Page 49 of My Cruel Salvation

On the screen, I see Ronan smile. He’s gotten there ahead of Devlin, which is a rare thing.

“You have a press conference planned for the day after tomorrow, right? Have the team go in then.”

“And while you’re busy with the press, we’ll be busy taking out your enemy,” Ronan says.

“I want this fucker,” Devlin says. He stands up and starts to pace. “I want him so bad I can taste it. He’s been a thorn in my side, and he’s only digging in deeper.”

“And you’ll get him,” I say. “This team works for you, doesn’t it? You started Saint’s Angels. Did you expect to go on every single mission?

“You’re a leader,” Ronan says, his voice through the speaker filling the dingy motel room. “Fucking lead.”

“And you’re an ass,” Devlin says.

Ronan shrugs, his shoulders rising into the frame. “Part of the job description.” He glances at me. “But your girlfriend is right. Her plan is solid. We do that, I think we have an even better chance of ending this now.”

He looks hard at Devlin as I preen a little. It’s the first time I’ve really felt included and valued by Ronan.

“Well?” Ronan demands.

I watch as Devlin takes a breath, then releases it. He wants to be there, I get that. This is personal. I get that too. But I see the decision in his eyes before he speaks, and it’s the right one. “Okay,” he says. “I guess I’m staying behind.”

He ends the call right after.

“I need you tonight, El. Hell, I need you every night, but I especially want you now. This night.”

I nod. I understand what he’s not saying, what he may not even understand himself. Not in the moment, anyway.

He’s just surrendered control of this mission to his best friend. It doesn’t weaken him, but it’s not a place that Devlin Saint is used to being. He needs that sense of being in control, of being the man in charge. Of being the one who makes things happen. Tonight, I know, I will receive all of the essential benefits of that need.

I rise on my toes and put my arms around him and brush my lips over his. “You know, I’m always yours. Whenever, however. You don’t have to ask. You can just take. Because that’s what we are to each other.”

I see heat and love when he looks back into my eyes. “Yes,” he says. “That’s what we are.”

Chapter Nineteen

I hear Christopher’s voice the moment we walk through the front door of Brandy’s house. He’s laughing with her from somewhere in the kitchen, and I catch Devlin’s eyes before we head that direction. It’s just the two of them, and I assume Lamar got called back to work. Christopher looks up from where he’s pouring wine, and I see that some of it dribbles over the glass and onto the stone countertop. He fumbles, puts the bottle down, and wipes up the mess. About thirty, Christopher has a lean face, golden hair, and an easy smile that right now looks a little shaky.

He picks up the glass and takes a long sip of wine.

“It’s good to see you,” Devlin says. “I’m sorry if it’s been awkward for you, but we all understand you can’t choose your relatives.”

“Thanks for that,” Christopher says, and I can hear the relief in his voice that Devlin jumped in and addressed the elephant in the room. “So, um, Brandy says you were out of town. How was your trip? Was it to do with Tracy’s murder?”

“Foundation work,” Devlin says, taking my hand. “Crisis management following the leak.”

I give his hand a squeeze that I hope he interprets as understanding. We trust Christopher, sure. But he’s not in the loop. And that is fine by me. Right now, all I really want is a change of subject. Because there’s nothing more awkward than knowing your boyfriend is about to have someone killed, and that someone is the half-brother of the guy standing three feet away from you. Estranged half-brother, true, but it still feels surreal.

“I think we should put in a really bad movie and just chill,” I say. “We all could use a break from reality. And I’m thinking that wine would be a good idea too. What do you say? Do you guys want to hang out and watch a flick?”

“Does it have to be a bad movie?” Christopher asks.

Brandy and I look at each other, then burst out laughing. One of our favorite things to do together is watch bad movies.

“No,” she says, taking his hand. “We can watch whatever you want.”

“Let’s just not make it a spy movie or a thriller, okay?”

“I second that,” Devlin says.