My Beautiful Sin

by J. Kenner

  “The team,” I repeat. On the one hand, I’m fascinated. On the other, I’m repulsed.

  Mostly, I’m drowning. And Devlin’s proximity doesn’t make it any easier to process all of this. How can it when I’m reeling, and all I want is for the man I love to hold me while I work it out? But he’s the man who knocked me asunder in the first place, and I’ve completely lost my anchor.

  “So … what exactly does this team do? Are you guns for hire?”

  “Sometimes,” he says. “Not with Myers.”

  “Right. Of course.” His short, to-the-point answers are starting to piss me off. I know it’s his way of letting me pull out the truth at my own pace, but what I want is a battle. A fight.

  “You already told me that, didn’t you? He was released and you didn’t think it was right. And so the great Devlin Saint decided to render justice.”

  “And you know why,” he says. “You met Sue. You know what that child went through. And her mother. You talked with Laura. You know how broken that family is now. Broken, but at least they have the chance to heal. How many other families did he rip that chance away from?”

  “That doesn’t make what you did right.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “You aren’t a god,” I say. “You aren’t even a saint. You’re just a man and you can’t play judge, jury, and executioner.”

  “Not always, no. But in some cases…”

  “No,” I say firmly.

  He meets my eyes. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree.”

  “Damn you, Devlin,” I say, my voice hard and tight like a whip. I want to strike him. To hurt him. “You’ve destroyed everything. Everything.”

  What I don’t say is that he’s destroyed me most of all. Because it’s not the secret of the video that has gutted me, or even this horrible truth about what he does or this team of vigilantes he does it with.

  That’s bad, but what’s worse is the deception. Because despite revealing himself at the tide pool—despite telling me he loved me—Devlin Saint never really showed me his secrets at all.

  There will always be secrets between us, he’d said, and I shiver with the memory, my heart aching. Things I’m not willing to talk about. Not ever. You should have stayed away, he’d warned me. I’m a dangerous bet.

  I let the memory wash over me, my body ice cold, like someone looking down into their own grave, for the first time acknowledging the inevitable darkness to come. Then I meet his eyes. “You were right,” I say, lifting my chin. “You were a dangerous bet. And it looks like I lost.”

  He shakes his head. “This isn’t over. You need time to think. I get that. You want more answers. I get that, too. But I know we’re not done.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  His tilts his head so that he’s looking me straight in the eye. “I know you once said that the only way I could lose you was if I was the one walking way. But I’m not walking anywhere.”

  My chest tightens, but I don’t say anything.

  “I know you still trust me,” he continues “And I know that’s a start.”

  “I don’t,” I say.

  He turns and walks through the bedroom door, then pauses to look back at me. “Lie to me all you want, but don’t lie to yourself.”

  Then he’s gone, and I’m left standing there cursing him because he’s right. I do trust him.

  But that doesn’t mean I know what to do now.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “And you just walked away,” Ronan said, pacing in front of Devlin’s desk. “Walked away and left her there?”

  Devlin rubbed his temples and looked up at his friend. He’d called both Ronan and Reggie after leaving Ellie’s house. He was certain El wouldn’t do anything—wouldn’t confront them, wouldn’t tell Lamar or any other troublemaking official—but they still deserved the courtesy of knowing that the veil had been lifted.

  That’s what he’d thought when he made the call, anyway. Now, as Ronan’s booming voice edged his already throbbing headache up a notch, he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to wait a day. He’d come here to his office in order to occupy his mind so that he wouldn’t keep running the memory of El’s shocked and furious face through his head like a damn gif, the same image playing over and over and over again.

  But now that Ronan was here, his betrayal was all Devlin could think of.

  Because he had betrayed her.

  Not because of who he was or what he did. No, his conscience was clean. Devlin wouldn’t ever lose sleep over taking out men like Lorenzo Bell and Terrance Myers.

  No, his betrayal was in not trusting her from the beginning. Holding his secrets close because he feared that he’d lose her after only just getting her back. Fear that the gap between them would be too wide to breach.

  And maybe it would be.

  He dragged his fingers through his hair then pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe it would be.

  He’d made a judgment call by not telling Ellie the full truth earlier, and it had been the wrong decision.

  He owed her the truth. The romance of their youth had been built on a lie, and he’d walked back into her life and done the same goddamn thing because he’d been a coward. Too afraid that if he told her the truth from the get-go, he would lose her right then. He’d been greedy, wanting time with her. Believing that the strength of their relationship would overcome his deception.

  But how strong could that relationship be when he’d built it on sandcastles?

  He’d fucked up. He knew that.

  He’d made a huge mistake.

  And now he was going to do everything in his power to get her back. To convince her.

  He’d win—he had to win, because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her—and they’d move forward together in the light rather than the smoky mire of the secrets he’d been keeping.

  He wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose her.

  And so he simply refused to acknowledge the possibility of failure.

  Maybe she thought the gap between them was as wide as an ocean, but she was wrong. It was only a small stream, and she’d make her way across to his side. He just had to give her time.

