Unleashed #4 (6 page)

“Who?” His eyes
glittered with rage.

“Why does it matter?”

“Who did you sell it
to?” He took a step closer.

“His name is Lymon
Culpepper.”

“Lymon Culpepper?”

“Yes, he’s some
creepy freak but he’s the one who made me an offer so I sold it to
him. But none of that matters, Declan! I need you to leave me alone!”
He took another step closer toward me, looking heartbreakingly
gorgeous, rumpled, tortured and raging with need.

“Declan!” I cried
out desperate. “Nothing has changed. I can’t do this with you. I
won’t do it.”

“Why, Kara?” He
looked the most vulnerable I’d ever seen him, calling out to me in
the moonlight.

“I can’t trust
you!” A fierce strength came into my lungs as I spoke now. “I
won’t let you treat me like this. I deserve more.”

He stopped and his gaze
flattened, lost some of its power.

“We live in
completely different worlds,” I insisted.

“What do you mean?”
He looked confused and hurt and I almost caved, almost gave in right
there. But I had to stay strong. My body had just betrayed me, but I
had to keep fighting to do what was right.

“I’ll never fit
into your world,” I flatly declared, picturing him in the hallway
at that gala, kissing that glittering, rich, empty woman. “And I
don’t want to.”

“What world? Where do
I fit in that you don’t?

“New York City! That
woman!” I knew I wasn’t making a ton of sense, but the emotions
battling through me challenged coherent speech. He continued looking
at me, baffled. “I saw you,” I insisted.

“What?”

“I saw you kissing
Courtney. At the party.”

“Courtney?”

“Don’t make me drag
through all the details!” I rubbed my forehead with my hands. “You
know what I’m talking about. Courtney, in the hallway.”

“That?”

“Yes, that,” I
said, exasperated. “Don’t act like it’s nothing.”

“What do you think
you saw?” He looked befuddled and as exasperated as me.

“I don’t think I
saw! I know I saw you kiss her!”

“Kara—”

“Do you deny it?”

“No, but it’s
not…that drunk socialite? She’s nothing to me.”

“That doesn’t
exactly make me feel better.” How could he be so cold and callous
about his conquests?

“She was drunk and
she kissed me. One second longer you would have seen me pushing her
off.”

“I don’t believe
you.” I shook my head. I didn’t want his sweet-talking. I knew
the man could tempt me into anything. I needed to block my ears like
a sailor to the sirens or I’d end up crashed on the rocks. I should
have stuffed my ears with cotton balls so I wouldn’t succumb to his
words. Actions spoke much louder, and I knew what I’d seen. “I
can’t believe you, Declan.”

We stood there, not
touching in the darkness.

“You’ve broken my
heart, Declan. Twice now.” I shook my head, trying not to cry. “I
can’t trust you. There’s too much mess between us. Don’t ask me
to do this. I can’t.” I couldn’t help it. The sobs welled up
and burst through, my shoulders sagging into the weight of my tears.
“I can’t let you break my heart again. Please.”

He took a step closer.

“No!” The word came
out strong, much stronger and more certain than I felt. But I knew if
he touched me, held me in his strong, solid arms I’d never stand a
chance.

“Declan, if you care
about me at all, please go away. I don’t want what you have to
offer. I need you to leave. I can’t do this.”

With that I turned and
walked up to the big house on the hill. I shook as I walked, but I
hoped he couldn’t see. I made it up the stairs and through the
front door. No hand came around my waist, no voice called for me to
stop.

I closed the door
behind me and sat at the kitchen table in the darkness. I heard the
engine of his truck start, the sound of his wheels on the dirt
driveway.

Declan drove out of my
life. Just like he had the first time. Only this time, I knew it was
forever.

Declan

First thing I did back
in Billings was get Lymon Culpepper’s phone number. What kind of a
name was Lymon fucking Culpepper? Who was this joker? He wasn’t
going to be the owner of Kara’s ranch, I knew that much.

Nine a.m., I had my
lawyer make the phone call. Fifteen minutes later he phoned me back.
The deal was done. All that pain and worry I’d put Kara through and
all it took me was a two-minute phone call plus some wait time as my
lawyer did his job. I truly was an asshole.

