Page 62 of The Devil's Secret

She takes me in with a widened expression “Aren’t you going to ask who?”

“No. Because whoever it is, I’m sure they deserved it.”

“I—I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Her voice shudders. “But that night Paulina saw us, she told Faro. He dragged me to his place the next morning, and Paulina was there. We got into a fight, and…” Her shoulders jolt.

“Hey.” I cradle her chin in my palm. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she cries low. “Once she was dead, he told me I had to get rid of you because you were getting too attached. And…” She catches her breath, talking faster. “And h-he doesn’t want the men thinking of us as human beings. So I came up with the plan to kiss someone else and he sent the random guy and… I’m so sorry.” A fresh coat of moisture builds in her eyes.

With two hands at her hips, I bring her on top of me as she weakly cries over my chest, my palm on the back of her head. “Shh. It’s okay. You had to do it. I get it.”

“Why aren’t you mad?” She pushes against my hold. “Be mad at me. Hate me! I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. Plus…” I smirk. “I think I was pissed at you plenty when I thought you had your tongue down your boyfriend’s throat. We’re good.”

She plops her face back down against me.

“Joelle, you gotta stop hating yourself. That’s what this is. I’m not gonna let you do that to yourself.”

“How could I not hate myself, knowing what he’s been through,” she mutters into my chest.

“He, who?” My pulse slams.

Fuck. It better not be some real boyfriend.

She looks up and sighs, the fight gone from her face. “I have a son, Enzo. His name is Robby.”

My eyes widen on instinct. I swallow the shock away.

“Where is he, baby? Who has him?”

“Who do you think?” she trembles out. “They took him from me the moment he was born. I only get him for ten minutes once a month. Now, I don’t even know if he’s alive.”

My thumbs erase the dripping of her tears running past her cheeks. “Where’s his father?”

“I—” Her eyes scan mine for a second before she swallows harshly. “Ahh, I don’t know who it is.”

I’m not sure how much truth there is to that, but I’m not gonna push her right now.

“Do you know where they’re keeping him?”

She shakes her head. “They never told me. Neither did Robby. They watch us, making sure we don’t say anything important to each other. The only thing I once got from him is that he’s in a house, which is nothing to go on.” She tips her head to the side. “I’m never gonna find him, am I?” The way she asks that, the sound of her pain, it kills me.

“I’ll burn the rest of this damn city to the ground until someone tells us where he is. My brothers and I, we’ll get him, baby. We’ll bring him back to you.”

“Thank you.” Her lips drop to my cheek, and she kisses me tenderly like she did that one time at the club. Her gaze stills over mine with pounding emotions, wrecking her, and wrecking me too.

The shit she’s been through, it raises that sadistic bastard in me, the one who needs to maim, to kill, to brutalize all those who’ve dared to brutalize her.

There’s one thing I gotta know, something I hope she tells me. “Who caused those bruises on your thighs the night I saw them? Was it Roman?”

She sighs. “You don’t want to hear this, Enzo. I promise.”

The muscles in my jaw flinch. “Tell me.”

Her eyes squeeze shut. “There were three of them, and I’ll never forget their faces.”

My chest heaves as she recounts the night of her torment. I hate that I put her through the trauma of reliving it, but I had to know. Fuck… If I ever find them, the shit I’ll do. I let her fall over me once more, holding her, my hand stroking her back for a while.

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