  “For fuck’s sake, Devlin,” Ronan said, once again interrupting his thoughts, “she has that video. Our pictures are on it. The goddamn FBI could come storming into the foundation any minute.”

  He looked up into his friend’s stern face. “That won’t happen.”

  “Really? You’re so sure?”

  “I am.” The words hung between them. More than just a statement, they were a promise. A benediction. “I know her,” he said. “I know who she is and what she believes in.”

  “She used to be a cop. She was raised by a cop. I think it’s clear on which side of the line she falls.”

  “Our side,” Devlin said. “Justice.”

  “In theory, maybe. But she’s not the kind to break the rules. In case you hadn’t noticed, breaking rules is pretty much our playbook.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  Ronan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  Devlin stood. “You heard me. We’ve worked together how many years? Gone on how many missions? One word from me, and I could have you behind bars for life. One word from you, and a cell would be my new home. So I’ll ask again. Do you trust me?”

  “You know I do. I trust you with my life. That’s not the point.”

  “It is,” Devlin said. “Because I trust her.”

  “One of her best friends is a detective. She’s sitting on evidence that could fuck us in the ass. How are you not doing the math?”

  “I trust her,” Devlin repeated. “And you know I’m right.”

  “Do I? You’re putting a lot of faith in her.”

  “Yeah,” Devlin said. “I am. She won’t turn us in.”

  “Us? Maybe not you, but—”

  “Us,” Devlin repeated.

  Ronan put his hands on the edge of Devlin’s desk, then leaned forward so
that they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Let’s say you’re right. She’ll keep our secret. Where does that leave the two of you?”

  “Now? I don’t know,” Devlin admitted. “She can push me away. Hell, she probably will, and with both hands, too. But this isn’t the end. I walked away from her when I was Alex, and it gutted me. And then she came back, and I tried to push her away again. I failed.”

  Ronan scoffed. “You could have tried harder.”

  “But that’s the point, isn’t it? I want her. No, I need her. And she can push me away all she likes, but I’m not letting her go without a fight. She’s my heart, Ronan. She always has been.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t envy you every single day for having found her? But this isn’t a movie. Love doesn’t conquer all. She is who she is.”

  “You’re right,” Devlin said. “And even though she may not realize it yet, she’s of the same mind as we are.”

  Ronan scoffed. “Yeah, well, that’s a lot for me to take on faith.”

  “But you will.”

  His friend nodded. “I trust you, just like I said. And I like her. She’s got backbone. But goddammit, I hope you’re right. Because if we’re making the wrong choice, both of our asses are going to fry.”

  Devlin hit the button on his phone to buzz for Anna, then cursed softly when she didn’t answer. She’d been away from her desk when he’d arrived. Apparently, she was still away.

  A wave of irritation swept over him—she was his damned assistant, so why wasn’t she there to assist him—but he tamped it down, immediately feeling like an ass for taking out his frustration on her, even if she wasn’t in the room to shoulder his fury.

  This was his loss, his problem, and he wasn’t going to take it out on Anna.

  Still, he needed to tell her what had happened. Ronan was right—Ellie was holding on to evidence that could destroy both of them.

  Devin didn’t believe Ellie would use it, but he hadn’t gotten where he was by not covering his ass. And as much as it pained, him, he needed to let Anna know the score. If the worst did happen, and Detective Gage marched into his office with an arrest warrant, things would go south fast. He needed Anna and Tamra to be vigilant, because if that happened, they’d be the ones on the front line charged with making sure the operation was secure, the records safe, and the other team members shielded.

  Tamra was back in Vegas. As for Anna…

  He buzzed down to reception. Paul answered immediately. “Yes, sir?”

  “Anna’s not at her desk.”

  “Yes, sir. She transferred your calls to me. Can I help you with something?”

  “Is she out of the building?”

  “She’s in research. Shall I have her come up to you?”

  “No. It’s fine. Thank you.”

  He started to buzz the research room, then decided to simply go there. He could use the walk. He was too tight, and the motion would calm him. He headed down the stairs to the third floor, then pushed open the door, stopping when he heard Anna’s laugh.

  He stepped further in, past the shelves of file boxes holding research material relating to current applicants for foundation grants. He rounded the corner so that he could see the large, oak table that he’d come to think of as Christopher’s. And there she was, leaning close to Christopher as she laughed at something on his screen.

  “Anna.”

  Her head jerked up, a lock of red hair falling across her expressionless face. Then she smiled. “Devlin, do you need me? Christopher was showing me the scene he just wrote.”

  “I’m surprised to see you, Christopher,” he said. “Rumor has it you were in LA the last couple of days.”

  The other man’s face turned nine shades of red. “Yeah. Well, we might have stayed an extra day, too. But Brandy got invited to present some stock samples to a boutique in San Diego. So she’s heading that way. I think she’s going to stay with her parents for a couple of days.”

  “Good for her. And good luck with your book. Anna,” he added. “I need you in my office.”

