“I didn’t give him a chance to beg,” he stated through a throat full of gravel. He’d shot the bastard right between the eyes without an ounce of remorse. The truth of that rang in his voice, and one look at Shelby’s face confirmed she understood the full meaning of his harsh words.
But he didn’t allow himself time to assess her reaction. He was afraid she might not agree with what he’d done, and only see him as no better than the monster who’d killed his daughter.
“The guy got off a short burst before…”–I put him down—“he went down. I retrieved the daughter’s body for her mother, and my team retrieved me. The surgeons in Germany reconstructed my knee and inserted a rod in my left femur, told me I’d be lucky if I walked again, and my career was over.”
Outrage filled her eyes as her mouth gaped open. “They actually said that to you?”
“Not in those exact words, but that’s what it boiled down to. I’d seen it happen to other guys, so I knew what was what.” Not that it had helped cushion the blow. If anything, knowing had made it worse, because he knew the futility of fighting the inevitable.
“I’m so sorry, Dev.”
And there it was. The softening of her eyes, the forward lean, the reach across the counter for his hand. He stared as her fingers slid closer. He craved the comfort of her touch so bad. Hell, he’d probably dream about it tonight, but it was a line he couldn’t allow himself to cross. Once over, he’d never go back.
He jerked away, banging his elbow on the back of the chair in the process. “I told you I don’t want your pity.”
She straightened stiffly. “Offering sympathy is not the same as feeling sorry for someone. I don’t feel sorry for you, but…it must’ve been awful to see that girl killed like that.”
The direction of her empathy caught him off guard. “I’ve seen worse,” he said gruffly.
Sorrow darkened her brown eyes. “I don’t imagine that makes it any easier.”
A lump formed in his throat as he shook his head in confirmation. He shoved to his feet and turned away before she could see the tears stinging his eyes.
Damn it. He didn’t want her understanding. Or her sympathy. Or the possibility of her accepting who he was now only to later have the darkness inside him destroy her light.
“I’m going to do my PT.”
Just before he reached the hall, she called his name. “Dev. Can I ask you something?”
The slight plea in her voice halted his steps. “I’d rather you not.”
But then he stayed right there, unable to force his feet to move forward again.
A moment later, her slippered footsteps sounded behind him. He turned, and when she got within an arm’s-length away, he took a step back. She drew to an abrupt halt, hurt flashing in her eyes before her lashes swept down to conceal them. That glimpse of vulnerability stabbed him straight in the heart.
“Yesterday, you promised you’d be straight with me,” she reminded.
Yeah. Stupidest promise he’d ever made. “Ask what you’re going to ask.”
She swallowed hard, then took a breath as she looked up, as if she had to gather her courage to speak. “You pull away every time I get too close. Is it me specifically you don’t want to touch, or did something happen that keeps you away from everyone?”
In for a penny, in for a pound, isn’t that how the saying went?
Since he was fucked no matter what, he gave it to her exactly as he’d promised. “It’s definitely you. Because if I let myself touch you even once, I’m not going to want to stop.”
Chapter 15
“If I let myself touch you, I’m not going to want to stop.”
So why the hell was she now huddled in the guest bed all alone as the clock ticked toward midnight?
Because when Dev was finished with his PT, he acted like that entire conversation never even happened. He was polite but distant—physically and emotionally. It was as if what he’d shared with her drove him further away instead of drawing them closer.
Which left her no closer to understanding, and when he went to bed an hour ago, she was hesitant to admit she was still apprehensive about being alone. She had wanted so badly to follow him to his room, even if she had to sleep on the floor again. Instead, she forced herself to turn into the guest room with the brand new bedroom set he’d ordered just for her.
Time to be a big girl.
Except, if she wasn’t thinking about Dev, her mind went straight to her stalker. With the light still on beside the bed, she eyed the bare window as she hugged her knees to her chest. Too bad there hadn’t been curtains or a shade to go with the comforter set that had arrived with the bedroom furniture.
The murky black square gaped at her, a frightening glass hole in the wall even with the new security system. After another glance at the time on her phone screen, she decided enough was enough. Swiping up her grandma’s afghan, she padded over to see if she could somehow cover the glass. Her heart pounded faster as she got closer, but it only took a moment to realize she’d never reach the top without a chair.
Tossing the afghan on the bed, she started toward the kitchen for one of Dev’s bar stools. She’d left the bedroom door ajar and it swung open with a low, extended squeak. Other than that, the house was dark and quiet, save for the ticking clock she’d never actually located. When she caught sight of the drawn shades in the living room, she paused. It only took a second to decide to retrieve the afghan and a pillow for the couch. Much easier—and quieter—than dragging one of those heavy stools into the bedroom.
She pulled the door closed behind her and latched it with the softest of clicks. Over at the couch, she tossed the pillow down before lifting her arms to shake out the afghan and lie down.
“What are you doing?”
Shelby let out a shriek at the sound of Dev’s voice behind her. Her heart jammed up into her throat as she whirled around to find him watching her. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“What are you doing?” he repeated.
