My Beautiful Sin

by J. Kenner

  Chapter Forty-Three

  I’m coming to get you.

  I want to cry when I hear Devlin’s words. More than that, I want to call out to him. To tell him I want him. That I need him. And that I have to get out of this mess so I can show him just how much I love him.

  But I can’t say any of that. I can hear the tree branches creaking, and I know that’s all that’s holding me and Shelby in place. And when I look down, all I see is a deadly fall onto the rooftops far, far below. If I speak, I move. And if I move, I just might die.

  “I’m coming down,” Devlin says, and I bite back a whimper. “Don’t move. Don’t look. I’ve got a rope. It’s tied off. I’m going to come down, get you, and we’re going to come back up together.”

  I have to fight an ironic laugh. Devlin’s rappelling down to save me. How poetic is that?

  “Okay. I’m coming,” he says. “All you have to do for me is absolutely nothing.”

  I close my eyes, wishing I could tell him that I’m unhurt. Just terrified. He’s operating on faith alone. There’s no way he can know that I’m conscious, much less alive. But he’s coming for me.

  I’m not surprised. I know well enough that Devlin will always come for me.

  I hear the sound of his feet scraping the cliffside, his heavy breathing as he moves carefully closer.

  And then, in the distance, I hear a siren growing louder and louder as Devlin moves closer.

  “I’m right here, baby.” He’s so close I can feel the breath on the back of my neck. “Move slowly and let me loop this around you.”

  I swallow, then very slowly shift so that I’m looking up at him. I’m holding the steering wheel with one hand and the door with the other, and my body is hanging out over the void. I have to pull myself up toward the steering wheel, and as I do, I feel the car shift and hear the hard, brittle snap of the tree that’s been holding me in place.

  “Fuck,” Devlin says, at the same time that the floor seems to fall out from under me. I hear a sharp, metallic clang, and at the same time Devlin’s arms lock under mine.

  He yanks me toward him, and my legs go free as Shelby drops away. I have only a moment to gasp—to mourn what will soon be a tangled mess of metal—when she comes to a sharp, violent stop, the downward motion stopped by the heavy cable now hooked to her bumper.

  I sigh with relief even though Devlin and I are dangling over the abyss. Shelby’s safe. I’m in Devlin’s arms.

  And right then, I know I’m going to be just fine.

  “Jesus, Ellie,” Lamar cries as he pulls me into his arms. I’m still tied to Devlin, and so he’s yanked close, too, as Lamar captures him in a hug big enough to encompass us both. “You have to stop this shit—driving fast, taking wild curves. How many times have I told you—”

  “I wasn’t,” I say, pulling back so I can look at them both. I shift my attention to Devlin. “I was being careful because I was on my way to see you.”

  I see the moment he understands my deeper meaning, and he lifts the hand he’s been holding so tightly and presses it to his lips.

  “So, what? You’re saying you just lost control?” Lamar asks as Tamra joins us, her face still pinched with worry. “That this was a freak accident?”

  “She’s saying that somebody tried to kill her,” Devlin says.

  Lamar looks at me, and I nod in confirmation.

  “Who?” he asks, his voice as steely as the metallic grinding coming from the slow engine of the chain pulling up my car.

  “I don’t know.” I look between the two men. “It was a black Tesla. I thought it was you until—well, until they forced me over a cliff,” I add, my eyes on Devlin. I draw a breath. “Now, my best guess is Joseph Blackstone. If you’re getting close to proving he’s behind the foundation’s security breaches, then killing me makes for a quite a distraction.”

  “True,” Devlin says, as Lamar taps something into his phone. “I happen to know that Blackstone’s currently in Utah.”

  “Yes, but—”

  Devlin rests a hand on Tamra’s shoulder, interrupting her. “You’re right, of course. He wouldn’t have done this personally. One of his flunkies.”

  “Exactly,” she says, though I can’t shake the feeling that wasn’t what she’d intended to say at all.

