Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Cian
The devil was lying to me.
He had that wide-eyed panic he thought he could hide. Maybe he’d gotten away with it before, around dumber men who didn’t pay attention to his tells. But I did. I saw it in his stuttering breaths, his clenched fists, his dilated pupils that nearly obliterated the green of his irises.
And maybe I would’ve felt victorious—if the foundation I’d stood on for the last year hadn’t just crumbled beneath my feet.
I thought back to Devlin saying my father had pissed himself, begging before he died. A lie. I’d seen the autopsy report. Both bullets had been lodged in his back, likely fired while he ran away. No begging. No pleading. No being taken out execution-style.
Why would Devlin lie about this?
Unless he hadn’t been there.
Unless he hadn’t known my father was dead.
Unless he wasn’t involved in his death at all.
And if that was true, why did he want me to believe he was?
I’d just uncovered another layer of Devlin Walsh—and unfortunately, he only got more interesting.
We needed to get the hell out of this damn warehouse and locked behind my apartment door, where I’d have the time, space, and soundproofing to properly take him apart.
I didn’t care how long it took. Devlin would rip open his ribcage for me by the time I was done.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen. Hack. I slipped it back into my pocket. I’d call him back once I was in the SUV.
“Walk.” I said, and gestured toward the front of the warehouse.
Devlin caught the change in my tone immediately, and goosebumps erupted on his arms. “Ci—”
“Walk to the door, and get in the SUV. We’re going home, and we’re going to have a chat.”
He jerked his head like a trapped animal. “There’s nothing to chat about—”
I grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him toward the door. “Now, devil.”
He stumbled, nearly face-planting before catching himself. He staggered backward, palms raised in a placating gesture as I followed.
“Look. I can’t remember how your father died. What’s the big deal? Lots of lives ended under my watch.” His lips twisted into a sneer. “Sorry he wasn’t important enough for me to remember.”
It was cute that he thought he could bait me. I smiled, and his gaze dropped straight to my lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
My phone rang, and I cursed. Probably Hack again. He didn’t like being ignored. But he could wait a few damn minutes.
My hands itched to feel Devlin’s skin. I couldn’t wait to hear his pleas for mercy.
I’d clamp his nipples and hang a weighted chain between them.
I’d choke him with my dick while he sobbed.
I’d stuff him with the biggest plug I had, then put a cock ring on him so he couldn’t come.
I’d tie him to the bed and let his neglected dick weep all over the sheets while I played with his body.
He’d tell me the truth. Then he’d tell me more.
And we’d do it over and over until he never dreamed of lying to me again.
My cock was hard. So was Devlin’s, despite his fear. He had to know what was coming. He knew exactly what I liked to do to him to get him to confess his secrets. I reached down and tugged on my cock through my jeans, and he watched with a whimper.
When we reached the door, he finally seemed to realize he wasn’t getting out of this. His shoulders slumped, and I grinned behind his back as I reached around him to swing it open.
And came face-to-face with the muzzle of a gun.
I reacted on instinct, shoving Devlin out of the bullet’s path.
A shot cracked through the silence of the night, and searing pain ripped through my neck and shoulder.
I kicked out, and my boot connected with the solid body of a hulking figure.
They let out an oomph as they stumbled backward out of the doorway.
I slammed the door shut as another gunshot pinged against the outside.
Devlin scrambled up from where he’d fallen on his hip. “Cian!”
Dizziness swamped me as I tried to take a step, nearly toppling me.
I shook my head. Why was I so unstable? Why the fuck couldn’t I think straight?
I had to get my shit together. Whoever shot at me would try to get inside and finish the job, and I needed to protect Devlin.
But with what? I only had a pocketknife. My gun was in the glovebox of my car.
Something hot and wet ran down my chest. I swiped at it, and my hand came away red.
“Shit! Don’t move.” Devlin’s fingers dug into my shirt. His tone was frantic. He seemed panicked, but not for himself—for me. I swayed on my feet and squinted. What was happening? My brain registered a fiery pain somewhere above my left shoulder.
