Page 68 of Dangerous Devotion

I straightened and walked out of my office. My sisters, my brothers, and Hawk’s guys were gathered in the foyer.

I turned and took the staircase in the back instead.

The door to our room was open, and I leaned against the doorframe, my heart heavy as I watched Jemma pack.

Her movements were slow, almost reluctant, and each item she placed in her backpack felt like another piece of me being torn away.

Jemma paused, held one of my shirts in her hands, pulled it toward her face, and inhaled deeply as if she wanted to remember my scent.

I cleared my throat.

She turned to me, the sadness in her eyes mirroring my own. She raised the shirt and cocked her head.

And without a word, I knew what she was asking. I nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “Take whatever you want, Punk. It’s all yours anyway.”

A small smile flickered across her face as she carefully folded the shirt and tucked it into her bag. The gesture was so tender, so intimate, it made my chest implode.

I crossed the room and took her in my arms. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to tell her she wasn’t going anywhere—but I couldn’t. Her safety had to come first, no matter how much it hurt to let her go.

She slung her arms around my waist and buried her face against my chest. The air in the room was thick withunspoken words and emotions. I could feel the weight of everything we weren’t saying pressing down on us.

But now was not the time to stay silent. What could I say that would make this any easier?

She lifted her head and her eyes met mine, and something in her expression—the softness in them—was it hope—made my heart beat dully in my chest. “It’s okay, it’s only for a short while, right?” she said, her voice muted and a little shaky.

I nodded. The way she looked up at me was so soft and gut-wrenching at the same time.

I clenched my jaw, fighting against the urge to stop her, to tell her we’d find another way, to keep her right where I could see her, touch her, and smell her. But it was the right decision, no matter how much it hurt. I had to keep her safe, and that meant sending her away. I nodded and smiled. “Yes, it’s only for a very short while.”

We stared at each other. “I don’t want to go, though,” she whispered, then buried her face again.

And I felt like I was trapped beneath a boulder, slowly squeezing the life out of me.

I pulled her deeper in my arms, buried my face in her hair, and held her as tightly as I could. “It’s not safe here.”

She nodded, clinging to me until a knock at the door broke the spell.

I cast a glance over my shoulder at Birdie, who was standing by the open door, staring at her feet.

Jemma pulled back, wiped at her tears, then straightened.

I grabbed her backpack and took her hand in mine, and together, we walked out of the room we’d shared for far too little time.

I held her hand tightly as we descended the stairs, each step feeling like a countdown to our separation.

My sisters and brothers were all gathered and watched our descent, their faces a mix of concern and sympathy.

Mira and Bella had been equally unhappy to leave, but they didn’t put up much of a fight.

Thank God. Because fighting myself was exhausting enough.

And there was no denying they were all in danger right now. Because they were close to me. The weight of responsibility pressed down on my shoulders, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest at the thought of letting her go, of sending all of them away.

As we reached the foyer, I let go of Jemma’s hand and joined Hawk, who stood by the door, his expression grim but understanding.

Jemma joined my sisters near the door, her shoulders tense but her chin held high.

Pride swelled in my chest at her strength, even as my heart ached.

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