Chapter 2
DEVIL
It worried me how quiet Jessia had been, barely speaking through her treatment last night. The strained smiles I saw her hand out this morning downright terrified me.
I stood outside the sanctuary like a creep, my body angled out of sight but with enough of a view through the planes of glass in the door that I could glimpse the kitchen and dining area.
No one knew Jessia was my mate, so I couldn’t exactly storm into their safe space and ask to see her.
I wouldn’t, even if people knew. Not after the last few days; ChaCha, Lynn, and my angel needed the sanctuary free of alphas.
Free of all men, all designations, if I was being honest. I didn’t know details of what they’d endured, but I didn’t need them.
The scents in that basement told me enough, and the tentative way Jessia moved filled in the blanks.
I scanned the kitchen again, watching closely as ChaCha spoke to Jessia.
“Oh, angel,” I sighed when she tried so hard to smile, as if everything was alright, and her body and peace of mind hadn’t both been assaulted.
I wanted my arms wrapped around her again, wanted to feel the press of her head on my chest and the reassurance of her weight against me.
I searched the kitchen again, angling myself so I could see into the living room area.
No Lynn. Where was she? With Cobra was the obvious answer, but that didn’t kill my worry.
Lynn and I had been friends since she got to the compound, and the thought of her in that pub basement, the clear visual of what she’d been through, made me as murderous as Jessia’s assault.
It burned like a brand that one of the pieces of shit had got free before we could end him, but we’d find him.
And he’d better hope Tybalt found him. Because if Cobra, Sweetie, and I got our hands on him, we’d make his suffering last for a decade.
I’d been interested to try out Tyb’s new blowtorch.
I wondered how long it would take to make his eyeballs pop.
I jumped when door hinges squeaked, unable to hide before Jessia peered around the door and met my eyes.
“Hi, angel.”
She gave me that painful half-smile. “Are you looking for Lynn?”
“Her, and you. How are you doing?”
Surprise softened her eyes, adding a hint of life to her hazel eyes. It was the only bit of life to her; she looked tired, and ten years younger. It was the first time I’d truly seen her without makeup, without her hair styled in immaculate waves.
“I’m… fine,” she replied, her lips forced into a curve at the edges.
I raised an eyebrow. “I come equipped with a very accurate BS meter.” I softened my voice, and wondered if she could hear it—how much I’d loved her at a distance for months.
“You don’t have to pretend with me. You don’t need to wear a mask and act like everything’s normal.
Nothing is normal, angel, for any of us. ”
She crossed her arms over her chest, not angry—defensive. Guarding herself. “You think I’m wearing a mask?”
“No one would be okay after what happened in the basement—”
“Nothing happened in that basement,” she snapped, tightening her arms around her middle. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it, but…”
“You’re fine?” I guessed.
“Yes.”
“If you need somewhere you can be not fine, without judgement or expectation, come find me, okay?” When she opened her mouth, I quickly added, “Tell me you’re fine again, I dare you.
You haven’t eaten today, you’re dehydrated, in pain, and exhausted.
And on top of that, you’re using all your energy to mask how afraid and traumatised you are.
Angel, the word fine doesn’t come into the picture. ”
Her mouth tightened. Nostrils flared. And right when I was ready for her to lay into me, she burst into tears.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathed, rushing to pull her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I should have kept my big mouth shut. Me nagging you is the last thing you need.”
Her chest jumped with broken breaths, her voice tight and squeaky when she said, “No, you’re right. Everything you said. I just—I just want to go back to normal.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” I said gently. “You’re going to burn yourself out trying to put everything back the way it was.”
Her shoulders slouched, her head resting on my chest the way it did last night. “What—what do I do?”
“What do you want to do? What do you need?”
“I’ll be okay,” she mumbled against my shirt.
“I know, angel. That’s not what I asked.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “Did I miss the funeral? Dreamer’s?”
“No.” I couldn’t help myself; I glanced the tips of my fingers through her brown hair, the urge to comfort her, to take all her worries away battering at my soul, screaming through every instinct. “It’ll be in a couple weeks.”
“He didn’t have any family. No children, no one left except us. I—I think I want to help plan it.”
“Probably a good idea.” I forced my mouth into a crooked smirk. “My brothers are bloody useless at event planning. There’s no way Dreamer would want fuchsia roses, right? And I know I heard Tyb talking about playing Mariah Carey’s Hero.”
The look she gave me was dubious, not quite amused, but it was something. It wasn’t lifeless. “It should be AC/DC.”
“Highway to Hell’s probably too on the nose,” I joked.
“No.” She smiled, small and fragile but real this time. “I think he’d love it.”
When she looked up at me, I brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering, the warmth of her a profound reassurance that she was here, alive.
Hurt and afraid but still so kind. How the hell did she do it?
I’d want to rip the world apart in her shoes.
“You know so much about all of us,” I realised.
She shrugged. “I pay attention. I like looking after people. It makes me feel good, makes me feel—” She cut off with a shake of her head.
“No judgement or expectation, remember?” I said gently.
Her eyes dipped, fixed on the floor. “It makes me feel powerful. I spent a while feeling powerless. Feeling out of control in my body, having it used against me. If I can take care of people, if I can feel good and make others feel good, it’s—” Her confidence vanished. “It’s silly, nevermind.”
“That doesn’t sound silly. It sounds… sad, honestly. Wise, maybe. Selfless. Compassionate. But you don’t need other people to feel powerful, angel.”
She laughed, quiet and thin. “You don’t know much about me, Devil. You don’t know what I need.”
Her words struck me like a slap to the face, and I stiffened automatically. “I know,” I agreed mildly. “I shouldn’t have—I don’t know the right words to say.” I laughed, self-deprecating. “It’s not a feeling I’m used to.”
I forced my arms to drop, but it hurt like hell when she stepped back, taking all the warmth in the world with her.
“Why do you care?” she asked, confusion a knot in her brow.
“Why do you care about people?” I volleyed.
She flicked a glance at me, something I hesitated to label exasperation. “Touché.” She took a step back. “I’ll tell Lynn you were looking for her.”
I said her name just as she slipped through the door to the sanctuary, and Jessia turned back, her expression so sad a physical ache pierced my chest.
“Come find me if you need someone, okay? For anything. I mean it. If you want to break shit, we can break shit. If you want to scream, we can scream. If you want to cry, we can cry. Whatever you need, I want to help.” Please, I barely stopped myself from saying.
“We?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m a sympathetic crier. I hope you’re ready for snot and sobs and wailing noises that attract foxes.”
She laughed, a whispering rasp of noise that my entire world narrowed to. “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”
When she disappeared into the sanctuary, I had the sense I’d actually said the right thing. Shame I’d spend the rest of the week obsessing over the wrong things I’d said.