I held him, my hand running through his hair until the tension drained from his body and his erratic mumbling ceased.
No one made me feel the way he did, and I didn’t foresee a time when I wouldn’t want—need—that.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Juliana
In two weeks, we’d taken up where we had left off two years ago. The intensity between us never wavered—it heightened to exaggerated levels and never seemed to simmer down.
Devlin attended every show and some of my practices. He made a ridiculous display of our relationship—marking his territory in front of Evan.
Devlin always met me backstage afterward. The first time he’d come back there he’d received intrigued, shy, and interested looks, to name a few. After the third show most people built up the nerve to say hello to him. He was quietly polite and usually nodded in response.
As we walked out of the theater Devlin took my bag off his shoulder and hooked it over his. We decided to walk a couple of blocks to a restaurant, but Devlin was edgy. He kept glancing over his shoulder and pulling his hands away from mine. In the restaurant, he gave off the impression of a caged animal. He kept staring down at his hands while he tapped his fingers together.
“What’s the matter, Dev?”
He glanced up at me with jittery, unfocused eyes. I didn’t know if I should push. He could be having an episode, but he was extremely quiet.
“He’s here.”
“Who’s here?” I looked around, but there was no one I recognized.
He pushed both hands into his hair and hung his head with his elbows resting on the table.
“Damien. He’s here.”
I glanced around the room again and looked out the window next to our table. If Damien were here, I’d spot him. Devlin was hallucinating.
“He’s not here, Devlin.” I reached out and touched his arm, and he sat back, pulling away from my touch. “Have you considered going to see someone?”
“I’m not fucking crazy. I know what I saw.” He glared at me. From what I understood, he really believed Damien was here, and I wasn’t going to incite him by contradicting what his mind told him.
“I don’t think you’re crazy. You just get a little confused sometimes.”
“Don’t patronize me, please. You sound like Tyler. Have you been talking to him? You have, haven’t you?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to find him.”
I got nervous when I saw the twitch of his left eye, the tapping of his fingers on the table, and his silent counting to five over and over.
Devlin didn’t eat. He kept looking out the window and sipping on his drink. Counting and counting.
We left and he was still strung up, so I pulled him into a nearby alleyway and hoped I could get him to relax.
He was stiff as I pushed his back against the wall. He looked at me and shook his head, but I wanted to ease his mind. I kissed him. He barely responded at first, and then he growled and became aggressive.
He spun me around until my back was pressed to the brick wall. His tongue plunged in and out of my mouth. He pulled one of my legs up around his waist and ground into me, causing heat to scorch between us. Devlin stiffened and I heard a clicking sound. He slowly pulled away, and I looked back and forth between his stormy eyes and the barrel of a gun held to his head.
Devlin
I’d been right. Damien was here, and Juliana caused me to let down my guard long enough for him to get the upper hand. I stared into her eyes and tried to ignore my instinct, but failed.
“Are you helping him? Is that why you tried to convince me I didn’t see him?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t… You know I wouldn’t.” She looked hurt that I would accuse her, but something inside was warning me she betrayed me.
Damien yanked me away from her and spun me to face him. “You’ve been after me a long time. I know you followed me tonight.”
“I didn’t even know you were in Boston, Damien.” That was the truth. My search for Damien had tapered off since I’d started searching for Juliana.
“Don’t think because you managed to take down Moretti that you have a chance to finish me. I made you who you are. I’m always one step ahead because I know how you think. Greater men have tried. And the guise you’re wearing as a legitimate businessman is...” Damien laughed. Hysterically.
When his maniacal laughter stopped, he sighed contently. “You’re always so guarded, so aware of your surroundings. I taught you that, but you forgot what I told you about women. They’re poison. They throw everything off track.”
He drew his hand back, and the last thing I remembered seeing was Damien nodding his head with a satisfied smirk on his face before he slammed the barrel of the gun against my temple. I faded to the sound of Juliana screaming my name and woke in a cold, dark room.