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“What do you think?” There it was again, that slight vulnerability in Dev’s voice, as if he worried about my opinion, like it mattered even though I’d be stuck here regardless of how I felt about his interior decorating skills.
But it wasn’t his worry that had me breathing, “I love it,” against the pane of windows, my breath fogging the glass.
It was his smile, which I saw in the reflection of the glass wall in front of us. The wide grin that took over his face and crinkled his eyes, so similar to that first smile he gave me. When his hands were covered in blood and there was a dead body between us, but he still found the time to introduce himself, as if he wanted to make a good first impression.
It was the smile that made me trust him, go with him without truly knowing who he was, that made me feel warm and comfortable and safe despite the situation I had been put in. It was the same comfort that I felt in the walls of this home, with the warm lighting and soft fabrics. And it made sense, suddenly, why this was Dev’s house rather than the log cabin or Batman-like secret cave. It was because this home wasn’t Dev’s job or the persona he put on for the people he worked with.
This home washis, what he was truly like, the person who helped me calm down when I was panicking or made me trust him when I had little reason to. The type of man who married a stranger to help his friends and worried about my comfort rather than his own. Who gave up months of his life and free time to look out for my safety, not for the paycheck, but for the way it could benefit those around him.
So it was no wonder I already felt comfortable here, in this unfamiliar home with this unfamiliar man. Because he already felt familiar, already made me feel so protected, and this home was everything he was.
“Ready to check out your room?” Dev’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, his hand reaching down to wrap loosely around mine as he led us to a closed door across the hallway. It was the only one we’d skipped during our earlier tour through the second floor, but I’d assumed it was closed to hide weapons or secrets, not so that Dev could surprise me.
And he did, squeezing my hand in a sharp pulse as he turned the knob, as if he were nervous about my opinion as he opened the door.
It was my bedroom. Or at least the things from my bedroom, set up in the large guest room in front of me. My bedspread, laying across a bed frame that matched the one in Dev’s room. The standing desk and walking pad I used as I edited, if only to keep myself sane as I worked alone day after day. My clothes,hanging from the open closet, a few bottles of my perfume set on the dresser.
My mouth opened, but no words came out as I continued to take in the sight before me. I heard the tapping of Dev’s foot again as I tried to organize my thoughts, his words coming before mine, tumbling out of him in a rush.
“I tried to grab as much as I could, but I couldn’t risk spending too much time in the apartment, in case anyone was watching. I didn’t want them to be able to trace you back to me. I’m sorry if I missed anything important.”
He hadn’t. I’d grown up worried I’d be found out or my father would be arrested, that I’d have to leave or enter witness protection at a moment’s notice. Even though none of those things ever happened, I’d taught myself that nothing was irreplaceable, and the things that mattered most should be with you at all times. My thumb rubbed the gold band on my finger, the only item I would’ve missed, before turning around to face Dev.
“How did you do all this? You were only gone a few hours.” I had never moved myself anywhere, growing up on the compound and staying through college, where I commuted to the local university. When I finally convinced my dad to let me move into the apartment downtown, he’d had a few of his soldiers move my things in weeks before I did.
But I’d seen television shows and movies, and moving was usually treated as a multi-day affair, with bubble wrap and blankets. Not something that happened as if by magic in half a day.
“It’s incredible what you can get done when you have money,” Dev said with a chuckle. “Your father taught Xan and me that years ago. I’ve gotten so used to watching you each day, I’ve basically memorized the layout of your bedroom and your office. I tried my best to find matches.”
I noticed the differences, then. The small inconsistencies, like the darker green of the duvet that spoke to its newness, while mine had paled with washes and wear. The company scribbled on the side of the walking pad that didn’t match mine. The fullness of the perfume bottles, newly bought. But the clothes and shoes were mine, the things that were easy for Dev to pack into bags and sneak out with.
Somehow, that meant more than it would have if he’d just paid someone to move all my things into his house. The fact that he tried to find matches to the comforts of my bedroom, if only to make me feel at home. That he dug through my belongings to choose what I’d want most. I noticed the sweaters hanging in the closet were those I wore most often, and I couldn’t bring myself to push aside the thought that Dev had watched me closely enough for months to know which items of clothing I wore most.
And I realized, looking at my clothes in the closet and my perfume on the dresser, that I could fall for Dev. Or rather, that Dev would force me to fall for him without a thought, just by being himself. By being kind and caring and putting my comforts first, by talking me down from my panic and being my friend.
I was self-aware enough to know I was lonely. That I’d spent most of the first six years of my life without family, and that no matter how much Cormac and his family loved me, their love never fully eased the ache of my loneliness, which ate at my soul in a way that made me desperate. I already felt much too attached to Wren and Ames after a couple days in their company. Even Bex and Alex felt familiar, if only because of the reassurances they gave me over my safety. Losing the first actual friends I’d made, even after such a short time in their presence, would be hard after a lifetime of wishing for them.
But Dev? He was a dream wrapped in a nightmare, bringing me comfort even as my life fell to pieces at my feet. He was ahero cloaked in shadows, and every ounce of me felt pulled into his orbit without a breath of effort on his part.
And it was there, standing in the house of the man I was engaged to, in the bedroom he’d worked so painstakingly to recreate in a way that would make me feel comfortable, as my heart squeezed so hard I thought it might burst, that I realized: Dev could destroy me.
Chapter 12
Rory
It took two weeks.Two weeks to build up any progress on the walls I was fortifying around my heart in preparation for my marriage.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Dev or his friends; it was that I didn’t trust myself. The only thing I’d learned from my parents’ marriage - which had ended with my mother abandoning both me and my father when I was still in diapers - was that marriage meant nothing.
They always said blood was thicker than water, but that wasn’t true. It felt laughable to imply that one was so much stronger than the other, especially since the blood tying my mother to me wasn’t enough to keep her in my life. Then again, the marriage certificate hadn’t been enough to keep her tied to my father, either. So I had no false notions that the marriage between me and Dev would guarantee anything.
My marriage to Dev meant protection for myself and for his friends, but that was the extent of it. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, but one that could crumble at any point. If John and Cian - who my father had assigned permanently to Wren and Ames - failed in their job, or if the threat against me endangered them? What would keep them from cutting theirties to keep themselves safe, to keep Dev from divorcing me or leaving me?
I refused to be my father, still alone and heartbroken years after being abandoned. So, after my realization on the day I moved into Dev’s house, I began to build my walls as armor, protecting myself from the possibility of future heartbreak. Only after two weeks, my walls were still flimsy and poorly constructed, ready to be knocked down at the slightest provocation.
It wasn’t that I had no sense of self-preservation. I’d spent my life building up walls, sturdy walls, the type that kept the loneliness as far down as I could push it. That kept others out, if only to save us both the disappointment when they failed to get to know me because I - for my own safety - couldn’t be known. So no, it wasn’t that I didn’t know how to build effective walls. It was that Dev was even more effective at knocking them down.
It started with breakfast.I woke up on my first morning in Dev’s home to the quiet of the forest, his fresh laundry scent, and the newly built bricks of the fortress around my heart. After showing me my bedroom the night before, Dev had made himself scarce, letting me settle in without his presence, as if he knew I needed the space. Sleeping without him wrapped around me had helped my focus, allowing me to build my armor without interference.
