, I fucked everything up.”

  “No,” Keller told him seriously. “You’ve never done that. You’ve picked up more slack, done more than your share. Suffered more than you deserved.”

  It was this side of his father so few saw, and Declan knew why. The show of emotions always equaled weakness in their world. If Keller understood nothing else, he understood human nature. It was what had gotten him so far in life. And he’d
always told Declan that Declan was a blend of his mom and Keller—the perfect balance, he’d say, to survive in any kind of world.

  But Declan was tired of simply surviving, and Keller understood that too. There wasn’t a lot anyone could do to facilitate that, and the fact that Keller got that made up for a lot. “I can’t stay.”

  “I know.” Keller furrowed his brow. “I’ll send Bishop and Luna back.”

  “No, send another Keller rep to Defiance. Maybe Jojo,” Declan suggested. “I think Caspar will deal with that.”

  Keller’s expression hardened. “They need us more than we need them.”

  That might be true to a certain extent, but a mafia without an MC ally wasn’t in the greatest position. “Try to keep the peace. Caspar wasn’t the issue there. Others were.”

  “Then Caspar should be able to keep them in line.”

  “It doesn’t matter—I left for Rebel. For his reputation. He sits at the table. I should’ve known that it wouldn’t work. Should’ve told you.”

  “I knew, Declan,” Keller said softly. Declan’s neck snapped toward him in surprise. “If I can trust that you won’t compromise this compound, I’d think Defiance should be able to feel the same about Rebel. Didn’t he grow up in the life, just like us?”

  Just like us. Declan supposed there wasn’t much difference between the mafias and the MCs, either pre- or post-Chaos.

  “We’ll work it out,” Keller promised as a knock sounded on the door, and both men pulled it together, so much so that no one would mistake them for anything more than a leader and his respected colleague and worker. Even Keller’s longtime girlfriend.

  Kammy greeted Declan warmly, even with the slight surprise in her tone. Keller would fill her in on certain events when Declan left…but not his lineage.

  In less than an hour, Declan would be back on the road. His fate had been sealed long before he’d been locked in that coffin.

  *

  Declan drove halfway between Defiance and Keller’s…thought about just continuing on.

  “No,” he told himself firmly, out loud, as he braked the truck and slammed out. He walked a few feet into the woods and waited. Counted backward from ten and felt them by the time he got to number three.