Chapter 18

"I can't believeyour car caught on fire!" Karen shakes her head while we finish breakfast at a café on the Upper East Side.

The accident was two days ago, and it feels like it was all a dream. Like it happened to someone else.

But it didn't. It happened to me. To us. My God, Devlin could've died. I could've lost him forever.

A pang hits my chest.

"Yeah…me neither." I feign shock. "My father said the fire department ruled it as bad wiring."

Now, that's not true, obviously. My father paid them off. That's what Iseult said. It seems like my family's connections are deeper than I've realized. Who else have they paid off, and for what sorts of things?

It makes me wonder back to my mom's death, and I plan to ask Iseult about it when this all dies down. I'm not a child anymore. I should know what happened to my own mother.

I finish off my bagel with cream cheese and crumple the wrapper in my palm, starting to get up and head out.

"Where are you off to today?" She tosses her breakfast burrito wrapper and empty coffee cup into the nearby trash can.

"I'm gonna go see Devlin. He came home from the hospital today, and I don't want him to be alone." I grab the bagel I got him just in case he didn't eat this morning.

"Aww, look at you, taking care of your man."

"Shut up." My lips flicker, and I playfully shove her. "If it hadn't been for him, I could've died."

Her face grows somber. "I'm glad you didn't." She twists her mouth. "You're my favorite bitch."

"Thanks for the sweet compliment. You always have a way with words." I give her a big hug. "Please be careful getting back to the dorm."

"Why?" Her brows furrow. "Think my car is gonna blow up too?"

She laughs, but I don't find it funny. Whoever is after me could come after her. When it comes to evil people, there are no innocents. Everyone can fall prey. I'm starting to learn that about my life.

"Of course not." I let a reassuring smile slip even as my pulse kicks up. "It's the city. You always have to be careful."

She shrugs off my concern. "Please. The city is as scary as the rats in the subways. Harmless. Now go see that sexy bodyguard of yours." She eyes Rogue, my current replacement until Devlin gets better. "Now, the new one? He's mine."

She grins at him flirtatiously and gives him a little wave. His dark eyes narrow at her, and his bulging arms remain crossed as he sits at a table near ours.

She leans in toward my ear. "I think he likes me."

"Uh…if you say so."

When we start heading for the door, Rogue gets up, his large frame easily six-five. He's someone I'd see around my dad's academy, a school for elite soldiers in his little army. Yes, he has an army. And I assume they do more than just defend his massive estate or protect us.

Rogue follows us out, and Karen gets in her car after a long walk to where we parked. But before he allows me into his Rolls-Royce, he checks it for bugs and bombs, using a small circular device someone on my father's team created.

This is my life now. Danger everywhere. And now my dad won't even let me drive.

"Okay, Rogue, I think we're safe."

"Can never be too careful, ma'am." His face is stoic.

I swear these men who work for my dad are paid to look pissed off.

Once he's satisfied, he allows me to get in and follows to the driver's side.

"Just going to Devlin's."

"Yes, ma'am." He starts the engine and takes us to the Upper West Side, where Devlin has his apartment.

Thirty minutes later, we've found a spot a few blocks away and arrive at his building.

Rogue is right behind me as I head into the complex and ring Devlin's doorbell from the lobby.

"Who is it?" His voice is a rough, yet soothing concoction.

A smile spreads on my face. "It's me. I just wanted to see?—"

The door buzzes instantly, and I rush inside and into the elevator with Rogue. He remains silent, staring at the door while I ache to see Devlin. To hold him. To make sure he's okay.

Ding.

When the elevator arrives, I dash out of it and straight for his apartment, knocking on his door just as it opens.

I inhale and hold my breath.

Unable to do much else.

Because…uh… He's shirtless. Kind of sweaty too, like he's just finished a workout, which would be insane considering he just got out of the hospital. But this is Devlin, of course.

His palm lands on the doorjamb, the veins in his hand and forearm throbbing, practically ripping through his skin.

My tongue slips past my lips, my body growing taut and warm.

Gray sweats hang low on his hips, exposing a deep V. And his abs… I'm counting eight, and they look like they're cut from glass.

Am I supposed to talk? Don't think I can manage that right now.

I've never seen him shirtless before, and a shirtless Devlin with those thick veins running up his arms is a sight I wasn't ready for this early in the morning.

I don't miss the bandage wrapped around his upper arm. I didn't realize he had an injury there. And there's a smaller gauze pad on his forehead too.

My heart tugs, wanting to take care of him.

"Come in." His smirk drops right into my stomach, heavy and overwhelming, and I know he's caught me staring.

