She’d gone back to the hotel, stating that seeing me so beaten and exhausted, then having spoken with Dad, she knew she’d made a mistake by running and trying to handle things on her own.
Once she’d finished her long crying jag, she’d packed up and gone back home. Where she was met with Suzanna.
When Devolin recounted how my ex and Hewitt were linked, I almost lost my damned mind. Turns out that Psycho Suzie—as Shane and some of the others on the team had dubbed her—was a lot more crazy than I’d ever imagined. She’d been involved with Hewitt for a number of years. It had been about the money. Forget love, that woman had not one idea on how love worked. When Hewitt voiced his infatuation with Devolin, Suzanna had set a plan in motion that would ultimately lead to her demise.
“She shot at me, catching me in the side when I told her I wasn’t going with her. We were in my bedroom.” Devolin winced as she tried to readjust. “I remember watching or reading something on the Internet about not letting your captor take you to a second location.”
“That’s right,” Shane said. “What happened next?”
“I jumped her. I managed to knock the gun out of her hand, but we both ended up on the floor, me on top of her legs. The gun landed just outside my bedroom door. I managed to straddle her. I sent my elbow into her face, then I rushed out into the hall, to get to the gun.” She struggled to take a breath, her eyes cloudy as she relived the entire thing for a second time. “I made it to my knees to get up, but she hit me in the back with one of my bedside table lamps. I went down, and flipped onto my back just in time to kick her in the stomach. I got to the living room and pointed the gun at her. She was screaming that I’d hurt Dalton like I’d ruined Hewitt. I don’t even know what that means! Gordon and I were never involved in more than an employer-employee type relationship.” Her eyes were wild. “Then she yelled that she was going to kill me.” Closing her eyes, a singular tear trailed down her cheek. “There wasn’t any time for me to get my phone to call anyone. I’d left it on the couch when I first got home. So I lifted the gun and started shooting. I knew she wouldn’t stop until I was dead.” By now, Devolin’s eyes were clenched shut and her body shook as she sobbed. “I shot her. I don’t know how many bullets came out of that gun, but she kept coming at me, and I kept shooting until I ran out of bullets. That’s when you all came in.”
Knowing how the rest unfolded, I got up from my chair and took a seat on the edge of Devolin’s bed, cradling her head in my chest as I let her cry things out.
Shane met my gaze with his own sympathetic one. “Devolin, I’m going to step out for a bit and let you get some rest.” Devolin nodded. “I’ll be back in a bit so we can go over everything before you sign off. Would that be okay?” Another nod. “Okay, Huss.” That got him a humored hiccup. Setting a hand on her shoulder, he gave it a slight squeeze, then leaned down to kiss the back of her head. “You’re a true fighter, Huss. You’ll get past this, you’ll see. We’re all here for you.” Her sobs only got louder.
His eyes coming up to meet mine, we gave each other a nod, then he turned and took his leave.
Chapter 56
Devolin
Early the next morning, I was released to go home.
Mom had argued that I should be with her, but all I wanted to do was curl up in Dalton’s arms and sleep for a century. In his bed.
Truth be told, I doubt I’d be able to walk into my apartment any time soon.
To appease my mother’s hurt feelings about not staying with her, my man offered up his spare bedroom. That way we’d all be close to one another. She refused, but I could tell she appreciated the offer, citing that if it was okay, she’d go home, get some sleep, then pop by for a visit around lunchtime.
I was glad of that.
Not that I didn’t want my mother around, but Dalton and I had some things we needed to discuss. Even if we didn’t talk about everything today, we needed time to ourselves. Time to just be us. Something I’d realized that we never really had since that day at Theo and Morgan’s.
Dalton handed me one of his t-shirts.
“I could use help with changing the bandage,” I said.
His eyes bored into mine as he gave me a gruff, “Okay.”
He escorted me to the bathroom, taking the bag of medical supplies and prescriptions we’d filled on our way home with us. Setting everything on the vanity, he turned to me, his potent gaze asking for permission as his hands reached for the hem of my shirt.
I nodded.
Slowly lifting up, he peeled my shirt over my head, chucking it onto the floor.
“Fuck me.” The torture in his voice had me watching him take in the bandage on my side, as he sat on the toilet seat, and pulled me to stand between his legs before his forehead met my stomach. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened,” he whispered.
My hands sifted through his hair, his hands gripping my hips. “Kip…”
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He peered up at me. “You still have some blood on you. And then you’re going straight to bed.”
Giving him room, he went to the linen closet and pulled out a facecloth and ran the water to soak it.
As physically and emotionally exhausted as I felt, I could feel the familiar tingling my body made whenever Dalton touched me. It was an intimate moment. One so far from sexy, and nowhere near geared to anything sexual in intent, but it was candid. It was a moment just for us, filled with the ‘what-ifs’ of life, regret, gratitude, and hope.
Chucking the cloth into the garbage can when he was done, he proceeded to spread some ointment on my stitches and redressed my bullet wound. By then, I could barely stand on my feet.
Leading me to his bed, Dalton sat me down on its edge.
“Bra on or off?” he asked.