Devlin’s voice shook now. “They shot you in the fucking neck.” He tugged off his hoodie and wrapped it around my neck, pulling it tight against the wound until I could barely breathe.
I pulled at it. “Too… tight…” Wait. It hurt to talk. To move my jaw at all.
Another gunshot sounded outside, followed by a metallic bang. Voices rose. “Windows!” someone shouted.
“Is that glass bulletproof?” Devlin asked. He clutched both my arms like he was steadying me, and I tried to push him off, resenting his help. The movement sent me tipping sideways into the wall.
Bulletproof glass? Fuck no. I tried to shake my head, but pain sliced through me like a hot poker. I gasped as more warm liquid soaked the neck of my T-shirt. I blinked at Devlin. The edges of him blurred. Then there were two of him. What the hell?
Hands tugged at my body, moving me back toward the center of the warehouse. My phone was in Devlin’s hands, the screen illuminating his face as his thumbs moved rapidly. I could hear him speaking, but I couldn’t focus on the words. Something about Rhys?
The pain was intense. And I was suddenly so cold. I shivered, and Devlin let out a choked gasp.
Office. We were in the office now. The rug was pulled back, and Devlin was struggling with the wooden floor planks. I fell to my knees and tried to help, but my fingers wouldn’t bend. Why were we getting into the safe? I didn’t think whoever was coming would take the cash and leave us alive.
My fingers went numb. I tried to grab a plank, but my hands refused to listen, and I collapsed onto my side.
Devlin cursed. “Look. I have to get you in here, but it’s not gonna be pretty. You’re the size of a fucking rhino. So just… brace yourself.”
Brace myself? Brace for what?
I found out a second later when he planted his foot against my side and shoved.
I dropped into the crawlspace like a corpse, hitting the floor on my back hard enough to drive the breath from my lungs.
I gasped, trying to suck in oxygen, as Devlin hopped in after me.
He pulled the rug over us and started replacing the wooden planks.
He tugged the last one into place just as glass shattered somewhere in the warehouse, and we plunged into darkness.
Cold. So cold. And dark. I hated the dark. Hated it so much. The blackness was an oppressive weight on my chest, stealing my breath and my sight and my freedom. It smothered me with memories I couldn’t hold back. Locked doors. Sobbing pleas. My back, sliced and bleeding. My father’s sneers.
“C-cold. D-dark.”
Maybe I’d said the words out loud. Or maybe only in my head. Pain was clouding my reality. I was back in my father’s apartment, locked in a small space, my stomach cramping from hunger while the wounds on my bony back burned like acid.
My breaths whistled in and out as I panted. “H-hate it. He… he used to lock…” I licked my lips. “Closet. D-don’t like th-the dark.”
Something soft slid across my knuckles, and fingers tangled in mine. A warm body blanketed me, and the pressure around my neck tightened. “Shh, I’ve got you,” Devlin whispered in my ear. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”
The closet slowly faded. I couldn’t see Devlin’s face in the dark, but I could picture it in my mind. I clung to the image like a life preserver.
“Please hold on, Cian. Please.” Devlin’s voice was a naked plea. “You just have to hold out for Rhys.”
“Dev—” I hated the tremor in my voice. Every syllable was agony. “Dev—”
Muffled voices reached me from somewhere in the distance. I couldn’t make out any words, like my ears were filled with cotton.
“You can’t die,” Devlin whispered in a choked voice. His cheek was so warm against mine. “You promised. You promised me you’d be the last face I’d ever see. You have to stay alive and keep that promise.”
I tried to talk, tried to move, tried to answer him… But I couldn’t make my body cooperate.
Devlin’s body shook against mine. Then a quiet sob. “I’ll tell you the truth. I’ll tell you anything you want.”
Another cold chill washed through me, one last moment of clarity cut through the fog. Like my brain needed to solve this puzzle before my body drained of blood. I forced my vocal chords to work one more time. “D-didn’t… You didn’t k-kill… father.”
A door slammed open somewhere above us. Voices grew louder. Footsteps rattled the floorboards above our heads. Devlin fingers squeezed mine tighter. Once. Twice. A rhythm that felt timed to the slow beat of my heart.