A shift of his stance drew her gaze down. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and he wore only a pair of red boxer briefs that fit like a second skin. Noticing the bulge in the front of those briefs made her cheeks burn, but then she spotted the scars from his injury and surgery. Belatedly, she recalled how much he resented her staring, and she jerked her gaze back up to his face.
“I, um…” She tightened her arms around the afghan clutched to her chest. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”
He frowned toward the guest room. “Is there something wrong with the bed?”
“No. The bed is fine. It’s just…there are no curtains or shades.” She gave a self-conscious shrug. “I know it’s stupid, but it freaks me out that someone could be watching me.”
“It’s not stupid at all,” he corrected. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”
“Well, I didn’t either, until I was in the room by myself.”
“I can hang a blanket over the window for tonight,” he offered.
She shook her head quickly and backed up to sit on the couch. “It’s okay, this is fine. Sorry if I woke you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping yet.”
“Oh.” She sat for a moment, then busied herself arranging the pillow and blanket. Better that than drooling over his bare chest, gorgeous arms, and ripped abs. Or taking a longer look at his red briefs.
He stood there, contemplating her with one hand still behind his back. Flutters kicked up in her stomach just before he released a soft sigh.
“Is it just the window?”
She futzed with the blanket some more before admitting, “No.” A little spurt of anger had her thumping her hands on her lap before clasping them together. “I hate this. I’m not usually such a wimp. I lived alone for the past few months. I was practically alone at my parents’ house a year before that, when they were spending most of their time in Washington.”
“I don’t think you’re a wimp.”
“Well, I feel like on
e.”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Finally, she glanced his way. When she met his gaze, Dev gave a sideways jerk of his head, toward the hall. “Come on.”
She couldn’t go back in there alone. No matter how much she wished she could. She twisted to readjust the pillow. “I’ll be fine here on the couch.”
“I’m not talking about the guest room, Shelby. We both need to get some sleep.”
Her whole body flashed hot, but she only hesitated a moment before gathering her blanket and pillow to walk across the floor toward him. He made a sweeping gesture with his arm for her to go first, and she noticed once again that his other still remained behind his back.
She glanced over her shoulder when he fell in step behind her. “Do you have your gun?”
He lifted one of those nicely muscled shoulders. “What kind of bodyguard would I be if I heard a noise and came out here empty handed?”
“You don’t have to hide it from me.”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
When she paused a few feet inside his bedroom, he brushed past and walked to the side of the bed closest to the window. He set the weapon within reach on his nightstand, no longer trying to hide it from her sight.
“Guns don’t scare me. It’s the person who holds the gun that can be scary.” Realizing what she’d said, she quickly added, “But not you—you don’t scare me.”
“No?” He arched his eyebrows, the tiniest bit of humor playing about his mouth. “Then why are you standing way over there?”
Because for as many times as she’d fantasized about being in the same bed with him, she’d never imagined it would actually happen. The flutters in her stomach were making her nauseous. She thought about asking for his sleeping bag and mat again, but come on, she was an adult. She could handle sleeping in the same bed as the guy she’d been half in love with since she first discovered makeup and boys ‘round about age twelve.
Plus—the floor had sucked last night.
She crossed to the bed without another word. Realizing she clutched her grandma’s afghan like a blankie, she tossed it over the end of the bed and slid between the sheets as Dev got in on his side. He turned out the bedside lamp, then settled down beside her.
Shelby’s pulse thundered so loud in her ears, she was positive he heard it, too. She shifted carefully, afraid to brush up against him.
And then she almost laughed. Here she’d spent the whole day doing her best to get up in his space on purpose, and now she was nervous to move one inch in case her foot brushed against his under the covers.
She lay there, heart pounding, mind whirling, wondering how in the hell was she going to fall asleep?
“What’s the matter?” Dev’s voice rumbled in the dark.
“Nothing.”
“You’re stiff as a board. And you can breathe, Shelby. Relax. Go to sleep.”
Breathe. Good idea.
She concentrated on drawing in a breath and letting it back out. Only she blew it out too fast and needed another one. And her heart was still racing, and her fingers were tingling, and—oh my God, why the hell am I crying?
Next thing she knew, Dev pulled her into his arms, her head on his chest, and his voice in her ear.
“Take a deep breath,” he urged. “Come on, you can do it.”
She sucked oxygen in.
“Now hold it. One, two, three, four. Let it out.”
Once she blew it out, he had her repeat the process.
“Feel my chest.” He inhaled deep. “Do what I’m doing, hold it, count two, three, four. Let it out.”
The soothing tone of his voice, coupled with the steady rise and fall if his chest, helped slow her racing heartbeat so she could think straight again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sneaking her hand up to wipe her damp cheeks before resting it on his chest below her chin. “I feel like I have no control over anything anymore.”
He smoothed his hand over her hair, much like when he’d comforted her the night of Loyal’s wedding. “It’ll get better. I promise. This isn’t going to last forever.”
