18. Enya
ENYA
I can't stop staring at the door.
I’ve been staring at it for what feels like hours. Maybe it has been hours. I don't know. I lost track of time somewhere between panic and more panic.
The Old Ladies are still here, talking quietly around me, trying to distract me. But I can't focus. Can't hear them properly. It’s just noise that washes over me while my brain screams.
What if he doesn't come back?
What if Declan hurts him?
What if I never see him again?
My tea's gone cold in my hands. I don't remember anyone giving it to me. Don't remember drinking any. I just know it's there, mug clutched so tight my knuckles are white.
"Enya?" Caoimhe's voice. Soft. Gentle. "You alright, hon?"
"Yeah." The lie tastes bitter. "Just waiting."
"He'll be back," Chloe says from across the room. Confident. Like she knows. "They always come back."
But what if this time is different? What if Declan's worse than they thought? What if Devin's lying somewhere bleeding and I'm sitting here drinking fucking tea?
I check my phone again. Nothing. No messages. No calls. Just the time mocking me. How long has he been gone? Too long. Way too long.
"He doesn't have his phone," Mallory reminds me gently. "So you won't hear from him until he's back."
I know that. Rationally, I know that. But rationality left the building about an hour ago.
"I'm scared," I whisper. I don't mean to say it out loud but it comes out anyway. "I'm scared he won't come back."
Ailbhe moves to sit beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "I know, love. But these men... they're survivors. They know what they're doing."
"But Declan's—"
"Declan's one man," Gráinne says firmly. "Tank's got four brothers with him. Including Pyro. No one gets past Pyro."
I want to believe them. Want to trust that Tank's safe. That he'll walk back through that door any minute.
But fear's a living thing inside me. Clawing. Consuming.
I set the mug down on the table before I drop it. My hands are shaking too badly to hold anything.
The women exchange glances. Subtle. Quick. But I catch them.
They're worried too.
They’re trying not to show it, trying to keep me calm. But underneath the reassurances and the confident words, they're scared.
Which makes everything worse.
Time crawls. Minutes feel like hours. Every sound makes me jump. Every door that opens somewhere else in the clubhouse makes my heart stop.
But it's never him.
Never Devin.
Just brothers coming and going. Music playing somewhere. Normal clubhouse noise that feels wrong when everything inside me is screaming.
Then the door opens.
The main door. The one I've been staring at.
I'm on my feet before I fully register moving. Tea spills. Someone says my name. But I'm already moving.
Because it's him.
Devin. Walking through the door. Exhausted. Bruised. Knuckles bloody and swollen.
But alive.
Our eyes meet across the room.
And everything breaks.
I run. Don't think. Don't hesitate. Just run straight across the room and crash into him.
He catches me, arms coming around me immediately. Solid. Real. Here.
I sob into his chest. I can't help it. Can't hold it back. I cling to him like he might disappear if I let go.
"I told you I'd come back," he murmurs against my hair.
"You scared me," I gasp out. Then I hit his chest. Once. Not hard. I just need to do something with the fear and relief tangling inside me. "You scared me so much."
"I know. I'm sorry."
I pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. Really look.
His face is bruised, swelling already starting around his jaw. His knuckles are torn and bloody. There's a cut above his eyebrow I didn't see before.
Panic spikes, sharp and immediate.
"Did he hurt you?" My hands flutter over his face, his shoulders, trying to assess damage. "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? Tank, you're bleeding—"
"I'm fine." He catches my hands and holds them still. "It's nothing. Just bruises."
"It's not nothing. You're hurt."
"Enya." His voice is gentle but firm. "I'm okay. I promise."
I want to believe him, want to stop panicking, but I can see the pain in his eyes even if he's trying to hide it.
He pulls me toward his room, away from the others. Away from watching eyes.
When we're alone, he takes both my hands and holds them between us.
"It's done," he says quietly. "Declan can't hurt you anymore."
The words take a second to process. Then they hit.
It's done.
Declan can't hurt me.
Which means...
"Devin." My voice comes out strangled. "What did you do?"
He holds my gaze. Steady. Unflinching. "What I had to."
The implication lands like a physical blow.
Declan's dead.
Devin killed him.
For me.
Everything inside me unravels at once. Years of terror. Years of looking over my shoulder. Years of being scared. It all comes flooding out in one massive wave.
I sob. Hard. Ugly. I can't breathe properly. Can't stand properly. I collapse against Devin and let it all out.
"I'm sorry," I gasp between sobs. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault. You did this because of me. You killed someone because of me and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"
"Hey." He cups my face and forces me to look at him. "Stop. You don't apologize for surviving. You don't apologize for me choosing to protect you."
"But you—"
"I did what needed to be done. To keep you safe. To keep Warren safe. And I'd do it again."
The certainty in his voice. The lack of regret. It should scare me.
Instead, it makes me feel safer than I've felt in years.
"Are you okay?" I ask. "After doing that? Are you..."
He's quiet for a moment. Then: "I'll live. And I don't regret it. Not for a second."
"I'm relieved," I whisper. The admission feels wrong and twisted. "I'm relieved he's dead. Does that make me like him?"