You know who might have
been a bigger one, though? That Culpepper asshat. First of all, what
he’d offered for Kara’s ranch had been peanuts, an insult. Only a
desperate, down-on-her luck woman would accept an offer that low. I
hadn’t realized Kara had been backed so far into a corner. Another
strike against me.

She’d been trying to
be brave, I could see that now, keeping quiet about it all. But if
I’d asked and listened she probably would have told me. I’d done
neither. I’d taken her like a caveman, dragging her off to spank
and fuck her and ignore everything else for my own selfish pleasure.
I could truly be a dick.

I should have bailed
her out the second I saw her. The minute she told me she needed help,
I should have done it. It was all so simple. But no, I’d put her
through hell because I was a selfish bastard. I chose to torture her
so I could keep her with me instead of helping her and letting her
go.

I could say I wished
she’d told me how close she was to the edge, but I should have
known. It wasn’t like I’d always had money. How quickly rich
assholes forgot what it was like to be in real dire straits.

But Lymon Culpepper,
him I really hated. He wouldn’t sell for anything less than double
his offer. Normally, I’d have worn him down. Used time, pressure,
all my bag of tricks. But in this case, I wanted it done. I needed it
done. This transaction took his grubby paws off her deed, and that
couldn’t happen fast enough.

“The guy’s shady,”
my lawyer, Stephen, confirmed on the phone. “He wanted to rob her
blind.”

“But it’s done?”

“You made him an
offer he couldn’t refuse.”

“Greedy little fuck.”
I flicked a paperclip off my desk. It crashed into the wall, then
fell to the floor. I’d like to do that to Lymon Culpepper. I didn’t
like giving that slimy rat money, but honestly it wasn’t much to
me. And it got the job done. He was out of the picture, effective
immediately.

“It’s all taken
care of. Money wired into his account. And I’ve arranged to have
the deed delivered to her by courier, as you requested,” Stephen
continued.

“When will it
arrive?”

“End-of-business day
today.”

I exhaled with
frustration. Stephen knew me well enough to understand without my
saying. I wanted it there sooner.

“It’s a long ways
away, Declan. Even five o’clock is a stretch.”

“Yup.” I knew it
was true. She lived out in the middle of nowhere. But I wanted that
piece of paper in her hands. I couldn’t rest until I knew her
anguish was eased.

“And my name?” I
asked.

“Kept out of it
entirely.”

“Good man.”

As per my instructions,
my attorney, Stephen, had purchased the property under the auspices
of an anonymous buyer. There was no need to put my stamp on it, get
involved personally. My name wasn’t on any of this.

I wasn’t a good man.
But for once in my life I could try. I could attempt to do something
selfless, not take credit, not grab the apple from the tree but let
it hang there to ripen full. I knew she’d suspect I’d done it,
but I didn’t want to take credit. That’s how the good guys did
it, wasn’t it? They made the rescue happen, but didn’t need to
have their photo front and center in tomorrow’s papers.

Lord knew I was no good
guy. I was a dark beast of a man. But I was a dark beast who’d at
least seen movies about good guys. I could copy them, imitate that
kind of selfless altruism. Even though deep inside I wanted to
pedal-to-the-metal all the way to Kara’s, grab her and shout
“mine!” I wanted to tell her I’d rescued her, given her
everything she’d wanted, and drag her off to a cave. But that was
the selfish bastard in me.

I wanted to keep at her
about Courtney, too, keep insisting she was wrong. The fact was she
hadn’t seen what she’d thought she had. She was wrong about
Courtney. But she was right about me in general. I didn’t keep it
in my pants. I’d licked, sucked and fucked countless women, many
whose names I didn’t know, sometimes multiple girls at once. It
didn’t matter that now I felt different, that now monogamy appealed
in a way I’d never understood before. It sounded like bullshit even
to me, even when I knew with certainty at the core of my being that
if I had the chance to bury myself in Kara every night, I’d never
want anything more.

But there was a time
for beating someone down, a battering ram forcing submission. And a
time for big, showy displays, for bowling someone over with jewelry
and designer dresses and nights on the town. I’d tried both
already. Now it was time for a different approach.