  “I’ve got a forensics team on the way,” Lamar says. “Take her home,” he adds to Devlin. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Thank you,” I say, giving him another hug. “And thank you for calling Lamar,” I add to Tamra, who holds me close and strokes my hair.

  When she releases me, Devlin kisses my forehead and a paramedic with a kindly face, pulls me aside, insisting on looking me over. Since I’m certain that Devlin wants to speak to Tamra alone, I don’t ask him to come with me. Soon enough, the paramedic tells me I’m good to go. I start toward Devlin, but see that he’s now on the phone. So I shift direction and head to the SUV, then climb into the passenger seat. I put my feet on the seat and hug my knees. I give myself credit for not shaking, but there is no doubt in my mind that if my habit of flirting with danger was a death wish, I am well and truly over that.

  I’m alive. I’m alive because Devlin found me.

  A moment later, Devlin joins me, and the moment we’re closed inside, he slams his hand down so hard on the steering wheel the entire vehicle shakes. “I could have lost you today, El. You could have gone down that cliff and been lost to me forever.”

  He turns, his eyes burning as he locks me in his gaze. “Tell me I haven’t lost you anyway?”

  “Never,” I whisper, as the tears I’ve been holding in start to flow. “That’s why I was coming to see you. I wanted—”

  I don’t get the words out. He pulls me toward him, my body crunched against the console as he cups my head and kisses me hard. I return the kiss with just as much ferocity, both of us finally letting go of the terror of what could have been and soothing our fears in each other’s arms.

  “Home,” I say when we finally break away.

  He nods, then continues up the hill toward his house, not even asking which home I meant.

  “What about Tamra?” I ask as he pulls into his garage. I feel guilty not thinking about it before. We pretty much stranded her on the canyon road.

  “Lamar’s taking her home. And I told her to stay quiet about who was helping Blackstone.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Christopher,” he says, the name sending a fresh wave of fear through me. “Brandy,” I say, reaching for my purse, only to realize it’s still in Shelby.

  “I asked Ronan to oversee Shelby’s recovery,” Devlin says. “He’ll get your purse, and he’ll make sure they treat her well.”

  “Ronan? When did you talk to him?”

  “I made a few calls while EMS was checking you over.”

  “Right. Okay. Tell him to send her to Mr. Ortega,” I say. “He’ll do a good job on her.”

  “Done,” he assures me.

  “But I need to call Brandy. I need to warn her. Christopher,” I say, shaking my head as I reach for Devlin’s phone, sitting in the console between us.

  “Don’t,” he says. “I don’t want to tip him off.”

  “But if he finds out I’m okay, he might take it out on her.”

  “I sent Reggie to San Diego. She’s keeping surveillance on Brandy. If it comes to it, she’ll tell her why. But I don’t think it will. Christopher knows she’s at her parents. He doesn’t have a reason in the world to go down there.”

  He kills the engine as I turn to look at him more directly. “Why?” I ask. “Why would Christopher help Joseph Blackstone?”

  “Because they’re brothers,” he says. “And that fucker has wormed his way into my life and my organization. He tried to kill you. And I swear on my life, I will make that sonofabitch pay.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  I want time alone with Devlin, but Ronan arrives right on our heels.

  “We need to talk,” I tell Devlin, pulling him aside as R
onan steps into the kitchen to make a phone call. “There are things I want to say.”

  “Things I want to hear?” he asks, tilting his head slightly as he studies me.

  “Yes,” I promise. “And there are I things I want to know.”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” he assures me. “And I want to hear everything you’ve been thinking. Right now, though, I need to focus on keeping you safe. So I have just one question.” He tips up my chin, then brushes a kiss over my lips. “Are you mine?”

  “I’m as much yours as you are mine,” I whisper, then sigh as his arms tighten around me.

  “In that case,” he says, “you’re mine completely.”

  We pull apart long enough to come together for a kiss, long and deep. The kind that would usually lead to the frantic stripping of clothes and wild sex on the kitchen table.

  Sadly, we have company. Not to mention a plan to work out.

