by Rise of Hope
“Seth…”
The men forced him to his knees and stepped back, forming a half circle around him, their stances tense, ready. His hands were secured somehow behind his back and there was a cut on his forehead, a trickle of blood down one cheek. Despite all the weapons pointed at him, he didn’t look at any of them.
“Devon,” he rasped, his gaze finding and locking onto hers. “You okay?”
She nodded. She was fairly certain they wouldn’t hurt her, but Seth… Who knew? He’d feel accountable for her, he’d feel obligated, she was a job to him after all. Even after what she’d done to him, after what she’d made him do, he’d somehow managed to find her, was still trying to protect her.
Lance nodded to one of the men standing next to Seth. The man put his weapon aside, stepped forward and her throat went chalk dry. Now she was going to be responsible for whatever they did to him, would be forced to watch.
“Please… Please don’t hurt him.”
But the man merely wrenched Seth’s shirt open all the way down the front and spread it wide, then shook his head at Lance.
“I’ll never try to escape again.” She took a hiccupping breath, her throat stinging, her eyes burning, the pressure in her chest almost more than she could stand. “I promise, never…”
“Devon, don’t bargain with them. Not for me.”
She had no idea how Seth had found her, or how they’d found him. And the others? She’d brought this on him, maybe on all of them. She’d been the cause of all of it simply because she’d wanted a taste of freedom. And answers, just answers.
“Seth, I’m so sorry.”
She could say it a thousand times, a million, and it still wouldn’t make her feel better, wouldn’t make any of it better.
“It seems you’re expendable, Mr. Eastman,” Lance said. “That’s very unfortunate. For you.”
“I swear,” she choked out. “You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll do whatever you want, go wherever you want, but let him go.”
“Devon, no,” Seth groaned. “They’ll kill me anyway, they can’t risk leaving me alive.”
Oh God.
He was right. She knew he was. How could they just let him go? They couldn’t, wouldn’t.
Devon shook her head. “No. I’ll make sure of it.” She’d done it as a last resort, amazed at her forethought. She’d hoped she’d never have to use it, but she wouldn’t let them hurt Seth and there might not be another chance.
“Now!” she screamed.
Suddenly the guard closest to her grabbed her, wrapped one large, rough hand around her neck and dragged her back against him. He did it with so much force it almost knocked the breath out of her. It was difficult not to react, not to instinctively fight, but she resisted the urge with everything in her. Then swallowed at the cold metal of the gun when it pressed hard to her temple.
“Devon,” Seth choked.
Seth had been confident on that mountainside that they wouldn’t do anything to risk hitting her. She hoped that still held true.
“Let Seth go. Now,” she demanded. “Or…he blows my head off.”
“Devon, no.”
She tried to ignore Seth as he attempted to surge to his feet, but he was shoved down again. And the guns. They were all still pointed at him.
“I mean it,” she warned.
“I can see that,” Lance said, his voice even, calm, his gaze centered on her.
Ah, so now she had his attention.
“There’s no need for all of this,” he continued. “Let’s discuss it. Rationally.”
“You’ve given me no choice,” she forced out.
“There are always choices, Devon,” he said matter-of-factly.
Yeah, there are, so here goes.
“Let Seth go and I’ll go with you. Willingly. Promise me you won’t hurt him. Please.”
She’d tried to be forceful, strong, but the last word slipped out before she could pull it back. She’d beg if she had to, she’d be glad to, she just didn’t think it would make a difference.
“Really, Devon.”
The deep voice came from her left and with the way the guard held her, she couldn’t turn toward it. But she didn’t need to. She’d know that voice anywhere, had heard the same patronizing tone almost every day of her life.
It was him.
The man she’d sought attention from, approval from, and as a lonely child, the man she’d wanted to hold her, to take her in his arms and just hold her, even if it was only once. And the man she’d called “Daddy” up until five years ago.
How she’d wanted him to love her more than anything in the world. All that time she’d planned her escape, she’d wondered if she’d ever see him again, wondered if he’d feel anything when she was gone. And she’d wondered whether she’d even care.
She thought there’d be pain, betrayal, a cutting hurt, but as he stepped cautiously into her line of sight, anything she might have felt paled and faded into the background. He looked the same—elegant, polished, distant. It had been a façade—her childhood, her life, her entire existence—for so long. It hadn’t been where she belonged, where she was meant to be. She knew that now.
She took a deep, steadying breath. It was useless to dwell on what might have been, futile at this point to focus on the past when the here and now was staring her in the face. There wasn’t room for anything but Seth and the depth and intensity of what she felt for him. It overrode anything and everything, wouldn’t allow her to waste her emotions on anything else.
“Make no mistake,” she spat at Monroe. “I will have him shoot me and then your precious commodity will be no more.”
A muscle twitched near his eye. Displeasure, extreme displeasure. Once she would have cowered under the hint of it. Now she was glad she’d finally managed to command his attention. As an equal.
“I really was very fond of you, Devon.”
Fond? She almost choked on the thought. Once, she would have done anything for a single, simple sign of approval from him and he’d been fond of her? But at least now she knew. She couldn’t care less if she never saw him again.