“Off.”
Not once did he look away from my eyes as he unhooked, then slid the garment from my body. Grabbing the shirt he’d taken out for me earlier, he set to put it on me.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Kissing me on the forehead, he pulled back the sheets. Settling in, he pressed his lips to mine and lingered. “Let me go lock up, and I’ll be back.”
Dalton didn’t come back.
After an hour of trying to fall asleep, I got up.
I found him nursing a glass of whiskey, if the bottle on the coffee table was anything to go by.
The floor creaked beneath my feet, giving my presence away.
“Hey,” I whispered, stopping at the edge of the couch.
“Hey.”
I studied him. “You okay?”
He snorted into his glass as he took another sip. “Better than you,” he rasped.
“You’re not okay,” I surmised out loud and let my feet take me directly to him.
Taking his glass, I gave it a quick sniff before taking a sip for myself, then setting it down next to the half-empty bottle. I didn’t care that it hurt like a bitch when I lowered myself to sit astride his lap.
Wrapping my hands on either side of his face, I tried to meet his eyes, but he didn’t seem to be able to hold my gaze. “Baby, talk to me.”
“I should have told you about Hewitt.”
Okay, so we were going to have this conversation now.
“Kip…”
“If I’d told you everything from the get-go, then we’d have been able to catch him and turn his ass in together,” he explained.
“True, but what about Suzanna? It’s not like we would have known what she’d planned.”
“You’re right,” he sighed. “But it doesn’t make me feel better knowing that my ex nearly took you away from me. Dad asked me if I’d looked her up to see what she’d been up to since we broke up five years ago, but I didn’t. I could have stopped any of that from happening. It’s on me.”
“No! I think she was more about taking me away from Gordon, even though you were mentioned,” I told him. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Dalton. It’s over.”
&nbs
p; “Yeah.”
“Come to bed with me, Kip,” I whispered over his lips. “Hold me. Make me feel safe. I’m home when I’m in your arms.”
The haunted look in his eyes evaporated. “Okay.”
Minutes later, Dalton was wrapped around me, my back to his front, under the cloak of sheets and darkness.
“You’re my home too, sweetheart,” he whispered against my ear, before depositing a kiss to the back of my shoulder. “You’ll always be my home.”
For the first time in nearly a week, I felt at peace.
Chapter 57
Dalton
Opening the front door, I cringed as I let our guests in, closing the door behind them and ushering them further into the living room.
“Who is it?” Devolin asked from the hallway, her footsteps coming closer.
I looked at the two people standing there. “It’s—”
“Mom! Dad?” I turned to find her eyes flitting from one parent to the other. “What the hell?”
“Let me explain,” Joleen started.
“I don’t want him here,” Devolin stated.
“He’s your father.”
“He is?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, grimacing when she nudged her side. “I no longer have a father. I haven’t since I was eight.”
I could see that my woman was becoming agitated, and I went to her side, wrapping my arm around her as a show of support.
“Is this why you wanted me to stay with you? So you could ambush me with him?” Devolin speculated aloud.
“Baby girl, please listen to what he has to say, then you can make up your mind,” Joleen said.
“No!” She stared daggers at her father. “You don’t get to walk back into my life again. Not right now. Not like this. Eighteen years, Dad!”
“Sweet—” he started.
“Don’t you dare!” she growled.
“Honey…” Joleen tried to run interference. “Please.”
“Mom, I can’t believe you’d do this to me,” she said. “This is the last thing I need right now. I love you, but I need you to go. Take him with you. Give me a couple of days.”
“But—”
Having heard enough, and hating that my woman was suffering, I took things in my own hands.
“Listen to her. She’s had enough. She’s telling you she’s not ready to deal with it. Please leave. Devolin will be in touch when she’s ready, and not a second sooner.” Letting go of Devolin, I proceeded toward the front door and opened it, staring them down until they did as requested.
Devolin
I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to talk to my father.
I can’t imagine the list of excuses he’d present.
Honestly, I knew I’d hurt him by denying him a word with me, but he’d hurt me for eighteen goddamn years!
“Are you okay?” Dalton knocked me from my thoughts, the front door now shut.
I huffed. “No!”
“Baby…” He approached me, his hands grabbing onto my hips, lining up his front to mine.
My forehead met his chest. “I’m so sick of this. Can’t I have a bit of normalcy for once? Dalton, it’s been four fucking weeks and we haven’t even had a day to ourselves. I just…” I sighed. “I just want to be.”
“Then we will.” He kissed the crown of my head, then reached down to tilt my chin up so our eyes could meet. “I’ll keep them away,” he vowed, pecking my lips. “All of them.” He punctuated that by brushing his lips from side to side against mine. “For as long as you need me to,” he whispered.
My hands met the planes of his chest as my breath quickened. “It might take forever.”
Dalton’s body shook with silent laughter. “Then I’ll be in great fucking company.” Still laughing, he snared my mouth with his, dipping his tongue into my mouth for a thorough taste.
Following his lead, my arms reached around his shoulders to pull him closer and I opened further.