More like gawking. My cheeks heat up instantly.

Suddenly, his demeanor shifts, and his glare sends a cold shudder down my spine as his attention zaps to the man behind me. He looks like he wants to take his head off.

"This is Rogue." I quickly glance back at the man.

They both stare at one another, and something passes between them. Nothing good.

Rogue's mouth twitches, if one can even call it that. "We've met."

I clear my throat, needing to defuse this unfriendly interaction. I start inside, hoping Devlin follows.

"I'll let you know when I'm done here. Thanks, Rogue."

Devlin grabs my hand, sending a tingle running up my arm, and pulls me all the way inside, kicking the door closed with his foot.

"What was that about?" I whisper, not wanting Rogue to hear.

Devlin keeps our hands locked as he takes me further into the lavish penthouse apartment he's rented. It's a one-bedroom, but the living space and size of the rooms is huge, and I know it costs a pretty penny.

Devlin isn't the kind of man who acts like he has money, but he's got a lot of it doing what he does for my father. I'm sure he's saved most of it too.

"We trained together at your father's academy. He was always too cocky. Thought he was too good until I beat him." He huffs a chuckle. "Don't like him, and I sure as hell don't like him being assigned to you."

Nervous butterflies soar in my gut. "Got it. Well, if it makes you feel any better, he's been nothing but nice, and definitely not cocky. Maybe he's changed since you knew him."

He snickers. "Doubt it."

He winces as he pulls me into the kitchen, and I almost forgot about the bag in my hand.

"What do you have in there?" He eyes the contents, and he gives me one of those Devlin smiles, those tiny flickers into the real man. The one he shows just me.

I've missed those smiles.

"I got you breakfast." I lift the bag and shake it a little. "Did you eat yet?"

"No…" His voice drops and turns deep as he prowls closer, tugging my jaw in his calloused hand. "But now I'm suddenly famished."

My eyes widen, and I gulp down. His stare is intense and full of unrelenting prowess. And something in it makes my heart beat faster, because it almost feels like he's hungry for me…

His eyes sear into mine, leaving a trail of heat and awakened desire behind.

"Thank you for thinking of me, love," he husks, and my throat goes dry.

That seductive baritone makes every inch of me come alive.

"Welcome." My voice comes out tinier than I intended, but I'm insanely nervous, and having him looking at me this way, touching me this way… It makes me recall what happened between us that night.

"Did you eat?" he asks, cupping my cheek, his lips dropping lower, his arm curling around my back and molding my body to his.

My lungs still as I wait, hoping for his mouth to meet mine.

I nod, a shiver rushing up my spine.

"That's too bad." He brushes his thumb over my lips. "I was hoping to feed you."

Am I allowed to change my answer? Because I'm suddenly starving.

My God, what is happening? And how can I have more of this every single day?

His responding chuckle makes every inch of me tingle.

"Come on, I'll make you a cup of coffee. I know how much you like coffee." He drags me into the kitchen, his hand in mine, and this feeling drops into my stomach where your heart's actually smiling. Really smiling.

He pulls out a stool for me in front of the white marble island and clutches my hips to help me up. But instead of moving away, he remains there, between my open thighs, his palms remaining right above my knees, massaging my skin. His breathing grows raspier, a muscle in his neck popping.

My chest rises and falls with every exhale.

"I'm glad you're here, mo stoirín."

Me too…

I go breathless, wishing I knew what he just called me. Before I can ask, he drops his hands away, heads toward the coffee machine, and proceeds to make me a cup.

His back flexes, every sinew rippling, and I've immediately come to realize I have a thing for backs. Or maybe just his back. His body is beautiful. As though carved by Michelangelo himself.

When he turns around with a mug in hand, my face grows all hot as I think of him taking me up on the counter. He places it before me and settles across from me, opening the bag of food I brought and unwrapping his bagel.

I quickly grab the steaming cup and drink it, hoping not to show how much he affects me. "How's your head and your arm?"

He glances down at his wound for a moment. "I'll be fine. Doc said to change the bandages every few days. I should be cleared to work soon too. So I hope you're not missing me too much." His teasing smirk just about evaporates all the air from my lungs.

"Nah." I flip a shoulder. "Rogue is doing just fine."

His smile immediately disappears.

"I'm only joking!" I let out a laugh.

"I don't find the thought of you and Rogue being that close to each other all that funny."

He's serious. If looks could kill…

I try not to laugh again.

I drag another long pull of my coffee before climbing out of my chair and walking around to him, cupping the stubble of his cheek. "If this is you being jealous, Devlin McHale, I like it. A lot."