“Perhaps we made a miscalculation,” he drawled, his eyes narrowing on her. “You seem as if you’ve accepted all of this remarkably well.” He paused, sighed. “All right then.”
She shivered at the “we.” It sounded so ominous, so menacing and the quick acceptance too good to be true. But maybe, just maybe, she could actually pull this off.
“You’ll let him go. Unharmed.”
“Devon, no,” Seth raged. “You’d do this knowing you’re sentencing me to a life living with the knowledge that I failed to protect you?”
What choice do I have?
She looked over at Seth, met his dark gaze. “I’m not your responsibility. And at least you’ll have a life.”
* * *
That’s where she was wrong, on both counts. God, he’d have no life without her, didn’t want a life without her, not now. Too bad he’d never had a chance to tell her that, to tell her any of what he’d been feeling. And now? Forced to look at her, a gun at her head? Bargaining for his life with her own? Maybe he never would.
Nothing The Assembly had done so far suggested they were stupid. Devon might not realize it, but the chances of him walking out of here were practically nil. If they did let him go? He’d never give up, he’d be unrelenting, searching the ends of the earth, using any means he could, doing whatever he needed, to find her. Nothing and no one would stop him.
He’d played it all wrong. He’d rushed off half cocked as soon as Christian had confirmed her location. They hadn’t been able to stop him, they hadn’t dared. Now he wished he’d taken the time, regrouped with the guys. He hoped like hell they weren’t far behind and that they were on board with the “plan” he’d ye
lled at them, because he hadn’t stuck around to wait for a confirmation. At least they could try to get Devon to safety.
“Let—let him come to me first.”
Seth’s gut clenched at how her voice wavered. He stood up when the hired muscle stepped back, keeping their weapons trained on him. He walked to her slowly, not taking his eyes from hers. Damn, she looked so scared and with his hands bound behind him, he couldn’t even touch her.
He flicked a quick look at the guard at her back. He could see the force with which the guy gripped her neck and he clenched his teeth with the effort it took not to charge at him, get him the hell away from her. Jesus, what genius had her making herself her own hostage? He’d give anything in that moment to ensure she was safe, except he didn’t have a thing to bargain with. They didn’t want him, didn’t seem to give a fuck about him.
“He’ll shoot you if I try to take him out, won’t he?” Seth pitched his voice low, tried to keep it steady.
“Yes.”
“You could tell him not to.”
“No. Seth, I—”
“Shh.” It tore him up inside to see her like this—terrified, threatened, forced to do the unthinkable. He’d never felt so helpless before. Ever.
She reached out and touched his cheek. With the way her hands were bound, she used the back of one hand. He leaned into her, it was all he could do, so that she’d know he was touching her back.
Her gaze flickered to his.
“I loved knowing you, Seth.”
His stomach clenched in a sharp jolt.
“Even though I…” She broke off and swallowed. “I loved being with you, you know, before…”
Where the fuck is Micah? The past tense she was using was starting to freak him out.
“I think I loved you,” she whispered.
“Devon.”
A tremor went through him at her words and his heart slammed hard against his rib cage.
She took a deep breath. “You’ll know I was sorry for everything I did, but you will leave this place when they let you go. You won’t feel guilty, you won’t blame yourself, you won’t try to find me, but you will leave.”
Seth braced himself as realization struck at what she’d done, determined to resist, to fight, whatever he needed to do, knowing the power she could wield. But there was nothing. He registered the words, heard the commands, but didn’t feel the slightest compulsion. Nothing.
And that’s when he knew. For whatever reason, her ability didn’t work on him.
Seth heard the commotion behind him before the outer door slammed open again.
Thank God.
“Micah,” Devon cried out. “No.”
Seth turned as two more men hauled a struggling Micah in and he took the opportunity to step back away from her. Already he regretted the loss of contact. It was likely the last time he’d ever feel her touch and the knowledge ate at him, tore a hole right through him.
“Ah, we have another uninvited guest,” Lance drawled.
“Someone start the party without me?” Micah asked. He looked like they’d roughed him up some, but he was smiling, the idiot. The guy really had a warped sense of humor.
At Lance’s signal, the man ripped Micah’s shirt open.
Shit.
What the hell were they looking for? The marks were visible above their jeans, but that didn’t appear to be it. They didn’t seem to even look at them. Wires, maybe? Were they looking for wires?
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “One who is also expendable.”
Seth glanced at Micah, their eyes met and Micah blinked. It was a slight movement, so slight no one else probably caught it, but it was a signal nonetheless. And just what he was waiting for.
Seth immediately changed, morphing into one of the men who’d brought him in. He gasped at the surge of energy that whipped through him. The guards all stepped back, raised their weapons, their expressions telegraphing their confusion, their disbelief, especially the one who looked like he’d seen a ghost. Then he changed into another, and another, until he was cycling through the four men who’d touched him so far.
