There are millions of people in the world, and one person can make you feel a full spectrum of emotions. Devlin makes me feel vengeance, resentment, desire, protection, and something even more deadly—love. The kind of love that’s inevitable. You can’t help but allow it to consume you. It’s a love that doesn’t need rules, because it’s fate written in the stars.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, staring past the bars of the cell without seeing them. “I love him.”
Devlin challenged me, making me feel something other than the crushing weight of my life. I was happy with him, and now that it’s gone, there’s a gaping hole missing in my life.
I love him.
The bang of the door down the hall makes me jump, startled out of my ill-timed revelation. For a minute, my gut churns with worry that I’m about to get a cellmate. I wait, braced for a tweaked out drug addict or an angry drunk, but no one comes.
Putting my face in my hands, I sigh raggedly. My heart unfurls, giving off faint twinges of the hurt it suffered. I’m equally responsible for the pain I’ve forced myself through by running away instead of facing what my heart has known for a while.
The question is, if I call, will he come? He might not bully me in school, but I’ve sensed something intense in the way his gaze tracks me.
Well, if he hates me, tough shit. I need him, even if I’m still mad. Trusting Devlin is a risk worth taking.
What? I can admit I love him, want to trust him, and still be pissed at him. A wry smile tugs at my lips as I scrape my fingers through my hair.
“What a hot mess.” Hopping to my feet, I grasp the cold bars trapping me and peer at the door. I stick my arm through the gaps and wave, hoping the camera feed above the door will alert the unobservant guards I need them. “Hey! Anyone there? Hellooo!”
It takes ten minutes, but finally the door clangs open. I drop my burning arm, grateful to rest it. A portly officer in uniform strolls down the row of holding cells with a sandwich clutched in his stubby fingers.
Leaning against the bars, I lift my brows. “Can I get my phone call?”
The officer chews for a long minute, eyeing me up and down. “That’s only in the movies. I don’t have to let you use the phone.”
My jaw drops in surprise. “Uh…please?”
The urge to cover myself is strong, my lace bra snagging this guy’s attention. I straighten my spine instead, willing him to do me a solid.
“Yeah, okay. Come on.” Jangling the keys, he unlocks the cell with a metallic clang that sounds like freedom.
Somehow, when I step over the threshold to the other side of the bars, I feel lighter.
The officer on duty leads me down the hall with a greasy grasp on my elbow. “Do you have the number memorized?”
My heart stutters, but then it’s okay. By some miracle, I do have Devlin’s number memorized from the early days of our deal, before I programmed him into my phone.
“Yep.”
The maze from the row of holding cells filters into a bullpen of desks in the center of a big room with two offices at the back.
“Okay, kid. Here you go.” He waves a desk phone at me and props it on a filing cabinet. “Call your Mom.”
“Thanks.” A tremor of anxious anticipation travels through my fingers as I dial. Each ring has me sinking my teeth deeper into my lip. “Pick up…pick up…”
“Who is this?”
I nearly cry out in relief at his deep, curt voice. “Devlin.”
The line is quiet for a beat. “Blair?”
“Yeah.” My clammy palms slip on the phone, pulse fluttering. I crush the receiver to my ear. “Um, hi.”
“Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me now, I’m coming to get you. Christ, I’ve been trying to find you.”
Emotion clogs my throat. “You have?”
Was it his Porsche I heard earlier in the night after all? We’re like magnets, at odds with each other when we’re flipped the wrong way, then undeniably drawn together when we’re righted.
“Yes. Tell me where you are.”
“I’m downtown. At, uh, the police station. Can you bail me out?”
Devlin curses. “I’m coming for you, little thief.”
Air rushes from my lungs at his words. My world realigns, snapping everything into its rightful place. “Thank you.”
Forty-Three
Devlin
The stars aren’t helping tonight. They haven’t in days. I’m beginning to think the one ritual I have finally lost the spark keeping me going. I sit on the roof to escape the empty, cavernous house, but it’s not stopping the slow bleed out of my heart. The damn thing hasn’t stopped oozing life since Blair walked out.
At first I was angry, because she left, and because I didn’t stop her.
Despair crept in like shadows as soon as she packed up her books and walked out with that shitty duffel bag weighing her down. The rest of her stuff is here, stopping me like tiny grenades whenever I find something of hers.
The first few days, all I could think was how Blair was just like the others, ready to run away once she got to know the real me because I’m too hard to love underneath my mask.
A plume of smoke rushes past my lips on my exhale. I flick the end of the cigarette with my thumb, not in the mood to smoke it. The nicotine isn’t numbing the constant dull thrum of pain.
I keep thinking I’ll walk through the lounge or the bedroom and find her miraculously back, reading one of her books. Sleeping has become impossible. I’m lucky if I catch a few hours a night, if I can rest at all.
Somehow, it’s easy to grow used to sharing a bed, so when you’re faced with empty, cold sheets, the absence is palpable.
It’s taken everything in me not to stalk up to her in school and kiss her. Today she kept peering over when she thought I wasn’t looking. The agitation stiffening her shoulders called to me, begging me to go take her worries away.