Yeah, forever wouldn’t be all that bad if it was with Dalton Kippers.
Chapter 58
Dalton
2 months later…
My fist rapped on the door. “Sweetheart?” She’d been in there for well over an hour. What could possibly be taking her so long?
“Gimme a sec!” she shouted through the wooden barrier.
“Babe, we’ve got to go, or we’ll be late.”
Seconds later, the door opened and my breath caught.
Holy fucking shit!
“Do I look okay?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” There’s no way I’d survive tonight. “I’m about two seconds away from calling in to cancel our reservation, and stripping that fine ass of yours bare. You look amazing, baby.”
She strutted—yes, strutted—the five steps toward me, lifting on the tips of her toes to press her lips lightly to mine. “Such a charmer,” she murmured. “Let’s go. I’ve got some showing off to do.” She winked, walked around me, and left me salivating—I mean following—after her and the imagery she evoked had me peeling off that little strapless black number she was wearing. Don’t get me started on those strappy black fuck-me-heels.
Devolin
Torturing that man has become one of my favorite pastimes these last few months.
Things have never been greater between Dalton and me. If I thought I loved the man months ago, it was nothing compared to how I felt for him today.
I’d have been happy to stay home, but my man had pulled out all the stops for today. After this morning, I was excited.
Waking up to my dream man was great. Waking up to him, playing with something wrapped around a very important finger of mine, was another.
It was perfect.
The moment, I mean.
Dalton brought me back from memories of this morning with a kiss over the large rock sitting on my left hand as he drove us to dinner. “Have you decided yet?”
“M-hmm.” I smirked, not telling him anything more.
“And?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?” I grinned.
This netted me a boisterous laugh. “Funny, I was wondering if today was possible.”
“I wish,” I sighed dramatically. Truth is, if it were at all possible, I’d be running down the aisle, straight to him.
Moments later, we’d reached the Hilton’s gardens, where Dalton had planned some ornate catered meal for us to eat under the stars.
Guiding me by the hand, he led us under a beautifully sculpted archway, toward a white linen table surrounded by people I wasn’t expecting.
“Surprise!”
Dalton braced me from behind so I wouldn’t fall over from shock.
“I have one more thing to ask of you,” he whispered into my ear before turning me to face him. “Will you marry me today?”
“B-but…” I bit my bottom lip as I pondered what this meant. Looking into his eyes, I felt myself calming. Hadn’t I just told him that I’d marry him right away if we were able to? Instead of giving him the answer we both wanted, I blurted, “I don’t have a dress.”
“Right here,” Skylar came from behind everyone, a garment bag slung over her arms.
That’s when I realized that everyone in attendance was decked to the nines. I took in the faces surrounding us, then looked at the one I wanted to see every day for the rest of my life. “Yes, Dalton. Let’s do it!” Jumping up into his arms, I fused my lips to his, clapping and catcalls surrounding us.
Mom, Skylar, and Morgan helped me get dressed in the beautiful white lace strapless, that Skylar insisted was made for me. I don’t know how she’d managed to get it so it fit me like a glove, but I’d forever remain grateful.
Mom was a ball of emotions, and every time she started to tear up, it was a double battle for me to keep my cool because Morgan would join in on the waterworks, thanks to her pregnancy hormones.
It had been fifteen minutes since I’d said yes to Dalton’s second
proposal of the day, and I found myself alone, tucked away in the Hilton’s lobby when Hank came around the corner.
“Mom mentioned she knew the right man for the job.” I smiled at my soon-to-be-father-in-law. “I was wondering which one of the guys I’d get, and I was hoping it’d be you.” I knew it wouldn’t have been my father. After that afternoon at Dalton’s, the man never once tried to get in touch again. Part of me wanted to know why he’d given up so easily. I mean, if he was so desperate at mending fences, then why couldn’t he make all the effort? But he didn’t, and so I let the proverbial sleeping dog lie.
“You’re radiant, honey,” he muttered, bending in closer to kiss my cheek before reaching into his suit jacket. “I have something for you. It was Dalt’s mother’s and I know she’d want you to have it.” He pulled out a tattered velvet box and opened it to reveal the most beautiful bracelet I’d ever seen.
I gasped, tears springing to my eyes, and all I could do to stop them was wave my hands frantically in front of them and breathing deep.
“They’re emeralds,” he said as he undid the clasp. I presented him with my wrist. “I bought it for Amara for our first anniversary. They matched her eyes, just like they do yours.” Securing the clasp, he took a moment to admire the piece of jewelry. “Just where it was meant to be.”
I lost my battle with the tears, throwing myself at the man in a blubbering mess. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’ll cherish it forever.”
“You’re welcome, sweet girl.” Setting me back, he pulled out a hanky from his back pocket and dabbed at the wet under my eyes. “There. Now, what say you we take you to your groom?” Presenting me with his arm, I hooked mine through it, and we were off. “If I know my son well enough, he’s probably pacing like a caged lion right now.”
“You sure he’s not dancing in circles?” I grinned.
His laugh boomed out, making everyone’s eyes turn toward us. “He told you about that, did he?”
Oh he had.
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