Page 42 of Pain

Try as I might, I couldn’t understand what the hell had just happened. One moment, I’d been lying in bed with Saraya, trying to wrap my head around what we’d done together and figure out how she might feel about it. I’d been warm and safe and incredibly satisfied, and I’d been thinking about kissing her again and seeing where it might lead.

Then there’d been the knock on the door. Mandy’s angry face when I opened it. Her questions and accusations. The picture.

The idea that the Steed were coming after us again, and they were going to do it tonight.

And then Mandy’s insane statement that she’d almost lost Gem because of Saraya, and that further, she thought I was doing everything I’d done just to fuck Devil’s girl.

And then Saraya had flown off the bed, and Mandy had tackled her, and from there...

Well, Saraya had somehow managed to get half-dressed, fly across the room, go to battle for her own honor, shake me off, and then take Mandy down. Mandy was no slouch, and she also had several inches and at least 20 pounds on Saraya, so that was saying something. Hell, Saraya didn’t even look like she’d broken a sweat over the whole thing. She’d just... done it.

And now she was sitting on my bed holding Mandy, who was going to pieces and grasping at Saraya like the smaller girl was the only thing that might save her.

I did not understand women.

And I didn’t understand Saraya. Her battle alone had been a tour de force, but for her to have stopped the fight so quickly, told Mandy she forgave her, and then become some sort of therapist to my sobbing friend?

I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and I didn’t think that had anything to do with the fact that I hadn’t had coffee yet. No amount of coffee would have made it any more believable, or made me understand it any better.

The truth was, I wasn’t sure anyone could have understood it better. Because I wasn’t sure anyone else in the world would have done what Saraya just did. Could have done what Saraya just did. What kind of girl listens to someone else essentially calling her a piece of meat, goes to battle over that statement, and then calmly forgives the girl who’d insulted her? What kind of girl then goes on to hold the other girl while she sobs like her life had just come to an end?

I’ll tell you what sort of girl does that: a girl like Saraya Post. A girl who is strong enough to attach herself to a man like Devil and handle him, and then survive him when he turns violent. A girl who is brave enough to run when she sees the opportunity, and smart enough to look up at me and see someone who might save her. A girl who’ll come right in and make friends with everyone she can reach, and who helps to doctor the man who’s been trying to throw her out.

No one else might have done what she’d just done, but that was because Saraya Post wasn’t like anyone else. She was entirely herself, and entirely wonderful.

I’d thought last night that I was falling for her, but I hadn’t known then what I was talking about. Because right now, watching her comfort Mandy after Mandy had just tried to kick her ass and thinking about how special and unique she was, I felt myself...

Hell, I didn’t even know how to explain it. If I’d been in deep before, I was deeper than deep now. Like, below-the-sand-of-the-ocean deep. I was seeing Saraya not only as a strong, resilient girl, but as a compassionate woman as well. The kind who went out of her way to help others, even when they might not deserve her help. The kind who threw her own needs to the side in the face of someone else’s pain. She was a strong girl, yes, but she was also a shoulder to cry on. A friend.

A partner.

She was exactly the sort of partner any man would be lucky to have. The kind of girl who would back you up when you needed it and then give you her opinion about how stupid you were being behind closed doors. She wouldn’t hesitate to tell you when you were wrong, I didn’t think, but she’d do it in a way that helped you move forward.

And then she’d hold your hand and walk forward with you.

Hell, Devil was an idiot. He’d had that in his hands, and he’d fucked it up. Worse, he’d tried to kill her. Hurt her. Punished her for reasons I would probably never understand.

And he thought he was going to get her back to keep on doing it.

Well, he was going to be waiting an awfully long time, because there was no way in hell I was handing her back to him.

“Let’s get you back to your own room,” Saraya suddenly said—to Mandy, not to me.

The other girl nodded, still shuddering with sobs, and I quickly moved out of the way to let them get to the door, still put off by all the tears and crying. I’d never been good with emotions. I’d definitely never been good with girls crying.

And as far as I was concerned, if they wanted to take that particular show out of my room and to another, it was for the best.

I watched them go, still marveling at Saraya’s ability to turn a would-be enemy into a friend, and then left my room and went to find Gemini. My VP and I needed to talk, and not only about how his girlfriend was behaving. I wasn’t surprised at all to find him in the kitchen eating something out of a Tupperware bowl. The man had an appetite that just wouldn’t quit, and I didn’t think getting shot would stop it.

“Leave some for the rest of us,” I said, sliding into a chair at the table.

He huffed. “They’ll cook something else for lunch. The rest of you won’t starve. Besides, I’m the one who got shot. Makes a man hungry.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I get shot,” I said, suppressing a smile.

Instead of laughing, though, he jerked his gaze up to mine, very, very serious. “You don’t get to get shot, Knight. We need you alive and functioning. Leading the club.”

I stopped smiling. “Well, that’s a loaded statement.”