  “Of course,” she said, as he left the room to return to his office. To her credit, she didn’t leave him waiting long, and when she entered, he was on the balcony, the doors open behind him as he looked out toward the tide pool.

  He drew in a breath, then turned to face her. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, working to keep his voice level.

  “What do you—”

  “Don’t play games, Anna. Not with me or with him. He’s dating Brandy.”

  Her eyes widened. “Is that what you think? That I’m interested in Christopher? Devlin, no. He and Brandy are great together. We were just plotting. It’s fascinating. All the twists and turns. One branch leading somewhere, another going an opposite direction. And then it all ties back at the end.”

  “Plotting.”

  “He writes thrillers. Paid assassins. Undercover operatives.” She shrugged. “He thinks my ideas are very creative.”

  Despite himself, he laughed. “Yeah, well, I imagine you would be a big help.”

  “That’s not why you were looking for me. What do you need?”

  He stepped back inside, then indicated the sofa, settling himself opposite her in the chair. “Ellie knows.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. You told her?”

  “I should have told her a long time ago. As it is, she was about to learn too much on her own—the drone footage from the Myers trial run. From her perspective, I confessed to save my ass.”

  “You think she’s going to turn us in.” It was a statement, and the certainty in her voice—that revelation of disloyalty to the woman he loved—sliced through him.

  “No,” he said firmly, noting the surprise in her eyes. “No, I don’t think so. But we need to be prepared if I’m wrong. And I want to amp up our efforts to find out where that footage originated. Who the fuck was operating that drone?”

  “The team’s on it,” she assured him. “No leads yet.”

  He nodded. The moment Ellie had told him about the footage he’d told Anna to set the wheels in motion. So far, there were no leads, though if Devlin had to lay odds, he would guess that it was tied to the security breaches. Someone out there was watching not only the DSF, but his other operations as well.

  “Who else on the team knows that Ellie’s up to speed?” Anna asked.

  “Ronan and Reggie. I’ll tell Tamra today. The rest are out of town. So long as you do your job, no one will discover them even if the worst happens.”

  She nodded, and he was satisfied. They’d run through worst-case drills enough. He trusted her to keep her hand on the fuse—but not to light it until absolutely necessary.

  “I’ve got your back,” she said.

  “I know,” he said. “You always have.”

  “Right. Well.” She pushed up off the sofa. “I’ll go check in with Paul then get back to my desk.”

  “One more thing,” he said, standing as well. “Did you ever hear of a man named Cyrus Mulroy? You have,” he added, since the answer was clear enough from her wide, surprised eyes.

  “Why on earth do you want to know about that scum?”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “He contacted Peter about using his business to move Peter’s drugs.”

  “And you know this because you were working with Peter?”

  She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “I knew because I was fucking him, which you already know. But I wasn’t ever working with him. I was already walking the line with your father by sleeping with him, but I could justify that if I had to. Pillow talk, right? But getting in bed that way with Peter? The Wolf would have cut me to ribbons.”

  All true. And for the first time he wondered if she’d been sleeping with Peter on his father’s orders or simply because she’d wanted the thrill of sleeping with an older, powerful man high in The Wolf’s organization.

  “Why are you asking me this?”

  “Cyrus t
alked to the police.”

  “What? Now?”

  “After Peter’s death. One of the early interviews. Said they did business together. What do you know about that?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “His business was porn. As far as I know, that wasn’t something Peter was into.”

  “So he was lying?”

  “I don’t know, Devlin. This is all news to me. But Mulroy did buy drugs from Peter on occasion.”

  “My info is that he wasn’t a user or a distributor.”

  Anna shrugged. “Maybe it was for the girls he filmed. Maybe he considered that doing business.”

  He nodded. That made sense.

  “Why is this coming up now?”

  “Ellie’s arranging an interview with Mulroy, and I want to know what he’s going to tell her.”

  “Just about the drugs, I assume. What else is there?”

  “That’s always the question, isn’t it?” The question, however, was rhetorical, and he pushed it away with a wave. “That’s all. We’re done here.”

  She nodded, then started toward the door again, but she paused after only a few steps, then turned back to face him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but maybe this is for the best. You and Ellie, I mean. She’s never going to see the world the way you do. The way all of us who believe in you do.”

  She turned then, and left the room, leaving him to watch as the doors closed behind her.

  She might be right, he knew, but that didn’t mean he would give up on Ellie. On them. He wouldn’t.

  But maybe he needed to look at the world in a different way. Maybe at the end of the day, he and Ellie needed to find their own common perspective with which to view the world.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  This isn’t the way I thought it would end.

  That’s the thought I keep coming back to as I pace through the house, a stack of Oreos in my hand like poker chips. I’ve almost finished off the bag, and I feel no better. I feel no worse, either.

  Mostly, I still feel numb.

  Frankly, that pisses me off. We had everything going for us. Everything. Even with some horrible freak sending me creepy texts—hell, even with Range Rovers trying to mow me down—I’ve been happier than I can remember being since forever.