  We meet Ronan in the living room, and he nods slowly, looking around. “There’s a reason you live here. This place is like Fort Knox. That’s good. I think this will work out well,” he says, then lays out his plan.

  Devlin asks a few questions, then nods. “That should work.”

  “I’d prefer having Reggie here with us, but I don’t want to leave Brandy unprotected.”

  “And we do have three,” Devlin says, looking at me. “You’ll be armed, too.”

  “You better believe I will,” I say. “But are you sure we don’t want to pull Anna and Tamra into the loop?”

  Devlin shakes his head. “Standard protocol for the Angels. Mission specs are need-to-know only, and neither of them work in the field. They don’t need to know. Plus, they know the subject personally, and that’s not something we’ve dealt with before. They’re not tested in that kind of deception. If he talks to either of them and gets even the slightest wind of our suspicions…”

  I nod. “I get it.”

  “With luck, this ends tonight,” Ronan says. “You ready to make the call?”

  I draw in a breath, then nod. I pull out my phone and dial Christopher, then curse when it rolls to voicemail. “Hey, Christopher. It’s Ellie. Can you call me back? Thanks.”

  I end the call and look up at the guys, then shrug.

  They exchange a look, then Devlin pulls out his phone and dials.

  “Anna, hey. Are you still at the office? What, no, just one thing. I need to fly to Vegas. Can you call and let them know to get my plane ready? Thanks. Actually, there’s one more thing. I was trying to reach Christopher. I thought he might be working late in the research room.”

  He meets my eyes, then Ronan’s. Then he smiles. “Great. That’s perfect. Give him a message for me. I just need to check something out. Okay. Right.”

  Another pause, and then he continues, his gaze shifting to me, hardness fueling his voice. “Someone tried to run Ellie off the road, and I don’t want to leave her alone. But I have a theory I want to explore. Right—that’s why I’m going to Vegas. Listen, I’ve been trying to reach Brandy, but I’m not getting an answer. Can you ask Christopher to get in touch with her and ask Brandy to drive up for the night? Yeah. My house. Give him the alarm code to pass on to Brandy. Yes. Be sure to tell him it opens the door and turns off the alarm. That confuses some people. And tell him that Ellie might be asleep. I gave her something to relax her. What? Yes—yes things are fine between us now.”

  He meets my eyes, his smile slow and sweet. I love you, he mouths.

  I know, I reply, happiness flooding through me.

  Humor dances over his face before he turns serious again. “Oh, yes. Yes, of course I will. Thanks, Anna. I knew I could count on you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He ends the call, then sits beside me. “She says to tell you she’s sorry and hopes that you’re doing okay.”

  “You’re having them get your plane ready?”

  “Got to make the illusion look good.” He taps out a text. “Marci will make sure the log shows that I was on the plane. And I’m sure she and the crew will have a lovely night in Vegas.”

  I almost point out that faking the log is illegal, but I stop myself. Hardly the point.

  “And now?”

  “Now we wait,” Ronan says. He looks at me, and there’s so much concern reflected on his face, that I’m not sure how I ever thought he had it in for me. “You doing okay?”

  “I’ve got the two of you here with me,” I say. “I’m doing just fine. And thank you,” I add. “Everything before is such a blur. If I didn’t already say thank you for coming to help and for taking care of Shelby, then I’m saying it now.”

  “You did,” he said. “And you’re still very welcome.”

  I smile, then look to Devlin as a new thought occurs to me. “What if Brandy calls to find out how I am? Or shows up at the door in ninety minutes, frantic about me?”

  “Then we’ll know Christopher isn’t our guy.”

  I hug myself. “No, I think you’re right. His connection to Blackstone. And I overheard him talking about ways to kill someone—supposedly in his book—and running them down in the street was one of them.”

  Devlin drags his fingers through his hair. “I should have seen it.”

  I shake my head. “None of us did. Hell, I like him.”

  “He’s good,” Ronan says. “Good at what he does. But so are we.”

  I swallow. “Should I keep trying him?”

