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There is something sweet about the way he keeps me at his side, something that makes me feel protected.
“This wasn’t your first kill? Was it?” I’m not sure what prompts me to ask him, but it’s impossible for me to miss the way Devan twitches at the word.Kill. Even in a world like this, where it’s everyone stepping over everyone else and then bathing in blood like we did, it’s hard to reconcile.
I’ve always been behind a computer screen, sometimes ordering deaths that I’ll never see and somehow gives me a sense of removal from the actual deed. Today, there’s no chance at distance. There is no way to make sense of it right now, with my knees burning and my shaking legs trying to hustle to keep up with Devan’s grueling pace in an entirely different way.
We make it back to the car, and he buckles me into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel. “Well?” I press. “Is it? You never answered my question.” I already know the answer. I want to hear him say it out loud.
“I’ve shot perps in the line of duty before. There are some instances where you have to make a split-second decision and react, with no time left for considering consequences,” he answers carefully.
“Today seems like one of those days.”
“He was hurting you.” Devan’s voice drops, grim and dark. “I’d do it again. I’m glad he’s dead.”
I turn to him in surprise, but Devan won’t look at me. Won’t, or can’t, I’m not sure which one.
“Nothing we did today follows protocol. My training went out the window in terms of procedure, and I went on gut instinct alone. The way I have since you burst into my life, and the guilt is real, Aria. Not about you. You…I’d do anything for. I’d do anything to keep you safe and protect you, but I’ve stepped over a line, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to reconcile the bad calls I’ve made.”
“Don’t let your guilt consume you.” My body still tingles with pleasure, in direct contrast to the anxiety and worry caterwauling in my brain. “It’s a dangerous and slippery slope, and I expect more from you than to give in to the guilt and shame.”
“I’ve disappointed you.”
“No, not really. But I think, in this case, going outside the boundaries of your protocol is the only thing that will take Broderick down.” I think about it for a long moment, the hum of the car tires on rough asphalt soothing. “It hasn’t worked for you so far, has it?”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
I appreciate the ferocity in his voice, the honesty with himself and with me.
“And you know that bringing in a team with the CIA and FBI is only going to complicate matters and probably lead to a mishap somewhere along the line. He’s tricky. We’re doing what we have to do. We’re doing all we can.”
Devan finally turns to look at me full on. “Not all.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, and thinking about it gives me a headache right at the base of my neck. We make the rest of the drive in silence, parking the car far down the street from Bill's hideaway and making the rest of the trip on foot. It’s like opening the door to a secret clubhouse, complete with a special knock only members know. Bill answers the door after a few terse seconds of me waiting to see if there are more men with guns waiting in the darkened shadows.
Twilight has fallen, and with it, the gray sky fills with clouds, dampening even the remote light of the sliver of moon.
Bill answers the door, his expression solemn, and waists until we’re in the hallway before speaking. “Naomi will be on her way as soon as possible. She heard the gunfire, and she’s at the scene calling it in.”
“Great.” Devan’s shoulders slump forward.
A chill runs through me, and I use my hands to rub a little bit of warmth back into my arms. Nothing works. It’s inside of me already, too far gone to be eradicated easily.
Adam is still seated in front of the computer, exactly where we’d left him. Part of me wants to join him and fall back into the familiar world of the internet. Where I’ve always been the one in control rather than this new reality where everything I know is turned upside down.
“You look like hell,” he says without looking up.
“Tell me about it. At least it’s not my blood. Does it bother you?”
He shrugs. “I’ve seen worse.”
But he has a distinctive green hue to his skin that has nothing to do with the monitors and everything to do with, I suspect, a sour stomach. I drop on the couch, the cushions accepting me as one of their own. So damn soft. Exhaustion presses on me like a tidal wave.
“Sure you have. Who’s the real sweet thing here?” My voice is soft, distant. Ready to be carried away in tempting sleep. It feels like years since I got a real, good night’s sleep.
I must have dozed off for who knows how long because when my eyes blink open, there's a blanket tucked in around my shoulders, and Naomi and Devan speak in an undertone to each other.
“I’m telling you, he somehow knew where we would be, and he had his men there ready for an attack. It wasn’t a jump. They were prepared. They figured out our movements and reacted accordingly,” Devan hisses out. “I know the difference between kismet and preparation.”
“I’m not saying you don't know the difference, Dev, but how is it possible? The guys and your girlfriend went through the most secure channels, more secure than the precinct even. Don’t tell me you still think one of us is a mole.”
