“I think he should,” Wilder breathes, pushing Devon away. My brother jumped back when Marie shot at him. I guess the “little omega” has him running scared.
That’s my fucking girl.
“What? You want to talk about a hole in the sofa instead of the dead man walking and talking?” Devon yells.
“I have a hole or two too if you need to compare,” I chuckle. “I’m pretty sure mine are bigger than the couch.”
“Always measuring,” Marie mutters under her breath.
Devon’s lips twitch, and I wait for him to let the heavy emotions he’s holding onto bleed away. We aren’t there yet, but we are closer.
“You all didn’t know the entire time, did you?” he asks. “The world is in trouble if Marie’s this good at masking her emotions.”
“You mean the puking, sobbing, mess I was?” she asks, raising her brow as I wince and kiss her exposed throat in apology.
“Yes,” Devon grunts. “Do you have some kind of drama degree I don’t know about or are you a spy?”
“No,” she snorts. “I’m just a nurse.”
“And I have a small dick,” he mutters.
“The truth is out!” Storm chortles.
“Jesus, remember we’re related,” I remind him. “I’m pretty sure his dick size is fine.”
“Marie, you’re also not ‘just’ anything,” Devon groans. “My club is even enamored with you, and Martyr is outside waiting for my report on how you’re doing. Nurses can’t handle a gun the way you do, or fry an alpha’s knot without blinking an eye.”
“My brother forced that all on me,” she says. “It’s not something I’ve ever wanted to use. I didn’t know Lore was alive. Everything you saw was real. I took your words to heart, Devon. Maybe too much so, and decided to embrace my training. I’m a crack shot and have some self defense skills in my back pocket, though I have to admit the self defense is rusty as fuck.”
Devon stares dumbfounded for a moment before he blinks slowly. “Who the fuck is your brother, and why did he turn you into a killing machine?”
“You’re overestimating my skills,” she snorts. “Tommy Madden is my brother. He’s a?—”
“He runs a fighting ring here,” Devon interrupts. “I had Ransom ask him if I could fight the night of the funeral. I neededto clear my head. I fought under Ransom’s name. That’s what he was doing as his last job for me.”
Ransom refuses to look in my direction, wincing as he feels the anger coming from me.
“Stupid is as stupid does,” I mutter. “Fuck man.”
Devon is very even tempered, until he’s not. He used to have anger issues when we were growing up, and he took them out in the Pit when our father was the president. People would make it a point to fight out their grievances with each other, while Devon used it as an excuse to beat the fuck out of someone.
In business, he doesn’t make a move until he’s certain it’s the right one. It’s why it’s taken him so long to put down the snakes in his club. I’ve gotten my updates on my brother in bits and pieces, but my faked death helped him along on his timetable.
“You can’t complain. It put me in a better mood to deal with your omega,” Devon shrugs. He puts his hand up as Marie inhales sharply, shaking his head. “Goddamn it, I fucked up again. You acted ruined by his death, Marie, and that’s how I felt. It was really difficult to stare at my feelings walking outside of my body.”
“I tried to hide it,” Marie mumbles.
“You didn’t need to,” Ransom says. “The bond sickness demanded blood and tears. I think that’s why you couldn’t stop throwing up. Stuffing your emotions was killing you.”
“Bond sickness,” Devon whispers, his gun moving toward me. Unfortunately for him, he can’t get a clear shot.
It’s probably for the best, not that I’d use Marie as a human shield if I really thought he’d shoot me.
“I didn’t know,” I say simply. “I was cleaning up the mess left behind by Chester and his men. It was easier to handle it while everyone thought I was dead. I would have run back here if I’d known, even as shot up as I was.”
“How are you alive?” Devon asks.
“A Good Samaritan doctor took pity on me,” I reply lightly. “Are you really going to try to kill me after just finding out I’m alive?”
