36. Devina
He shifts his weight to lean against the door frame and lowers his head. I can’t read him when he isn’t looking at me. But then he does. He pulls his lips into a smirk, always trying to hide behind his sinful good looks. It would work if I hadn’t known him the way I do. His eyes meet mine again. Anger is prevalent, but the pain is there.
He knows.
“Ryder,” I try to plead with him but I can only make out his name before my stomach clenches and a sharp pain drives into my side causing me to wince.
He strides to me in two steps and takes my face between his hands. Strong and firm. His eyes pierce into me. Complete and utter devastation. He radiates anger and fury. He could snap my neck so easily and be done with me. Surely he won’t kill me right here in this hospital, will he? Will he take me down to the basement?
I lied. I told him there was nothing else and I lied.
Maybe this is how it ends. In the hands of the man I love. I almost trust him enough to let it happen without a fight. His feelings for me will make it quick. I won’t suffer. It will all be over. I can’t think of a better way to go than in the arms of the man I love, although the thought of it happening at the will of his fingers is morbid and dark, and everything we are together. Seems like the perfect way to turn the page.
I don’t have much time to think about it because his lips crash into mine and I feel hot liquid sprinkling onto my cheeks. I want to open my eyes, but I’m consumed. I can feel his tears and devastation. As his tongue slides over my bottom lip, I open to let him in. His kiss is one of rage and pain, and yet his lips hold mine like I’m a fragile piece of glass. His love is apparent and the betrayal of my secret cannot be denied.
“You’re mine, Devina. I can’t let you go,” he says. I bring my hands to his and he stops to rest his forehead to mine.
“How long?” he asks, eyes closed.
How long have I known? Oh God, he is going to want to know everything.
“How long do we have?” His words were as broken as his heart.
My heart weeps for us. We never had a chance.
I knew I loved him. But knowing didn’t bring sadness. Once I was gone, I knew I wouldn’t be missing anyone, and I was grateful to experience any kind of love while I was here. But it was easier to love him when I believed he didn’t love me. Now there was no denying. The truth is he’s been proving it every day in the mundane gestures of kissing me when I wake and making sure I was never without a guard if he couldn’t be the one with me. He proved it when he refused to leave me and when he shielded my body with his, just as I did for him.
His rage was not toward me. He had told me that he would burn the world down, and then put out the flame to keep me safe and unafraid. But he just realized that burning down the world wouldn’t save me.
His love could not save me.
Nothing could save me, and as a man true to his word, he still thought he needed to prove something to me.
I could only hope that the electricity in the air around us was enough for us each to know that love was what would make these last moments matter. It all becomes too much and the medicine injected into my IV is starting to take hold.
My eyes flutter and I finally concede. “. . . Fly.”