The footsteps moved farther away now. Devlin’s lips brushed the shell of my ear. “You promised, Cian. You fucking promised.”
Darkness began to take over my consciousness.
And in that tiny crawlspace, with my blood pooling on the cold concrete, I never got to tell Devlin that my promise had been revoked.
Devlin
I lost all sense of time and reality as I lay on top of Cian in the dark, trying to keep him warm.
The smell of his blood hung thick and cloying in the air.
Every breath rattled, and I feared the people above us would hear it.
That they’d tear off the rug, rip open the floorboards, and finish the job.
I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to his heartbeat. I counted them, then counted the spaces between them. I listened as those spaces grew too long. I listened as his breathing grew more labored. I listened as my perfect man, my unstoppable lion king, suffered in my arms.
And there was nothing I could fucking do.
Cian’s phone was somewhere in the warehouse.
I didn’t dare bring it with us, not when one noise could give away our hiding spot.
I’d made a split-second decision to hide him because he’d been going into shock, bleeding too badly to flee.
But now whoever shot him was in the warehouse, searching for us.
Their footsteps still stomped overhead. I hadn’t gotten a good look at them before Cian had slammed the door shut—just a masked, hooded figure in the darkness with a gun.
Hours might’ve passed. Days. Entire lifetimes. I wondered if some archaeologist would find our bodies thousands of years from now, the two of us entwined in a grave of our own making. I cried in the darkness, my tears mingling with the blood slicking the concrete below us.
Voices shifted and changed. Footsteps walked, ran, then walked again. Cian’s heartbeat was undetectable now, or maybe I was losing my mind. I pressed my cheek to his lips, desperate to feel his breath.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please don’t die.” He had promised.
Promised. Promised. Promised.
Fuck, I was so weak. I didn’t want to be here without him.
It’s not like I’d expected forever. I hadn’t even expected more than another month.
But I wanted what he’d promised. I wanted blow jobs in the morning.
I wanted the rasp of his razor against my skin as he shaved me.
I wanted his fingers gripping my chin. And most of all, I wanted to feel the way I felt when Cian focused all of his attention and power on me.
Claimed me. As toxic and fucked up as we were, he’d already given me more than I’d ever believed I could have.
“You told me you wanted to be my entire world,” I whispered. “And you are. You are.”
Time continued to pass in a blur. Then finally, I heard a familiar voice. One that belonged to a man who had threatened me. Hated me. But he was loyal to Cian, and that was all that mattered.
“Rhys,” I croaked as I pulled myself away from Cian’s body. “Rhys!” I hollered through a sob. Then I punched the floorboards above me.
Light filtered through the cracks as the rug was ripped back. Hands tore at the floorboards, and I threw a hand over my eyes to shield them from the sudden brightness.
“Fuck!” Rhys roared.
A man yanked me out of the crawlspace and roughly tossed me aside. Then four more lifted Cian into the office. I couldn’t see Cian’s face, but as Rhys laid him on the floor, I watched as one of his tattooed hands flopped lifelessly to the side.
“I can’t feel a pulse!” someone shouted. “Jesus, there’s so much blood.”
And I broke. I broke into a million pieces.
I pressed a hand over my mouth and tasted Cian’s blood. Rhys was suddenly in my face, hauling me to my feet as he snarled, “What happened? What the fuck did you do?”
My entire body shook as I looked into Rhys’s furious eyes. He was going to kill me. Right here, next to his best friend’s cooling body, he was going to kill me.
So I said exactly nothing as I waited for the first blow.
A fist cracked across my jaw a moment later, sending a shockwave of pain down my spine.
I hit the ground with a thud, and the blows just kept coming.
Boots slammed into my gut, my face, my legs.
Someone stomped on my left arm, and I bit back a cry of agony.
I didn’t speak. I didn’t say a single word.
Because if I did, they would stop. And I didn’t want them to stop—not if Cian was no longer a part of this world.
I’d gladly join him in the afterlife.