I’m so sick of this. Sick of holding back, of living the way I am, closed off from everyone. It doesn’t quell the disappointment or soften the blow.
For too long, I’ve used this excuse, pretending it made me better than my demons. But it does jack shit to protect me. In the end, I’m still alone and forgotten.
My lips pull to the side in a grimace as I put out the cigarette.
I fucked up by thinking I could just have Blair so easily without addressing how we started in the first place.
The boxes hiding everything I’ve locked up are breaking down, the visceral pain seeping out.
My fingers itch to comb through silky, soft, vanilla-scented hair. Her scent faded from my sheets and I’ve taken to walking around with a small bottle of her shampoo in my pocket. I take it out when things become too much, inhaling it while I picture her deep brown eyes, her lips, the way she fit so fucking perfectly in my arms.
“Goddamn it,” I mutter.
This raw, aching feeling plaguing me like a disease sucks and I’m done.
Fuck this distrust my parents bred into me. I’m finished with it. I won’t let it rule me anymore. Not when it could make me lose the one good thing in my life.
I know who will make it stop and it’s about damn time I go get her. Wallowing won’t bring her back. I need to go see her.
Rising to my feet, I send a wild yell to the sky. My throat is dry, scratchy with disuse. I pant, rubbing at the tender bags of exhaustion beneath my puffy eyes.
My breath is short as I climb through the window. Every nerve in my body spurs me on.
The abstract things I wish for when I look at the stars? I find it when I’m with her.
For the first time in years, I’ve realized I need to chase someone rather than accept being forgotten. I want to fight for my love with Blair because her heart is where I want to make my home. Even if she won’t accept my love, I just need to tell her how I feel. If I don’t, the decay eating at my heart is going to kill me.
* * *
Blair’s trailer was empty when I got there. Worry niggled at m
e when I saw her car parked out front. I drove around town all night, searching. She wasn’t at the hospital, the library, or any of the places I sped past.
Bishop checked in to let me know he hadn’t found her after I recruited him to help.
I thought I saw her as I cruised down the main street in town, but it was crowded with holiday shoppers and the girl disappeared.
When my phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize, I was skeptical, but thank god I picked up and heard her voice on the line.
I break about four different traffic laws to get to the station. It’s part of the collection of older buildings in town, the architecture from the Gold Rush era that swept the region.
As I wait for Blair to be brought out, I head for the police chief’s office.
“He’s out for the night.” A night duty officer with mustard smeared on his collar tips his head at the dim office with glass walls at the back of the room.
“Fine, I’ll call him, then.” I nearly smirk at the bug-eyed expression the officer gives me. I press the phone to my ear. “He’s a close friend of my uncle’s.”
Uncle Ed brought Lucas and I to the station plenty of times when we were kids. The police chief was a lieutenant then.
Chief Landry picks up on the second ring as I make my way back to the front of the station to wait for Blair. “Yeah? You’re interrupting my dinner, so make it quick.”
“It’s Devlin Murphy. Edward Saint’s nephew.”
“Devlin!” His voice turns jovial. “How are you, son? I hear the Coyotes varsity soccer team did well this season.”
“Yeah. Listen, my girlfr—someone important to me was picked up tonight. I’m at the station to bail her out, but I want to know what I can do to ensure the charge doesn’t go on her permanent record.” I lower my voice, glancing around to check that no one hears. “Whatever I have to do.”
I’ve never been more thankful for Bishop’s cutthroat interest in blackmail as I am in this moment. He dug up an interesting rumor surrounding the police chief’s promotion from his previous rank. Ridgeview’s top dog will do favors for the right price.
It doesn’t matter that Blair hurt me by leaving. I’ll fight for her and give her anything she desires. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she doesn’t want to leave again.
“Oh, the girl I picked up on Red Hill Road?” His tone turns knowing.
My heart skips a beat and I suck in a sharp breath. Red Hill? It’s where hookers pick up their customers. Fuck. Blair, what were you thinking taking a risk like that? Depraved old men prowl that dark street and girls are known to disappear. Some sleaze could’ve got his hands on her and—
I cut off my circling thoughts. “Yes. Her.”
“She seems like a good kid. I didn’t make it an official arrest. I was going to let her go in the morning.”
Relief floods my system. “Well, consider the bail I posted a generous donation to keep it like that.”
Chief Landry chuckles. “You’re just like your dad. Tell your uncle I said I’ll see him at poker night.”
The line goes dead. Frowning, I shove the phone back in my pocket. Being compared to my dad isn’t a glowing compliment.
Blair appears through a clear partition, accepting a bag of her things before she’s allowed through the door. It takes all of my control not to gape at her skimpy outfit—the sheer top with little dots giving the perfect teasing view of her lacy black bra. We stare at each other for a beat. My fingers twitch with the urge to yank her against my chest and never let her go.
“Let’s get out of here.” Blair glances at the cops with a tiny frown and starts for the door.
Outside, the crisp winter air gusts through the valley. Blair shivers, her arms breaking out in goosebumps. She shrugs into her cardigan, wrapping it around herself and covering the tempting view of her body.