He grabs my wrist and brings my fingertips to his mouth, kissing them as his intense gaze fastens to mine.

I inhale sharply from the way his mouth feels on my skin.

"Just because I said I can't be with you doesn't mean that the thought of any other man being near you doesn't make me want to rip out his bloody heart. No one is safe." His mouth tips up on one side.

In his words, I find warmth, like a blanket I'm wrapped up in. Yet at the same time, I'm cold. Because without him, I always will be.

"Then it's a good thing I plan to become a cat lady." I lift my chin with a tight, playful smile.

He bursts with a chuckle.

"What's so funny? Don't like cats? I'll have you know I plan to have a minimum of ten."

His laughter dies down as he shakes his head. "My God, don't think I've laughed like that in forever."

I run my hand through his thick hair and pull until he groans, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back. His mouth looks soft and firm all at once, and I want to lean down and kiss him.

Instead, I say, "Can I change your bandage before I go?"

I just want to take care of him the way he's always taken care of me.

His brows knit. "You'd want to do that?"

"Of course." My palm settles on the side of his neck, feeling his maddening pulse, the same way mine beats. "Just tell me where I can find the gauze and stuff."

"In the main bathroom, under the sink."

I start in that direction.

"Eriu?"

"Yeah?" My heart picks up speed when those eyes, those adoring eyes, stare back at me.

"Thank you."

Pain lodges in the back of my throat.

I love you.

"No problem."

Quickly, I scurry away, not wanting my tears to betray me. As soon as I'm in the bathroom, I kneel to grab the emergency kit. Taking a deep breath or five, I steady my precarious emotions before allowing myself to face him again.

When I'm ready, I walk back out, finding him facing away from the counter.

When his eyes connect with mine, that feeling of longing, that intense connection between us, returns. I fight it as I find my place by his thighs.

He drops his elbow on the counter, gazing down at me, and that just makes it hard to work.

Gently, I undo the medical tape and remove the gauze, full of blood. The cut looks deep, and I grimace.

"Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head. But I'm sure he's lying. There's no way it doesn't. He watches me as I unpack the new gauze and place it around his wound while he picks up the tape and cuts pieces for me. I avoid his gaze as I finish his arm and move on to his head, finding every atom in my body firing off.

Why does he have to watch me like that? Like he's dying to throw me on his lap and kiss me. My God, this is hell.

"All done." I take a step back, but his arm curls around the small of my back.

"Thanks, love. You really didn't have to do that." His warm breaths coast across my lips, and I don't even know if I'm capable of walking any longer. "Call me when you get back to your room or I'll worry."

"Mm-hmm."

His arm falls to his side, and he gets off the chair to walk me to the door, his body close behind, the heat of it radiating in waves.

He reaches around me for the door handle, but makes no attempt to open it. Every inch of me wants to fight to remain right here, but I know I have to go.

"I'll see you later," I tell him, and with a deep sigh, he lets me out.

Once he sees Rogue again, he growls right under his breath.

I stifle a laugh as he watches us all the way until we disappear out of sight.

And I swear I hear him mutter a curse as he shuts the door with a bang echoing through the hall.

Arriving back at my dorm, I head inside the building while Rogue stands in front of it.

I have nothing to do today except some homework that I'm behind on. Might as well do it now. I'm sure Karen will want to hang out later.

Entering my code, I strut inside.

And as soon as I do, all the air leaves my lungs. I back into the door, my heart beating right out of my chest.

"Wha-what are you…?"

"What am I doing here?" Mason rises from my bed, a menacing sneer on his face. "I came to see my fiancée, and she wasn't home, so I let myself in."

"How?" I whisper.

"I have ways."

In his hand is a large manila envelope. I'm afraid of asking what's inside.

"We need to talk."

"About wh-what?" I try to move past him, but he cages me in, and the terrifying look on his face has me trembling.

He catches my wrist harshly, pinching my skin as he drags me to the bed and throws me onto it. I remain seated, gasping and heaving as he towers over me, his glare cutting into me like glass. He rips open the envelope and throws photos at me.

"Look at them!"

With a jittery hand, I snatch one and gulp, sweat coating my brow. I pick up another photo and find more of the same.

Me with Karen and Adam. All of us in masks. Heading inside the club.

Another photo is of Karen and me in her car.

"You had me followed?"

He bends and grabs my jaw. "Of course I did. I knew I couldn't trust you to do your part. Instead, my man found these!" He glances at the photos in disgust. "Where were you going dressed like a whore?!" His hand whips out, and he slaps me across the face.

