Page 176 of Devil Mine

If there’s a limit on prayers allowed in one night, then I’m fucked.

I hear someone coming down the hall so I stay around the other side of the corner, waiting to ambush them. They’re running, their feet slapping loudly against the concrete floor. Getting closer.

They round the corner at a frantic run. My arm wraps around the person’s waist at the same time as I spot a mass of blond hair, at the same time as a spicy scent hits my nose with a punch of relief.

I’m pushing her against the wall in the same split second. When clear blue eyes meet mine, a massive bubble of relief bursts from my lips.

“Tess?” I ask disbelievingly.

“Thiago?” Her eyes widen. Her hands come around my neck and she throws herself into my arms. “Thiago!”

I stumble two steps into the closest room and then I fall to my knees with her clutched in my arms. She’s shaking powerfully against me as I crush her to my body, ignoring the screaming in my shoulder.

“Tess,” I groan, burying my face in her neck.

I can’t believe I’m holding her. That she’s alive. That she’s safe, at least in this moment. It doesn’t feel real. Part of me wonders if this is a hallucination brought on by the hysteria roiling through me. I cup her face and push her back, brushing the hair behind her ear. There’s blood on her cheeks, but it doesn’t seem to be hers. It soils her perfect skin and I can’t bear to see it. I rub it off her with rough thumbs, focusing on this because I can’t bring myself to look down and see what I fear might have been done to her.

“Amor,” I mutter, emotion hollowing my words.

“I’m okay,” she promises.

Finally, with my heart in my throat, I look down at her body. The first thing I see is the large tear in her skirt, all the way up to the top of her thigh. The only thing keeping the garment attached to her body is the thicker band at her waist.

Fresh nausea threatens to make an appearance. Hollow silence echoes loudly in my ears as my trembling hand comes to her thigh.

Hell opens up a pit in my stomach as I’m confronted with the potential confirmation of Marco having violated her.

“Did he–” My words catch in my throat. “Are you okay? What happened? Did he…Did he…”

My voice cracks in torment.

I can’t bring myself to say the words. I don’t know how to ask if he touched her, if he…

She cups my face and raises my eyes to hers.

“He didn’t touch me. I managed to get away.” She presses her lips heatedly against mine. With one chaste kiss, she restarts my dead heart. I grip her waist tightly. She pulls away and places her forehead against mine. “I used the hardest parts of me against the softest parts of him,” she breathes. “I listened to what you taught me.”

A shattered growl rumbles up my chest and bursts from my lips. I press my forehead back against hers, my eyes fluttering shut. “Thankfuck. I couldn’t live with myself if he’d hurt you that way, if he’dtouchedyou because of me.”

The agonizing pain starts to recede to a dull ache. I kiss her fiercely, communicating the depth of the fear, worry, and love I have for her in one press of my lips.

“He didn’t. I managed to get his gun and I– I shot him, Thiago.”

I still, then pull away. “Is he dead?”

“I don’t think so. He was on the floor, bleeding when I left. I hit the wall once and then hit him somewhere in the stomach.”

“Good girl,” I praise. She took those self defense lessons to the next level. “Where’s the gun?”

Her eyes widen and she blanches. “I– I left it. I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I ran scared after shooting him. He has it.”

“Shh,” I quiet her, kissing her forehead. “You did exactly what you needed.Moreactually. I’m going to go finish this now.”

I start to rise to my feet but she grabs my arm and pulls me back down. When I hiss, she startles.

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

“My shoulder is dislocated,” I say grimly.

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