Page 96 of The Villain

But he turned his back to me completely and walked alongside Mick to a table near the couch as Mick kept talking. “We take O'Shea to Paolo. He’ll probably ask you to pledge your loyalty to him, but delivering O'Shea at his feet will go a long way. You’re good at lying. He’ll bring you in, and we’ll start our plan. Might be a five-year plan. Or a ten-year plan. That’s up to you, boss.”

“What does he want with him?” Devlin didn’t even say my name, just jerked his thumb over his shoulder at me.

“He wanted him dead on a clean hit. But then Paolo heard about what happened with the Russos, and he thinks O'Shea’s behind it. So he has some…questions.” He saidquestionswith a smirk that meant I’d probably be losing some teeth and a few fingers.

A few knives and handguns lay on the table—a buffet of weapons. All Devlin had to do was grab a gun. I’d seen his aim. He’d drop both these losers in under ten seconds. Instead, he picked up a slim knife and slipped it into the side of his high-top sneaker. “How far away are we?”

Mick was nearly vibrating with happiness. “You’re in, right?”

Devlin straightened from hiding the knife in his sneaker and stared at Mick with dead eyes. “I’m in.”

I was definitely going to throw up. Did Devlin have amnesia? Could a taser and some chloroform give him memory loss? Because this was insane. Twelve hours ago, he was telling me he’d never leave my side. He’d told me that I made him happy. He’d admitted he was mine. He’d made the orca and the shark kiss, complete with smooching sounds. As he stood in this filthy basement, he still wore that stupid fucking yellow shirt that readFeeling Fin-Tastic.

He still had my cum inside of him, for fuck’s sake, because I’d woken him up this morning with my dick plugging his hole. My breath sawed out through the gag. My heartbeat thundered in my ears so loudly, that I could barely hear them talking. Panic. I was having a panic attack, and Icouldn’thave a panic attack right now. I couldn’t afford to. I forced myself to breathe deeply, and I clung to what I knew was true.

And what I knew, despite whatever was happening in this godforsaken basement, was that Devlin was mine. And I was his.

I’m yours, Cian.

You can’t take this away, Cian.

I won’t let go either.

I forced myself to stay calm. I counted down from ten, then started all over again. I watched as Devlin tucked a gun into his waistband and another knife in his pocket. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I had to trust him. The alternative would shatter my heart. Whatever Bianchi did to me would pale in comparison to the pain of Devlin’s betrayal. I had to trust the words he’d said to me, the feel of his tongue on my palm as he’d eaten from my hands, and the tightness of his arms as he clung to me in his sleep.

If I was wrong, and he planned to step on me to get back on his criminal throne, then shame on me. Shame onfuckingme. And I deserved whatever happened next for being so damn stupid.

Devlin turned to Mick, his gaze never finding mine, even when I tried to search it out. “Can we leave now?”

Mick scratched the back of his head. “I mean. Yeah, sure. Do you wanna change or…?” He gestured to Devlin’s ridiculous shirt.

Dev stared right at Mick, but his hand came up and his fingers brushed across the printed cartoon shark. His eyes flickered, just once, nearly imperceptible to anyone else. But I caught it. For a half second, I saw the Devlin from the beach, the one who couldn’t swim, ate half a pizza, and wanted to feed the seagulls. My heart thudded.

And then he was gone, and the Detroit Devil was back. He looked at Mick and said, “No need. I’m ready to get my future back on track.”

I want the mundane shit with you.

I could really go for some mundane right about now.

Devlin

I couldn’t look at him.

If I did, this would be all over. I’d have a bullet in Mick’s brain and another in Ryan’s before either of them knew who killed them.

Cian sat in the back of the van with the gag still in his mouth and his hands tied behind his back. I was up front with Mick, Ryan in the seats behind us. Back in that basement, before Ryanhad picked up Cian from the floor, he’d kicked him hard in the thigh for no fucking reason. Cian hadn’t reacted much except for the flare of his nostrils and a muffled grunt, but I knew how badly that hurt. Normally, I would’ve wanted him to treat a prisoner like that. Back when I’d been another person. But I wasn’t the Detroit Devil anymore. Not deep down. But I clung to that persona now with white knuckles, because keeping up the mask was the only way we’d get out of here alive.

Admittedly, I was taking a risk. A huge one. It’d been a split-second decision, and now I couldn’t back down. If Cian knew what I was thinking, he’d probably tell me off for being stupid. Iwasstupid. But that didn’t make me stop this van and end the charade. I could feel his phantom fingers on my arm, and the sharp tug as he barked in my face, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

If we made it out of this alive, he’d make me pay for this.

Paolo Bianchi had to be stopped, and the only way to stop him was to see him face-to-face. Cian was both my ticket in, and my prize for succeeding. If I fucked this up, then we’d both go down in a glaze of glory. Jace and Rhys would never forgive me.

I forced myself to stay calm. The Detroit Devil didn’t panic or second-guess decisions. The Detroit Devil was reckless and violent. I let that reputation surround me in a storm cloud of protection. Mick still saw me that way, which helped, even if my reflection in his eyes looked like a stranger. I was too soft now. Cian had molded me into something else. Intohis. I stared out the window and let that fuel me.Hewas why I was doing this. Not for myself or revenge or any other fucked up reason I’d relied on for the past ten years. This was about eliminating the threat to Cian. He had given me everything, including something to stand for, something to believe in. The motley family back at Frank. Me and Him. Our future.

I didn’t need to be protected or coddled. I wanted to be kept, and Cianpossessedme. He owned me, and I owned him back.That flame of hope burned in a permanent spot in my chest now, and no one got to kill it, especially not Paolo Bianchi.

I inhaled. Exhaled. The strength of a real purpose flowed through me, and my heart slowed to a reasonable tempo. The only thing that mattered was Cian, and I’d die before some wanna be mobster took him out.