Page 93 of Devil Mine

“No more running away for me sadly, not unless you come and break me out of my tower.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” she says. When I give her a questioning look, she pulls her phone out of her clutch and starts going through her camera roll. “I saw your wedding announcement, darling, which means I saw the way you look at your husband. You guys aredefinitelygetting it on.”

I’m momentarily stunned by what she says. So first Thiago decides to shoot my best friend and now he’s sending her our wedding announcement in the mail like they’re the best of friends?

One thing men will always have in spades is theaudacity.

“We are not!” I answer, affronted.

She gives me an unimpressed look. “Don’t bullshit a professional bullshitter.”

“Dags, we’re really not.”

“Then either it’s only a matter of time until you actually willoryou’re in complete denial,” she says, handing me her phone. “Look at this.”

Rolling my eyes, I take the phone from her and look at the picture, expecting to be unmoved.

Instead, I’m struck by the expression on my face. By the way I look up at Thiago; lips parted, eyes hooded and fixed intently on him, my stare…longing.

My hand flies to my mouth and I give Dagny a shocked look.

“I know,” she agrees, like I spoke my thoughts out loud. “I nearly fell out of my chair when I saw it. Your husband shot me like, a month ago, so I’m not exactly his number one fan, but it’s tough to argue with this,” she says, tapping my face with her index. “Or this,” she adds, tapping Thiago’s face next.

Because as longingly as I look up at him, he stares even more fiercely back down at me. He looks like he has blinders on, his gaze so focused on my face he couldn’t possibly be aware of anything else happening around him.

If Thiago wanted to sell the idea of us as a happy couple, then this photo does just that.

We look…intoxicated by each other.

“Couldn’t be me,” she adds. “I’ve decided I’m keeping all bloodthirsty psychos at arm’s length. One gunshot wound was enough for a lifetime, thank you very much.”

“You better pray you never catch one’s eye then. If you haven’t noticed, they’re not big on asking.Takingis more their thing.”

My head spins. I hand her phone back, clearing my throat to calm the tornado of emotion sweeping through me. She stares down at the photo once more and smiles.

“What’s that famous saying again,” Dagny ponders aloud, drumming her index thoughtfully against her pouted lips before snapping her fingers in a lightbulb moment. “Oh,right— the camera doesn’t lie, Tessie. You’ve got a thing for your husband.”

I scoff. “I’d have to have Stockholm’s Syndrome for that to be possible.”

“Hey, if you’re going to have a mental illness might as well have the one that gets you into bed playing naked hide the sausage with the insanely hot cartel boss who kidnapped you. Sounds way more fun to me than, say, having anxiety.”

I choke out a laugh at the visual, but opt to change the subject to a topic far safer than Thiago and I — gun violence. “How is your arm? Are you still in pain?”

Dagny’s strapless dress has a sweetheart neckline so her arms are on display, but she’s wearing a chic lace armband with a gold chain to cover her still fresh scar.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that he…shotyou,” I tell her for the dozenth time. “I still can’t believe he did.”

“Completely healed and zero pain,” she says, choosing to indulge my evasion tactics. “And I told you, you never need to apologize to me. I actually should thank that degenerate husband of yours for helping me create a new accessory. I’ve gottendozensof requests for armbands like this one. Vogue even wants to interview me for, and I quote, “being a trendsetter”. If only they knew what I’m hiding under there.”

I laugh loudly. “Only you would see getting shot as a business opportunity.”

She does a few poses with the armband, pretending she’s in front of a camera.

“Bullet wound fashion, baby. Come and get yours before stocks run out, actual bullet wound not included and sold separately.”

I’m wiping tears of laughter from my eyes when I spot a woman in a gold dress over Dagny’s shoulder lean in and hug Thiago. The easy smile he gives her in return makes my heart shrivel up in my chest. She’s there and gone before I can even begin to process the wide array of emotions pummeling the battered organ. Thankfully, he doesn’t go after her.

Dagny is still talking about her recent work and doesn’t notice my abrupt change in mood.

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