Seth held his breath. He sensed Micah’s readiness as if it was tangible, saw the muscles of his thighs bunch in anticipation. His jaw set and without hesitation, Micah launched himself toward Devon, his eyes on his target, completely focused, utterly determined. Seth winced when Micah’s big body slammed onto the hard concrete floor and slid along the rough surface.
He saw Devon’s shock. Her eyes lifted to his, wide, dark. She went to open her mouth and Seth’s heart jumped into his throat, but Micah had timed it perfectly. It was a fucking brilliant maneuver as he grabbed hard onto Devon’s ankle. And then they were gone.
Safe. She was safe.
Seth closed his eyes and let out the breath he’d been holding. He braced himself amidst the shouts and confusion of the guards, settling back into his own form, as their collective anger and frustration focused on him. As well as all the guns.
He owed Micah more than he could ever repay. All of them. He owed all of them. For all the things he’d ever said. For everything he never had. He hoped they knew how much he appreciated what they’d done because chances were, he’d never get the opportunity to tell them.
* * *
Devon materialized in Noah’s office. She fell to the floor after Micah immediately released her, landing on her hands and knees. He stepped back out of her reach.
“What have you done?” she cried, barely able to form the words.
He’d left Seth behind. He’d grabbed her and left Seth.
“We have her,” Noah snapped into his cell.
How could they? “Micah—”
“Our priority was you, Devon,” Micah forced through tight lips, his breathing labored. “Only you. Seth was very specific about that.”
“No. No. Micah, please, you get him, you—”
“Quiet.” He closed his eyes, swallowed. “I need to focus. I have to reappear in just the right…”
“Oh God, Micah please…”
But it was useless. He was already gone.
She barely had time to stand up, hold out her hands for Noah to cut the ties binding them, before they were back, Seth and Micah, both of them slamming hard against the far wall with a loud crash. Pictures fell, glass shattered, the whole room seemed to reverberate with the force.
Seth stumbled, righted himself, and grabbed a pale-looking Micah before he would have fallen to the floor.
“I told you to forget about me,” Seth roared. “To not risk it. Dammit, Micah.”
“Yeah,” Micah coughed. “But it’s done now.” He straightened, pushed Seth’s hands aside when he gained his footing. “We’d never leave one of our own. Never. You should have known that.”
Devon shivered at the intensity that permeated the room with Micah’s words. She’d never given much thought to the bond these men might have, but it was there, and it was strong. Maybe unbreakable.
“We have them. Both of them,” Noah bit out into the phone. “Get your ass back here in one piece.” He shoved the phone into his pocket. “Christian’s clear. He should be here in fifteen.”
“I owe you,” Seth breathed, dividing his gaze between Noah and Micah.
Noah nodded.
“Yeah,” Micah coughed again.
“Anything. Anytime. I owe you, but not for me.” Seth looked over at her, his gaze locking onto hers and everything in her went still. “For her.”
He walked toward her. Each step he took forward, she took one back, until there was nowhere else to go, her back literally against the wall. Her heart slammed against her rib cage, the sound of the blood roaring in her ears deafening.
“You ran from me.”
She swallowed at the pulse ticking in his temple and t
he sheer savagery in his dark eyes. His voice might have been quiet—deadly quiet—but it was that much more menacing because of it.
“You put yourself in danger,” he forced out.
She licked her dry lips.
“You dare try to use your gift against me? Me? Goddammit, Devon. You still want to know who you are to me? Do you? You’re mine. Mine. And if you ever, ever put yourself at risk like that again, especially for me, I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do. Do you hear me?”
Devon flinched. She’d never seen anyone so angry before, so livid in their fury, so at the end of their control. Despite all that, she knew without a doubt he’d never hurt her. Ever.
“I think everyone can hear you,” she managed, despite the trembling she hadn’t been able to make stop.
The guys were making no effort to hide their interest, although Noah looked like he was poised to interfere at any moment.
“Fuck it,” Seth muttered as if he’d only now remembered they were still there. “I need some time.” He gave her one last heated look before storming out of the room.
Devon let out a long, shuddering sigh and went to go after him, but Micah reached out, stopping her.
“Let him get some of it out of his system first.”
He was probably right, Seth needed time, but God, there were things she needed to say. She couldn’t even begin to know how, but she had to try. Somehow.
She glanced down at the hand on her arm. Micah had touched her willingly, had placed his fingers against her bare skin, kept them there. He knew what she could do, but he’d still made himself vulnerable and she didn’t think he was a man to do that lightly.
“Thank you,” she managed, swallowing against the lump in her throat. She had no other words, didn’t know how to express what she was feeling. She hoped he knew, had an idea at least. He nodded once and released her.
Noah stepped to her then, put a rough palm against the curve of her cheek and she shivered at the warmth of it.
Touch. Again. The contact was light, but she felt the tremor in his hand. It was a deliberate gesture, one she couldn’t mistake. Or ignore.
“Devon, I…”
She frowned. Hesitation wasn’t something she would have associated with Noah and she looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. His face was hard angles, harsh lines. There was weariness stamped across his features, but it was his eyes that held her attention. They were shadowed, but a blue-grey color she’d seen countless times before, looking back at her. Whenever she looked into a mirror.
