Page 154 of Pucked Around and Found Out

“She’ll never ask,” I vow.

He moves toward the door.

“But Devlin? If you leave her here alone, if you choose torturing Fiona over being here when she wakes up, don't expect me to defend you anymore. Don't expect me to make excuses. I'm done covering for you.”

“You've never covered for me,” I point out.

“I’ve done more than you fucking know,” Carnage says. “More than you fucking deserve. We broke you out tonight. Coordinated with your men. Put our people at risk. All for you to get back to her. And this is what you do with it?”

He shakes his head.

“I'm going to get coffee,” he says. “Give you some time with her. But when she wakes up? She better see you here. Not me. You. Because I'm done being second choice just because the man she actually wants can't stop being a fucking coward. Man up or step the fuck aside because you’re blocking her from seeing what is standing right here waiting.”

He leaves, the door closing behind him.

I stand there, breathing hard, his words echoing in my head.

For about three seconds, she wanted me instead of you.

The thought makes me want to destroy something.

But instead, I turn to the bed.

To my fairy.

Still unconscious. Still so fragile. I sink back into the chair and reach for her hand.

“I'm… fuck, Tink… I’m… sorry,” I whisper. “I should have been there, I keep fucking things up. I'm sorry—” My voice breaks.

She doesn't respond.

Doesn't move.

Just lies there, breathing shallowly, monitors beeping their steady rhythm.

“He's right,” I admit. Those two words taste like acid on my tongue. “About all of it. I hurt you. I keep choosing wrong. But Tink⁠—”

I lean forward, pressing my forehead against our joined hands.

“I don't know how to be anything else. This is me. I’m the fucking master of destruction. You were never meant to mean anything.”

The door opens and Cas hobbles in, his phone in hand.

“It’s Pope,” he says, seeing my face. “Are we going?”

I look at Toren.

Then at the message.

Then back at Toren.

She's stable. She's breathing. She's safe. But Fiona needs to be dealt with, that rotten cunt tried to take her from me, she wanted to use her against me and that is not something I’ll ever let go of.

The rage is building again, funneling through me like a breeze.

The need to hurt Fiona for what she did is fucking overwhelming. The need to make her suffer is taking over my rational thought. Bloodlust is clawing at me and needing an outlet.

“Yeah,” I say, standing. “We’re fucking going.”