Page 104 of Unbroken

The hesitance in my statement the first time I said it wasn’t for lack of confidence but for fear of his reaction. The decision to say it right then, in the middle of the metal concert, was an impulsive one, although I’d been considering those three little words for longer than I could admit to myself.

But I didn’t want to be placated or convinced otherwise. The last thing I wanted to hear was that “it’s too soon” or that I’m only saying it because I’m scared. That it was a trauma response or something similar.

All those fears disappeared the moment the confident, definitive words left his lips.

He knew he loved me, too. And I could feel it like it was a real, physical thing pulsing between us.

Devon stepped back and retrieved our empty cups from the table as I grabbed my bag from where it hung over one of the stools. Fishing out my phone, I turned it on to check the time.

But I stopped. My movements halted, and everything around me disappeared. The only thing in my world was that little phone screen.

It nearly slipped from my hands as I stared at the AirDrop request from an unknown number. But it was the preview of the photo along with it that quieted all my thoughts and made it unbearably difficult to find my next breath.

It took several seconds for my brain to catch up, and in thosefew seconds, Devon noticed and came to stand beside me. I thought he might be saying something, but I couldn’t hear him. My mind couldn’t comprehend more than what was directly in front of me.

Before I could think about it, I surprised myself and pressed “accept,” and dozens of photos flooded in. I gasped, and the shock of it made me lose my grip. But Devon was there to catch both me and my phone.

His arm looped around my waist, and his reaction was quick enough to grab my phone before it shattered against the hard floor. I grabbed the table and clung to him to remain standing as he stared down at my phone.

I glanced over and jerked my attention away after I noticed a few of the photos. He scrolled through quickly because it didn’t take a long look to see exactly what the photos were: they were a collection of photos of me sleeping.

Some were taken through the sliding glass door in my bedroom, others were taken only feet,inches, away from me.

Cautiously, I swiveled my head back and forth, scanning the few lingering concertgoers and trying to find a face I recognized. But it was useless. I’d never seen his face. I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup—literally—and would never be able to.

Even the few times I’d heard his voice weren’t enough to make a difference. His voice sounded like every other man’s voice I’d heard.

I’d never seen him, I’d barely heard him; fuck, I’d never even smelled him.

We were never going to find him. But he’d somehow found me.

And I’d made it easy for him—going back to the place where it all began. I’d probably walked right into his trap. He’d probably known that would happen.

I could feel myself descending into a black hole of panic, my thoughts spiraling in a direction I didn’t know I could come back from if?—

“Sweetheart.” Devon’s deep voice cut through the dark fog, although it still sat heavy at the back of my mind. Like the remnants of a horrible nightmare that you couldn’t quite shake. “Let’s go.”

“We have to—we have to find him,” I stuttered out as he laced his fingers through mine.

“I know,” he said. “We’re going to go downstairs and call the detective in Colorado Springs.”

All I could manage was a slow nod. I tried to get my eyes to focus on his face, but I couldn’t make out much more than the freckles and concern straining his features.

A warm hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. He stepped forward and tilted my chin higher. Hazel eyes implored me.

“One percent, remember? I’ve got the other ninety-nine.”

One percent,I thought. I could do that. One percent.

It was well past two in the morning when we climbed back into Devon’s car outside of the police station.

I was simultaneously exhausted and energized, which was a lethal combination. Devon opened the door for me and then rounded the front to the driver’s side while I buckled and tried to keep my eyes open and stop fidgeting.

Devon slipped into his seat and stared out the windshield for a few seconds before he reached for the ignition. We hadn’t said anything to one another since we left the detective’s office, but the second the engine turned over, I had to speak up.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I admitted quickly and quietly.

I stared straight down at my intertwined hands but watched Devon’s movements stop out of the corner of my eye.

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