I unlock Red, parked in front of the station, and open the passenger door. Glancing up, I find Blair clomping down the sidewalk toward the bus station.
“Blair. Where are you going?”
She pauses, half-turning. An expression of longing lingers on her face when she finds me holding her door open, waiting for her. She worries her lip and gestures behind her.
“I took the bus into town.”
“I know, I saw your car when I went to your place.”
“You did?”
I close the distance between us and buff her upper arms when she shudders from the cold. “I told you, angel. I’ve been looking for you all night. There’s so much I need to tell you.”
Everything in me screams to take away the sadness in Blair’s expression. She leans into my touch, making a small sound. A hint of vanilla tingles in my nose.
“Let me give you a ride.”
Blair drags her teeth over her lip. “Okay.”
Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I walk her back to the car. When I get in, I blast the heat and click on the seat warmers. Blair blows breath on her hands and shoots me a grateful look.
“Thanks, it’s cold as shit in the holding cell.”
A short laugh barks out of me. “Little criminal.”
“The real deal now.”
“You were always the real deal.” I lift my brow as I rev the engine. “This time you got caught.”
Conflict twists Blair’s features. “They didn’t say anything about coming back for a court date.”
“They won’t.”
Her head snaps to me. “What do you mean?”
“I know the chief. He’s good friends with Uncle Ed. I called him before you came out. It wasn’t official, so it’s not going on your record. He said he wasn’t going to hold you.”
Relief melts her features as she falls back against the leather seat. “Thank god.”
Now that I have her with me, safe in the car, the wave of protectiveness surges. I allow a few minutes to pass before I can’t hold it in any longer. “Why’d you do it?”
Blair fiddles with her bitten nails. “Get arrested?”
“Come on, Blair. Don’t play with me. What you did was dangerous.”
She scoffs. “Walking on the street at night? Every woman lives that reality.”
I grip the wheel tighter. “Yes, but you went out looking for trouble by walking down Red Hill Road. You’re lucky it was Chief Landry and not some sick fuck who kidnaps hookers—”
“Sex workers,” Blair interrupts to correct.
God, I’ve missed her fight. “Fine. My point stands.”
“Fine.” Blair sighs. “I don’t want to fight about it.”
“I don’t want to either.” Keeping my hands to myself is a challenge when all I want to do is put my hand on her thigh, to touch her and feel that she’s okay. “Sorry. Just…tell me why you did it?”
“I had to.” She shifts in her seat to peer at my profile while I drive. “My mom’s health isn’t great. It’s worse than when I moved in with you.”
“I thought she was discharged?”
“She was, but the medications they prescribed are hard to afford without insurance.” Blair tucks her hair behind an ear. “I took what I had saved and took her to this clinic I’ve been talking to. She’s there now, but the money you gave me isn’t enough. The clinic is…expensive.”
A band locks around my chest. “Clinic? New Horizons?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
Well, shit. Blair took Macy to the best medical clinic in the country—the one my parents are famous for starting.
“Don’t worry. About any of it, okay?”
“Devlin, I can’t. We still have the debt from my dad, and insurance companies won’t accept my mom’s condition as insurable.”
“That clinic is my parents’. I’ll take care of it. Please, let me help.”
A shaky breath hisses through her teeth. “But…I don’t want to be a charity case.”
“Please, Blair.” This is the right thing to do. “Look, you can pay me back. How’s that? Deal?”
She appears pr
epared to keep protesting like the stubborn little spitfire I love.
“I just want to take care of you.”
“Okay,” Blair murmurs. “Thank you. For coming to get me, and for your help.”
Licking my lips, I admit one of the things I need to tell her. “I’d chase you anywhere, Blair. I don’t exist without you.”
Her breath hitches and her eyes widen. There’s something different shining in them. “Devlin…”
I squash the urge to hide the moment of vulnerability behind a shroud. Instead, I let her see the raw parts of me when I give her an open look.
Blair works herself up, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry for what I said about your parents.” With a hesitant motion, she reaches across and presses her fingers to my shoulder. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” My voice comes out hoarse. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel like that. I was an asshole.” I hold my hand out, offering it to her to take. She glances down. “If you want. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I’m crazy about you and I want us to be together.”
Blair grasps my hand tightly. Her touch is like a balm to my raw soul. It’s the first I’ve felt grounded in days. A rough sound leaves me and Blair makes an answering soft sound as she clutches my hand.
In a gruff voice, I ask, “Where to?”
“Hmm?”
With my other hand resting on top of the wheel, I gesture a few lights ahead. One direction takes us up the mountain and the other winds through the valley toward the trailer park.
“Home.” The piercing look she sends my way tugs at my heartstrings.
“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Blair.”
She squeezes my hand. “I mean it. I don’t want to be alone tonight. Home is when I’m with you.”
A soft smile curves my lips. My fractured stone heart fuses back together one jagged edge at a time. “Okay. Home it is.”
Forty-Four
Devlin
It’s surreal when we get back to the house. My hand hovers at the small of Blair’s back as we enter through the garage. It’s something we’ve done a hundred times when she lived with me, leaving a bittersweet twinge in my bones.
Tempting Devil: Sinners and Saints Book 2 Page 28