This time, I’d show
restraint. I’d do a good deed and leave it at that. If you loved
someone, you were supposed to set them free. I’d always hated that
sappy song by Sting. But that was what she’d asked from me. So now
I’d try to stay away from her, let her be free of me. She’d have
her ranch. I’d let her go.

She might respond to me
with her body—and hell yes I liked the way she did—but I honestly
couldn’t do it to her if she truly didn’t want me to. All the
protesting and restraints only worked, only got me hard if she felt
real desire on the other end.

Last night, she’d
looked me clear and strong in the eyes and told me to leave her
alone. She didn’t want what I offered. And I didn’t blame her.
She had a kind, generous, sweet heart. I preyed on people like her. I
plundered, pillaged, raided, scanned others for weaknesses and
opportunities and then took full advantage.

I had it in writing.
I’d had it told to my face. She didn’t want me. I knew what I had
to do.

§

At six o’clock that
night she called. I let it go to voicemail. I didn’t know what to
say. I hadn’t been sure she would try to get in touch. I’d made
certain that my name wasn’t associated with any part of the real
estate transaction. She’d never know for sure it was me who paid
for and gave her back her ranch.

Now that she had
called, I felt confused. If she asked me had I done it, should I tell
her the truth? Or should I lie? I had no rulebook, the good guy’s
code of conduct. This was all new to me.

Stephen, my lawyer,
called to confirm that he’d spoken with her. He’d simply
identified himself as an attorney and told her that the terms of her
property transaction had changed. She was now the full owner of her
ranch, paid off completely. The deed had been delivered to her by
courier and she’d signed her acceptance.

“How did she sound?”

“Excuse me?”
Stephen wasn’t used to that kind of question. Terms of agreements,
i
’s dotted,
t
’s
crossed, that was his comfort zone. Emotions didn’t factor in for
him, nor did they usually for me.

“Did she sound
happy?”

“Well,” he
hesitated. “It took a few repetitions to make her understand. And
then she started crying.”

“Happy crying?”

“It was on the
phone.”

“I know, but could
you tell?”

“No, I could not.”
He paused and I could almost hear him thinking ‘what the fuck?’
in the silence. But he didn’t say it out loud. He was too
professional. And I paid him too well. “I’d have to guess yes,
wouldn’t you?”

I went to the gym.
Seven o’clock she called again but I let it ring through. I had
boxing gloves taped to my hands. That would only last so long,
though. Sooner or later I’d have to answer it.

Eight thirty. I’d
jogged back to the condo and showered off. Drink in my hands, Kara
called again. This time, I picked up.

“What did you do?”
She sounded breathless, elated. My hand clenched on the phone. I
wanted to see her like that, the light in her eyes, joy in her heart.

“What do you mean?”
I cleared my throat.

“The ranch!” she
exploded in delight. “I know you did it! I have the title in my
hands!”

“I’m happy for you,
Kara.”

“Declan!” She
laughed, maybe cried, I couldn’t tell, just that she sounded happy,
so overwhelmed with happiness. “I can’t believe it.”

I didn’t say
anything, just listened to her delight, taking it in, letting it wash
over me. No one did happy like Kara. She brought it right up to the
top, overflowing, and I could feel it through the phone.

“Thank you,” she
murmured and I could tell she said it smiling, suffused with emotion.
I nodded though she couldn’t see me, neither confirming nor
denying. She knew I’d done it. Though I supposed I could still take
some pride in the fact I hadn’t taken credit, hadn’t immediately
shot my hand up in class waving it and shouting, “Me, me it was
me!”

“I don’t know what
else to say,” she sighed, satisfied. “Guess I’ll just go with
good night, Declan. And thank you.”

The call ended. She
hung up. I stood there like a wooden statue—man with phone at ear.

What would a good man
do? Probably, that would be it. He’d put down the phone and not
call back. He’d go about his business, respecting the distance
others requested. That would be what a good man would do.

I wasn’t a good man.

Ten o’clock and I’d
made good time. I only had another couple of hours before I got to
Kara’s ranch. And it really was her ranch this time, not Harlan’s,
not Lymon what-the-fuck’s, not a bank-owned property. She owned her
ranch and I loved that, hoped she felt the true freedom and gift of
independence. I remembered how it felt to own my first property, the
American Dream come true.