I wince, holding my cheek while it burns. Tears swim in my eyes.

"I—I was just going to a masquerade party. I—I didn't do anything." I sniffle, fearing the look on his face, wishing Devlin was here.

Oh, God. What is he going to do to me?

"Liar!" He yanks me by my hair and forces me to my feet. "I need this marriage, you bitch! Do you hear me?!" He locks my strands in his vengeful fist. "You're ruining everything!"

"Please," I cry. "You're…you're hurting me."

"Good." He laughs humorlessly. "I could do worse. I could show these pictures to your father. Let him decide where you were going. Because I don't believe you. This innocent virgin act isn't the real you, is it?"

He drops his face close to mine, and I taste the hint of beer mixed with his foul breath.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was out with friends." Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.

"If I catch you going there again, you will pay for this."

Once he releases me, I rub at my scalp, the pain shooting down my neck.

He gathers the photos from my bed and stuffs them back inside.

"Were…were you serious about me being a virgin before marriage?"

My pulse shoots out of my throat, like it's living outside of my body, but I need to know. I need to be sure before I do something I can't take back.

His palm snaps around my throat and squeezes so hard, I can't seem to breathe. "If you decide to fuck someone so I don't marry you, I'll make your life hell. I'll humiliate you. Make you a laughingstock. Let everyone know what a slut Eriu Quinn is. And no one will touch you. So go ahead. Do what you're thinking and see what happens to you."

My inhale catches in my throat, and I blink past the moisture continuing to build in my eyes.

With a final look of disdain, he marches out. As soon as he's gone, I rush for the door and let out a sob, pressing my back against the hard surface.

As I slide down against it, my face hits my knees while I silently cry. I can't go on this way. If no one is gonna help me, I have to help myself. And if he decides to spread rumors about me, let him. It'll just end up getting him killed.

I swipe under my eyes and get to my feet, knowing sitting here and crying isn't going to solve my problems. Getting my cellphone from my bed, I scroll through my emails to the one I'm looking for. Staring at the application the owner of the club sent me, I read over the questions before I get to the end, the fine print.

Carefully, I glance over the terms, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

Once I submit the application, it's non-reversable. I commit to this and can't change my mind.

What happens to the girls who do change their minds, though?

But with the kind of man who owns that club, I don't want to know.

Am I really doing this? Am I applying for the auction?

But I have to do something. I can't go on like this.

Before I change my mind, I fill it out, attach a photo of myself, and hit submit.

It's done. I did it. And I instantly regret it, my stomach knotting with tension, but this is the only way to get Mason out of my life for good.

I curl into a fetal position and wish this life away. But it's mine, and I have to do what I can to make it worth living.

There's a heavy knock on my door, and I instantly flinch awake, my pulse picking up speed as I realize I passed out on my bed.

I know it's probably Rogue checking in on me, but in my mind, it's Mason coming back to finish what he started. I still don't understand how he managed to get my code for the door.

I brush a hand down my face when another knock comes, harder this time.

"Eriu! Open up."

"Devlin?" Shock weaves into my voice as I jump out of bed and rush for the door.

As soon as I open it, a concerned Devlin looks me up and down. "Are you okay?"

"Um…"

My bottom lip quivers and my fingers rub at my neck. I can't seem to keep it together.

His nostrils widen, and he's forcing himself past the threshold and roughly shutting the door. "Eriu?"

His fingers find my chin, and he tilts it up to inspect my throat, anger flaming in his eyes.

"Feck…" His jaw twitches. "He left a mark on you?"

"What?" I choke out, my pulse quickening even more.

Is there a mark on my neck? Oh, no!

"It was Mason." He says it like he knows already. "He hurt you, right?"

My chin quivers, and a sob breaks free. Then I'm throwing myself into his arms and he's holding me, making me feel safer. I needed this more than anything.

"I'm so sorry. I'm gonna make this right. I promise. And no one will hurt you again. I swear it."

"Please…" I push back at his chest and stare up into his tranquil blue eyes. "Please don't do anything that could hurt you."

"Do you know what it does to me to know he laid hands on you and is still alive to talk about it?"

"Don't kill him. Not for me."

"I've gotta go." He cups my cheeks and his forehead meets mine, his mouth brushing against my lips until my heart skips a beat.

I want to feel his lips again and again.

He kisses me on my temple and breathes me in slow, like he's savoring me.

Before I can tell him not to leave, not to do whatever he's planning, he's out the door, and I'm afraid of what will happen when he's done.