She nodded, and focused on the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
The warmth of his musky skin beneath her cheek.
The firm muscles beneath her palm.
It dawned on her she was half-draped over his almost naked body, and suddenly she was afraid to move again. Afraid he’d pull away and reject her all over again.
Breathe.
She wasn’t sure if he spoke out loud, or she simply heard his voice in her head, but she took measured breaths, relaxed, and slowly, finally drifted off to sleep. Somewhere in between, she swore she felt the press of his lips just above her temple.
Chapter 16
Dev met Reyes at the reception desk of the animal hospital fifteen minutes before he needed to leave the next day.
“Shelby’s in surgery at the moment, so all you need to do is keep an eye on who’s coming and going. And after that, just be there if she needs you.”
“Bells in surgery,” Reyes repeated as he followed him toward the back. “I know she’s a vet, but that still sounds strange.”
Dev one hundred percent understood. He’d gotten quite the eye-opening this morning himself—and not only because waking up with her warm body snuggled against him felt so fucking right.
Knowing she was a veterinarian wasn’t quite the same as seeing her in action. That, more than anything, drove home the fact she wasn’t a kid anymore. Of course, he’d recognized the obvious on one level, but he’d still been thinking of her as that naïve sixteen-year-old girl who had no clue what she was asking of him in her bedroom that day.
Watching her work had him seeing her in a whole new light. Clients, animals, and co-workers alike were treated with kindness and compassion. About a half-hour ago, a dog had been rushed in that had been attacked by another dog. She seized control with a calm confidence that had her collogues looking to her for guidance, even though she was probably younger than many of them.
It was then he realized he needed to figure out a way to give her back some control in her personal life, or her anxiety would only get worse. For her sake, he’d hate to see it take over this part of her life, too.
After they left the front waiting area, Dev showed his brother where he could keep watch while Shelby finished her surgery. Reyes nodded to a couple of vet techs who eyed them with open curiosity.
“Everyone here is cool with this?” he asked with a quick glance around.
“We had a meeting with her boss first thing this morning. He said the staff was informed of the situation, and other than being extra vigilant if someone was acting odd, everyone was advised to go about their business as usual. People are curious, but they’ve been respectful.”
“All right, then. I’ll hold down the fort until you get back.”
“Thanks. I have a stop to make after my therapist appointment, but I’ll be back before her shift ends at three.”
Reyes averted his gaze at the mention of a therapist. And while Dev made a point to mention it whenever he could, he didn’t push, because that had gotten him nowhere over the past couple years. All he could do was let his brother know he was seeing someone after his own trauma, and show no shame in it. Hopefully, Reyes would choose to get the help he needed soon.
As he left the parking lot, Dev glanced at the animal hospital in the rearview mirror. Even knowing Shelby was in good hands—Rey was one of the few he’d trust her safety to—he still didn’t like leaving her when the cops hadn’t been able to get anything useful from the surveillance at her apartment building.
Ironic how quickly he’d gone from refusing the job to going all in.
Whoever it was threatening her, they knew how to cover their tracks well. Which had him extra eager to talk to Mark’s private investigator. He’d called him Sunday evening to look into Chad Mayer and expected to get some results in the upcoming mee
ting.
Gus Landrum had gone to high school with the senator way back when. He’d gone on to the police academy while Mark went to college for business before eventually getting into politics.
The muddy-haired PI was in his mid-fifties, nearly six feet tall, and looked fit enough to still wear the badge even though he’d retired as a detective nearly five years ago. He’d done some security work for Mark when he was governor, and then opened his own private investigation agency shortly after the election for Senate.
Unfortunately, Gus had no good news for him.
“You’re absolutely sure Mayer checks out?” Dev leaned forward with a frown. “Because I got some seriously bad vibes from that guy.”
Bad vibes, or were you jealous?
The PI flipped open a red folder in front of him and slid it across his desk. “None of the flower shops that delivered her flowers recognized him, and his phone records are clean—other than the time Shelby said they went to dinner last summer. Plus, he had an alibi for both the night her power steering was cut, and the night of the wedding. Hell—you saw him at the wedding.”
“I didn’t keep an eye on him for the whole night,” Dev argued as he scanned the page in front of him that confirmed exactly what Gus had just relayed. “He could’ve left right after Shelby and I went back to the reception.”
“His drink tab was closed out at twelve-thirty-four a.m.”
Right about the time he and Shelby left—which would’ve given the guy no time to break into her apartment, leave his insidious message, and get out again before they arrived.
He flipped the folder closed, shot it back across the desk, and rose with a muttered, “Fuck.”
“Listen man, something will pop—it always does. In the meantime, you just do your job, and I’ll keep doing mine. We’ll get the motherfucker.”
Dev raked a hand through his hair and rubbed at the tension throbbing at the base of his skull. “Do you have any other leads? I don’t care how insignificant they sound, is there anything you’ve come across that seems the least bit off?”
To Love and Protect Page 11