Pretend You're Mine (The Protectors 12.50)

Devon looked at me briefly, then nodded. “Yeah, he is.”

I hadn’t made the connection upon first meeting Ethan, but as I’d sat in the truck waiting for Devon, my brain had started to connect the dots. Ethan had been all over the news a couple years earlier when he’d testified against his abusive ex. The ex, who’d been a cop, had been well-known himself because he’d once stopped a man from detonating a bomb at some kind of political thing in Washington, D.C. He’d been considered a hero.

Until the truth about what he’d done to Ethan and several others had come out.

“He’s a really brave man,” I said.

“That he is,” Devon said. “That he is.”

There was a beat of silence between us before Devon said, “Will you tell me about the accident that Ethan was talking about?”

I opened my mouth to give him the standard reply, then snapped it shut again. Something about telling Devon the same lie I’d been forced to tell everyone else felt wrong.

“It wasn’t an accident,” I heard myself admit.

“But Ethan said—”

“Rick had me tell people I fell down the stairs.”

“Rick?” Devon said, his voice thickening with anger. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I responded quickly. I was shocked when Devon suddenly pulled his truck over to the side of the road. He ignored the cars that honked at him as they passed. He put the truck in park and undid his seatbelt. I felt his fingers on my chin a moment later. “Tell me the truth, Bastian,” he urged. “If he laid a hand on you—”

I didn’t know what possessed me to do it, but instead of responding with words, I lunged forward as much as I could, given the seatbelt I was still wearing, and crushed my mouth to his. Devon was still mid-sentence, so I felt the little rush of air escape his mouth as our lips came into contact. I hoped, prayed, for him to kiss me back, but his mouth was stiff against mine and I quickly pulled back in horror.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I nearly shouted. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Well, okay, yeah, I did. Devon’s growly protectiveness had sent my brain cells into overdrive. And all the cells down south had responded before I could stop myself.

“Sebastian—”

“Maybe you should take me home,” I said. “Or to the event, I guess.”

“Sebastian—”

“Please don’t make me walk, Devon,” I whispered. The idea of trying to navigate the dark streets scared the shit out of me and all the lust I’d been feeling evaporated. There were plenty of people out and about, but who knew which ones were just random people enjoying the evening and which ones were on the hunt for their next victim.

“Hey,” Devon said, then he was taking my chin in hand again. But I refused to lift my eyes this time.

“Look at me,” he softly commanded.

God help me, I couldn’t resist the gentle order.

“I would never do that to you,” Devon said firmly. “Don’t put me in the same category as that asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, because in my panicked and humiliated state, I had been comparing him to Rick who wouldn’t have hesitated to order me out of the car if I’d pissed him off, no matter how scared he knew I was.

“Tell me what happened,” Devon said. His fingers were warm and gentle on my chin.

“Rick wasn’t the one who hurt me. But I was on my way to meet him when it happened, and he didn’t want people to find that part out, so he told me to say I’d fallen down the stairs. I… I did it because I didn’t want to upset him.”

God, how foolish did that make me sound?

“How did it really happen?”

“I was walking to this apartment that Rick’s company kept for clients visiting from out of town… his firm does publicity for the dance company I belonged to. There were plenty of people out and about, so I wasn’t really paying attention to any one thing, you know?”

Devon nodded in understanding.

“I went down the alley next to the apartment building. Rick was supposed to meet me at the side entrance so he could let me in. He didn’t want the doorman to see me. A couple of guys followed me into the alley. They… they wanted my wallet. One of them had a gun. I just…”

Panic caused the breath to catch in my lungs.

“Breathe, baby,” Devon whispered as his fingers slid from my chin to the back of my neck. He massaged me gently as I forced myself to draw in several long, slow breaths.

“I froze,” I admitted, my voice sounding strangled. “They took the bag I was carrying but they wanted my phone and wallet. I… I couldn’t move. Not even to get them out of my pocket. Even when one of the guys put his gun to my head, I couldn’t do anything. I was such a fucking coward—”