Page 32 of Hope and Country

On a mission to offer Devon a breather, I exited the kitchen with reluctant steps. Many questions swam in my head, but I couldn’t rush them out. I would give her time to get to know me, to trust me, before asking any of them.

I checked my phone in case I missed a call. I hadn’t heard back from Taylor yet.

My gaze landed on Devon’s discarded clothes in the bathroom, and I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes when images of last night rushed back to my mind.

My heart trembled at the memories of panic and terror clouding her eyes.

A shadow of death clung to her, wanting her complete surrender, but she fought on, never giving up. I thanked the universe that she trusted me enough to seek my help. Devon was at the last thread of hope, but she held on for me, didn’t let go.

Last night, I barely resisted the longing of my soul to take away her pain and heal her scars, even those invisible to the eye, rooted deep inside her, in any way I could. I was scared to touch the delicate skin of her cheeks, too afraid I would hurt her. How could anyone mar such a gentle soul?

All I wanted was to kiss her forehead and promise her my unconditional support.

To hug her against my heart and reassure her.

I wanted to fight her battles with her, for her, but knew she would only accept my help to fight through them. Face her problems head-on.

In the last year, Devon had become my world even if right now I was only on the periphery of hers. In the end, even if she chose not to love me, I knew I would cherish her and these memories of time spent together forever. But I would also do my damndest to make sure she saw how important she was to me. That I could be her happy ending. Hers to love.

Whatever pushed Devon to me tonight, to my doorstep, I could only be thankful. Because I wouldn’t let her down. I would fight the world for her.

Moisture rose at the back of my eyes, and a cold chill ran along my spine as I picked her bloody, torn clothes and put it in an unused paper bag as evidence if needed. She deserved her day of justice. And the bastard to be locked up forever, the key forgotten.

“Ready for that TV marathon?” I asked after I made popcorn and brought all our cocooning necessities to the living room.

“Yes.”

We exchanged tight-lipped smiles while we took our place on opposite sides of the couch. Devon spread the blanket over her, and I handed her a pillow to support her arm.

For a year, I’d been dreaming of finding her. And now that she’d found me, I had no idea what to do or say.

Devon’s story was way more horrifying than I anticipated it to be. Darker than any nightmare I might have ever seen.

The pit of burning fury in my stomach seared each time my gaze found hers.

But her smile, genuine and humble, tamed the flames, and I forgot all about avenging her, choosing to look out for her instead.

I shifted in my seat, wanting to hold her close, but I knew it would be too much, too soon. For now, having her in my home, spending time with her, getting to know her, had to be enough.

And I’d make sure nobody and nothing bad would get to her without going through me first.

Playing house, we binge-watched silly reality shows—something I hardly ever did, my schedule always too full to indulge in some me-time. Devon’s clear laughter permeated the room, reminding me of the night we first met.

Someone rang the doorbell.

At the sound of the first peal, Devon startled, hugging herself with her arms as fear passed through her gaze, and tension made her body go rigid. All the color drained from her face, making those marks look even more prominent. She folded her knees and curled up over herself, hardly breathing. The hair on my arms stood on end, and my pulse ratcheted at the sight. She looked like a woman who was set on protecting her body from the punches and kicks. I couldn’t breathe. A sinking realization struck me. This was what happened when someone rang her doorbell. She knew the person would enter and take out his anger on her.

My heart sunk low in my chest. My soul withered and died, and my respect for her touched sky high. She had gone through so much.

All my senses heightened, and I jumped to my feet, ready to send away whoever stood on the other side of the door.

“Wait here,” I said, balling my hands, getting ready to fight if it came down to it.

I stood tall, my chest puffed out, and yanked the door open, holding my breath.

Juniper stood there, bags in her arms.

I emptied my lungs as relief washed through me. My heart rate normalized. I worked hard to school my expression and project a casual vibe. Now I understood what Devon went through as I hadn’t even realized how on edge I was until my assistant stood inches away from me. I scratched the side of my head as I glanced at her.