"No." Devin's voice is fierce. "It makes you human. It makes you someone who's been terrorized for years finally feeling safe. You're nothing like him. Nothing."
I press my face back against his chest and just breathe him in. Leather and smoke and something uniquely Devin that grounds me.
"I thought I'd lose you tonight," I admit, my voice muffled. "And I realized I care about you more than I should. More than makes sense after such a short time."
He goes very still. Then his arms tighten around me.
"I'm not going anywhere," he says softly.
I lift my head. Our foreheads touch. His breath mingles with mine. This close, I can see every bruise. Every mark. Every sign of what he did for me.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?"
"For coming back. For protecting me. For..." I stop, unable to find words big enough. "Just thank you."
He kisses my forehead, gentle and lingering. "Always."
Footsteps approach. Chloe appears first. She takes one look at us and smiles. "Told you he'd come back."
"Yeah." My voice is rough from crying. "You did."
Ailbhe drapes a blanket around my shoulders even though I'm not cold. Just comfort. Just care.
"You alright?" Gráinne asks Tank. She’s in nurse mode. "You look like shite."
"Feel like shite," he admits.
"Good fight though?" This from Caoimhe, surprisingly.
"Good enough."
They don't ask for details, don’t push. Just accept that it's done and we're both here and that's enough.
"Come on," Devin says quietly to me. "Let's get you some rest."
I nod and the ladies leave us be, giving me a gentle smile as they leave. Devin walks me over to the bed and I pull him down onto it with me. Not sexual. I just need him close. I need to feel him breathing and to know he's really here.
We lie facing each other, his arm around my waist, my hand on his chest over his heart.
"I don't know how to live without fear," I whisper into the quiet.
"Then you learn, baby,” he says. "And I'll be right beside you."
"What if I can't?"
"You can. You're stronger than you think."
"I don't feel strong."
"Because you're exhausted. But you are. You left him and you built a life, all the while raising Warren and keeping him safe. That's strength."
I'm quiet for a long moment, just listening to his heartbeat under my palm. Steady. Strong. Alive.
"Stay," I whisper.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"No. I mean... stay. With me. Not just tonight. But... stay."
He goes very still. "Enya..."
"I know it's fast. I know we barely know each other. But I don't care. I want you to stay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I'm sure."
He presses his forehead to mine again. “I wasn’t going anywhere."
Relief floods through me, so strong it nearly hurts.
He shifts slightly, pulls me closer until I'm tucked against him. One arm around me, the other hand stroking my hair in slow, soothing movements.
I close my eyes. Let the rhythm of his breathing lull me. Let the warmth of him seep into my bones.
For the first time in years, I feel safe.
Really, truly safe.
Not just physically, but emotionally. Like I can finally let my guard down. Finally stop watching over my shoulder. Finally just... breathe.
"Devin?" My voice is sleepy now, exhaustion catching up.
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you came back."
"Me too."
"And Devin?"
“Yeah, baby?” he says thickly, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
"I think I'm falling for you."
He's quiet for so long I think maybe he didn't hear. Or maybe I shouldn't have said it.
"Good. Because I'm already there."
My breath catches. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
I press closer. Let myself sink into him completely.
And for the first time in three years, I fall asleep without fear.
* * *
I wake once in the middle of the night. Disoriented. Confused about where I am.
Then I feel Devin beside me, still holding me. He’s still here and still alive.
I press my face against his chest and breathe him in. Let the reality settle.
Declan's gone.
Really gone.
He’s never coming back. I never have to worry about him watching me or threatening Warren.
He’s gone.
The relief is so overwhelming it brings fresh tears. But quiet ones this time.
Devin's hand moves in my hair. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just... processing."
"Take your time."
I'm quiet for a moment, my mind whirling. ”Do you think Warren will like you?"
The question surprises him. I can feel his body shift slightly. "I hope so."
"He will. I know he will." I lift my head and look at him in the darkness. "He needs someone good. Someone safe. Someone who'll protect him."
"I will. I promise."
"I know." And I do. I believe him completely.
We lie there in the quiet.
After a while, Tank says, "What happens now?"
"What do you mean?"
"With us. With Warren. With... everything."
"I don't know," I admit. "But we figure it out. Together."
"Together," he repeats, like he's testing the word. "I like that."
"Me too."
He pulls me closer. I settle against him, letting my eyes close again.
"Enya?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For trusting me. For letting me in. For..." He stops. "Just thank you."
I smile against his chest. "Always."
Sleep pulls at me again. Gentle this time. Not the restless, fearful sleep I've had for years. But deep. Real. Safe.
Because Tank's here. Because Declan's gone. Because for the first time in forever, I can breathe.
Just before I drift off completely, I whisper, "I love you."
I don't know if he hears. Don't know if it's too soon. Don't care.
Because it's true.
And I'm done being scared of the truth.
Devin's hand stills in my hair for just a second, then resumes the gentle stroking.
"I love you too," he whispers back.
And I fall asleep smiling.
Safe. Loved. Free.
Finally free.