Page 102 of My Fallen Saint

I frown, then shake my head, the smallest of movements. “What are you saying?”

He exhales. “I’m saying that whatever you believe about me, you’re wrong. I am dangerous. More than that, I’m a danger to you. Just being associated with me puts you in the crosshairs. There are people who—if they knew who I really am—”

“I know. Of course, I know. There’s no way you could have shut down your father’s enterprise entirely. If those people knew you were his son, they’d—”

“It’s not just that. I’m—fuck.”

I shift to see him better, alarmed by the heat in his voice. “Devlin?”

He sighs, then rubs his temples as he shakes his head and I try to control the pounding of my heart.

“Dammit, Devlin, talk to me.”

He draws in a breath, then turns his head to look at me, and even in the dim light, I can see the storm brewing behind his eyes. “In bed, I would never hurt you. But in the world? In the world, I don’t have that kind of control.”

“Devlin—”

“No. Listen to me. That’s why no matter what you want—no matter what I want—this is going to end.”

My gut twists, but I can’t argue, even though I want to. But my voice is still choked when I say, “Do you think I don’t know that? I’m not still sixteen and clinging to fantasies.”

“I just want to say it. I want it out there. Because I think we both need to hear it.”

I sag a bit. “Right. Okay. Noted.” I swallow. “The profile is almost put to bed, and pretty soon Roger will insist I work on a story other than just the one about Peter. And I am paying hefty rent on an apartment in New York.” Every word out of my mouth depresses me.

I suck in a breath to gather my courage, then say aloud the truth that’s been twisting around inside me for days. “You’re right. Danger doesn’t scare me. But losing you again does. Devlin, I don’t want to go.”

“I know. But you will. Because even if you stay, you won’t be with me.” He turns to face me. “I will always protect you, El. No matter what the cost. Even if it means I leave you.”