Page 9 of The Devil

People are openly looking at us now. She notices. “Let me go.”

I draw her closer, step between her and them. “I would never hurt you or Daniel. Never.”

She turns her face away but not before I see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I need to get out of here.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Let go. I can’t do this.”

“I’m not letting you go.”

“I can’t fucking breathe in here!” she snaps too loud.

I grit my teeth, feeling the eyes on the back of my head. “Okay. You need air? Fine. Let’s go get you some air.”

Holding onto her, I walk her across the room to the exit. Although I have an apartment here, this isn’t home.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I lead her outside. “I can’t leave Daniel.”

I slip my phone out of my pocket and type out a text. “There. Allegra will take him home. You’ll see him tonight.”

I signal to the valet who has the Porsche parked before us in a minute. I open the passenger door.

“Get in.”

“I can’t just leave.”

“Yeah, you can. You are. In, Amal. Now.”

3

AMAL

Forest eyes hold me prisoner. I hug my arms to myself. Day is turning to night, and the brisk temperature of earlier has turned outright freezing.

“My coat,” I say because I don’t know this new version of Jet. The one who admits to liking the violence. Sometimes.

That ‘sometimes’ is bullshit.

Without a word, Jet slips his jacket off. He’s pissed. I can see it in the way he’s moving, in his narrowed eyes, the set of his jaw.

He slides his coat over my shoulders. It’s warm and smells like him and there’s some part of me that wants to believe that it’s safe.

That he’s safe.

Wordlessly, I climb into the SUV. He closes the door and walks around to the driver’s side. We don’t speak as he pulls off the property. It takes a few minutes for me to realize we’re headed to the cliff road.

The drive is quiet, the cloudless night lit by stars as we get farther and farther from the lights of the city. He doesn’t play music and we don’t speak. I should say something. Tell him I didn’t mean it. Tell him I know he wouldn’t hurt me. I’m not sure that would be the truth though.

I glance at his profile. Apart from a few days here or there, I haven’t seen Jet in four years. Haven’t really talked to him, either. After Malek went to war with Cassian, a war that Cassian won, Cassian sent Daniel and me to our grandmother in Florida, which was a good thing, especially for my brother. Since then, we’ve all realized just how many enemies Malek made in his lifetime. I don’t really think anyone knew the extent of it.

Jet’s changed since then, but so have I.

When I first went to him for help, I was seventeen years old. I guess I had a lot more balls then. I called an Uber and walked out of my high school’s front doors because I needed to get to Allegra and he was the way to do that.

The Jet of four years ago was younger, although not more innocent. He’d always had a darkness to him, but it hadn’t consumed him. Not yet. Now there’s something colder about him. Harder and more ruthless.

Not to mention dangerous.