CHAPTER ONE
DECLAN
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I never imagined I’d find myself back in Blue Haven, my small hometown in Delaware. As a special operative, the thought of settling down in one place felt foreign—especially here. Since leaving at eighteen, I’d only returned for short visits, never with any intention of staying. That changed four years ago when my mother fell ill. I came back to spend time with her and somehow guilted into planting roots in the town I once couldn’t wait to leave.
I’ve seen the world and traveled all over the country. I lived a life far removed from Blue Haven. At nineteen, I took a job working for Jeffery Westbrook at his construction company in Portland, Oregon, when I wasn’t on missions with the Navy SEALs. It was later revealed he was really Dillon Magarelli, the alleged mafia boss of the New Jersey crime family.
Despite his reputation, I still talked to him whenever he came to town. Dillon valued loyalty and trust, and because of my time working for him, he knew I was reliable. He also knew I was from Delaware and offered me a job at one of his Newark, New Jersey construction sites so I could be closer to home. Even though at the time I hadn’t planned to move back to Blue Haven. The move allowed me to see my family a little more.
Dillon respected my SEALs background and hinted that he might need my skills someday. I also told him about my role with the Ravens Motorcycle Club, where I served as vice president and enforcer. Dillon wasn’t bothered by it.
Hassle Raven, the club’s president, and I had been best friends since childhood. He founded the original chapter in Portland and thrives on the West Coast.
Since I agreed to stay in Blue Haven, I started a chapter of the Ravens.
If any evil men try to set up shop in my town, they answer to me and my brothers of the Ravens motorcycle club. The only person making deals in this town is me.
If it’s not obvious by now, I like to stay busy. In my downtime, I entertain women when I’m at my condo in New Jersey. Dillon once asked if I’d ever considered settling down. I told him the truth: with all the blood on my hands, I’m not looking for a white-picket-fence kind of life.
I’m fine being on my own. Always have been. I’m a loner by nature. Sure, a few of my ex-girlfriends still live in town, and a couple of them might still carry a torch for me. But I’m not interested in rekindling old flames. A quick roll in the sack and walking away is how I prefer things. It keeps life simple.
My family, the Kings, founded this town from nothing and it has been passed down through generations. The shop owners lease their buildings from us, and we own the hotel, the corporate office building, the bar, and the restaurant. When I’m in town, I take charge of running the bar. It’s where all the shady characters seem to gravitate, trying to make deals. For me, it’s the perfect place to keep order and ensure this town stays clean.
Gliding a red towel across the polished mahogany surface of the bar, I glance toward the door just as it opens. A woman steps inside, her face partially shadowed by the brim of a black Georgia football cap. She pauses, her eyes scanning the room, then moves toward the bar with hesitant, measured steps.
For a Thursday evening around eight, the atmosphere is decent. Blue Haven is a tourist town, so there’s always a steady stream of newcomers mingling with the regulars. Tonight, most of the tall tables are occupied, while the low tops sit empty for now. To the left, double doors lead to the restaurant; to the right, three pool tables and a dartboard host small groups of players.
The woman slips into one of the empty barstools at the far end, just to my right. Her body language screams that she wants to be left alone. She sits hunched, arms drawn close, as if seeking some form of inner sanctuary. I recognize that look all too well; it brings back memories I’d rather forget. Memories of a failed mission. One where I lost several of my men. Pushing those thoughts aside, I make my way towards her.
“Hello, what can I get for you, darlin?” I ask.
She lifts her head, and for a moment, I’m frozen. Long dark lashes frame caramel eyes that lock onto mine. My breath catches.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
Her brows furrow, and she glances over her shoulder nervously. “What? Is something wrong?”
Clearly, she’s running from someone.
“No,” I say quickly, struggling to keep my composure. What am I supposed to say? You’re fucking beautiful?
It’s not like I haven’t slept with beautiful women before. But I rarely date - I prefer to cut through any potential complications and just get right to it.
“What are you drinking?” I inquire, keeping my voice even.
“Water,” she says softly, a small smile lifting her pecan-colored cheeks.
I plant my hands on the bar and study her. “Normally, I’d tell you that you have to buy a drink, but tonight I’ll make an exception and start you off with water.”
She lowers her head again before meeting my gaze once more. “I don’t have much money - trying to hold on to everything I have.”
My chest tightens, an unfamiliar sensation spreading through me. What the fuck is going on? Clearing my throat, I nod.
Whatever is happening with me because of this woman has to stop.
“Water coming up.”
Steve, one of the regulars sitting a few stools down, arches a brow over his beer glass. I catch his smirk and point at him with the towel.
“Don’t you start,” I warn.
He chuckles. “Looks like there’s a first time for everything.”
Ignoring him, I bring the glass of water over to the woman and place it in front of her. “So what brings you to Blue Haven?”
She takes a sip, her plump lips pressing against the rim. Before she can answer, a woman at the back pool tables lets out a loud cheer. The sudden noise startles her, and she flinches, clutching the glass tighter.
The woman is so jumpy. Something is severely fucked up here. Great, of all the nights I work at the bar, trouble falls into my lap.
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “A new start,” she whispers.
My icy heart rams into my ribcage again. I’m in fucking trouble.
She gulps half the water, still clutching a weathered gray backpack strapped to her shoulders. Her thin black jacket offers little protection against the biting winter air outside.
She places the half empty glass back on the bar.
“My name’s Declan King. What’s yours?”
“Meridea,” she says softly. “Just Meridea.”
Yup, she’s definitely hiding from someone.
“Meridea, take a look at the menu,” I say, sliding it toward her.
She shakes her head. “I can’t afford anything here. I’ll grab a bag of chips and a candy bar from the store I passed down the street. I only came in here to get warm. I’ll find someplace to lay my head tonight, and tomorrow… I’ll look for work.” Her eyes flick briefly toward the restaurant, as if considering it.
I’m flooded with questions. Where did she come from? Why did she end up here?
“We don’t have a motel in this town,” I tell her. “Just the hotel.”
Her gaze snaps back to mine, sharp and defiant. “I’ve got fifty bucks to my name. Do you think I can afford to stay at a hotel?” she bites out.
She runs a hand down her long, dark ponytail and sighs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just been a long day.”
My chest tightens and my jaw twitches because now I want to curl my hands around the person’s neck who forced her to be homeless.
“You’re going to pick a meal off the menu,” I say firmly, sliding a small order pad in front of her. “And write down your sizes—from your shirt to your boots. When I’m done here, you’re leaving with me. You’ll stay at my house. No funny business. You’ll have the guest room.”
I don’t add the part where she can leave when she gets back on her feet. Mostly because I have no intention of letting her leave. Great—I sound like a damn kidnapper.
What the fuck?
“You don’t know me. I’m a stranger and you’re a stranger too. Is it normal for you to take women home?” Steve chuckles again, knowing that I never bring anyone back to my house in Blue Haven.
“No,” I growl, shooting Steve a glare before focusing back on her.
“Declan, I’ll manage on the street,” Meridea insists.
“It’s not up for discussion, Meridea. I’ll take care of everything. Now tell me what you want to eat.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Thank you.”
I am officially done for. There’s no way I’ll let her go. Once she’s settled, she’ll tell me who she’s running from and I’ll fucking end them myself.