Devil You Know(18)

“I don’t know your name,” I think aloud.

“It’s Malice,” he whispers, and presses a gentle kiss to my crown.

“Malice,” I repeat. What a contradiction that is, considering I’ve seen little evidence that he’s earned such a title.

“You won’t be alone anymore.” He puts an arm around me loosely, and sighs.

The promise sounds so lovely, but as much as he’s here for me now, I remind myself not to attach myself to him too tightly. There will come a day when he goes back to his life, and leaves me to my own—whatever it will be. Nobody sticks around forever; certainly nobody who has no obligation to stay.

His head rests on top of mine, and I shut my eyes once more and smile.

Maybe he will let me go one day, but for now, I’ll live the lie.

For now I’ll pretend he’s mine forever.

Whatever I need to do to make it through.





THIS IS going to get a lot worse before it’s over. A lot.

I should have minded my own business, stayed away as I had for the countless weeks, months, before that night. But how many times could I be expected to listen to that fucking coward beat the shit out of her, and be okay with myself?

I had to do something.

And looking at her sitting here now, trying to be strong while her face is a mess of old bruises, and two of her ribs are in pieces, I know I stepped in at the right time.

Another week and he would have killed her.

Intentional or not.

And that would have meant I had to kill him.

Intentional or not.

“I’ve rented that house I told you about. I’ll take you and Rocco there.”

She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks up at me. The swelling around her jaw stops her from smiling properly, and it comes off as a lop-sided grimace.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did, Jane.”

“Why?”

My resolve is thinning. I want to be cool, calm, and collected around her. She’s been frightened enough for one lifetime. But every time she says something so incredibly stupid like that, I want to flip my lid, tell her to pull her fucking head in, wake up and smell the roses.

“What do you think will happen if you go home? That’s where you’re thinking of going, right?” I scathe.

She moves minutely, but the body language is incredibly clear.

“Shit, I’m sorry. “ I hang my head, and draw a few deep breaths. Oxygen is clarity. I need to breathe for a bit.

“Don’t be sorry,” she mutters. “You’re right.”

I look across to see her sitting the same way as I was—head hung, and defeated.

“I still shouldn’t have said it like that.” My hand finds its way to her cheek, brushing her stray hairs behind her ear. So fucking silky.

“I guess,” she starts, then draws a deep breath. “I guess I don’t get why you’d care.” The words tumble from her mouth, and she stares at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

“It would be inhuman not to.”

She nods at my answer, all the while, I’m wondering where the fuck that line came from. I’m anything but human. Animal, monster, tyrant, bully—I could go on for days.

I’m certainly not Joe nice guy.

Until her.

“The police can escort you into your house to get some things if it makes you feel safer.” Lord knows I’d feel better about it.

“No.” Her head shakes violently, side to side. “I don’t want any of that stuff.”

“You’ll need clothes, Jane.”

“We’ve got some savings. I can go to the bank, and ask them to give me a withdrawal. I don’t have our account number, or any ID, but I’m sure they can do something for me. If not, then—”

“Shh.” I place a finger over her lips to stop the incessant rambling. “Worry about it later.”

Truth is, I’d buy this woman a whole fucking walk-in robe of clothing if it made her relax. But I’m thinking now isn’t the time to share that.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Her head finds that sweet spot on my shoulder again, and I drop my nose into her hair. “Don’t sweat it.”

She doesn’t flinch when I wrap my hand around the far side of her, and scoot her closer so that we’re sitting right up against each other. Instead, she sighs. Fucking sighs.

This woman is going to be the end of everything I know.

Of everything I am.

But fuckin’ hell, I’m ready to jump on that ride.





“HERE.”

Malice helps me up the steps to his front door, even though I could do it on my own—albeit slower. He swings the door open, and scoops an over-excited Rocco aside.

“Careful, mate. Mom needs to be looked after.”