  “You don’t need to,” Devlin says. “I gave Anna the message. She knows it’s urgent. She’s never once let me down.”

  He stands up, then reaches out a hand for me. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  I nod. I’ve got dirt on my clothes and dust in my hair, and I let Devlin lead me into the bathroom. He runs a bath, then helps me undress and get into the warm water. It feels delicious on my bruised skin. Miraculously, I don’t have many injuries, but I’m definitely sore and banged up, and the water feels like heaven.

  On the counter, I hear my phone ping a text, but I ignore it. Devlin is with me, and right now, that’s all that counts. I close my eyes, sighing as he gently washes the lingering dirt off my face, then rinses my hair.

  He’s seated on a stool next to the tub, and as I lean back to sack, I open my eyes and take his hand. “Thank you for rescuing me. And for taking care of me.”

  “Always,” he says. “I love you, El. I will always protect you. Always take care of you. You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” I assure him, my heart swelling from the love I see in his eyes. “Of course, I do.”

  We’d reached Devlin’s house just after sunset and had called Anna with the message for Christopher about half an hour after that.

  Now it’s almost nine o’clock. Zero hour since we’re assuming that Christopher will try to arrive about the time I’d be expecting Brandy.

  I’m in the living room with the television on low and a 9mm Glock under the pillow beside me. Devlin is behind me, covering the entrance from the garage side door and the main front door. Ronan is on the opposite side in the utility room, giving him full coverage of anyone who gets past Devlin and the utility room, which has a side door that opens onto the yard.

  These are the only entrances to the house, and they’re covered.

  “The patio can be accessed, too,” Devlin had pointed out. “There’s a spiral staircase that comes up out of the canyon. But you have to cut through the yard, then shimmy down the rocks to even get to it. And no one unfamiliar with the house knows it’s there.”

  I’m watching The Empire Strikes Back, though I’m not really paying attention. Instead, I’m listening for the electronic beep signaling that someone is using the keypad to disarm the system. Disarming is only silent when it’s done through the app, which, of course, Christopher doesn’t have.

  After a few minutes, I can’t take it anymore, and I get up and pace, then sit and try again to watch the movie, but with no success. I move to the center of the room and turn my back to the TV and balcony so that I can s
peak roughly in their direction. “Guys, I don’t think this is—”

  I gasp, then curse myself, because my gun is still on the sofa, and I’m staring at Ronan, who’s pointing his weapon straight at me.

  I’m going to die.

  The thought is so sure. So certain, and I hate myself for letting my guard down. I’d come to trust this man, and he’d not only fucked me over, he’d screwed Devlin, too.

  “How could you,” I whisper, but my words are drowned out by the sharp report of his weapon and the howling cry of pain from behind me.

  I whip around at the same time I see Devlin bolt into the room.

  Anna.

  She’s taken one panel of the sheer curtains down with her, and now the gauzy white is turning a chilling red from the wound in her shoulder. “Sorry,” Ronan says to me. “She was just about to nail you.”

  I nod, mute, as Devlin rushes to embrace me.

  After a moment, though, he lets go and moves to Anna.

  “Why?” he says as he kicks her weapon away. She’s slouched against the wall, the curtain panels that are still hanging now blowing in the breeze. “Why?” he asks again, and I cringe against the depth of pain and betrayal in his voice.

  He grabs some of the curtain and wads it up, then uses it to staunch the blood. “Goddammit, Anna I need you to tell me why.”

  She looks at him, then shifts her gaze to me. “We could have been friends,” she says, her voice breaking. “You took things that weren’t yours.”

  “Devlin isn’t a thing.” I start to move toward them, but Ronan holds me back, a firm hand on my shoulder. “And this wasn’t just about jealousy.”

  Devlin looks up at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “I checked my texts earlier. Cyrus Mulroy is dead. That’s why he hasn’t returned my call. Anna killed him, didn’t you? Because he had tapes of her.”

  The hatred in her eyes is enough to answer that question.

  “Did you know Peter was filming you? Or did he have secret cameras?”