My Cruel Salvation (Fallen Saint # 3) - J. Kenner Page 0,79
protect Brandy.
I end the call about the time we reach Devlin’s street. He forgoes pulling into the driveway and simply parks Shelby on the street in front of his house. He hops out and pauses long enough to look back at me. “Do you want to come? I’ll only be a minute.”
“I’m happy to if you want me, but I’m also happy to just sit here in my restored beauty and bask in the awesomeness of Shelby.”
He laughs. “Bask all you want. Like I said, I’ll only be a minute.”
I watch as he circles the car then moves down the sidewalk to the front door. He really does have the most amazing ass, and it is particularly nice in the jeans he’s been wearing today.
I sigh, enjoying the view of what is mine. I watch as he reaches the door and punches in the code. I can even hear the little beeps from where we are. Then I hear him curse. He turns around and trots back towards me. He’s midway to the car when he says, “By the way I was going to ask you if —”
And that’s when the world explodes.
Devlin is thrown forward by a fiery ball of flame and debris, and my throat is suddenly raw. I realize I’m screaming, scrambling to get out of the car, pushing Shelby’s door open as I burst forward, grabbing Devlin’s arms and pulling him toward me. His shirt is singed and we fight it off of him. I knock him to the grass and roll him over, amazed that he’s gotten away mostly unscathed.
He clings to me, both of us breathing hard as we shove back on the unmarred grass and watch what’s left of his house go up in a massive fireball.
My ears are ringing, and it looks like an all-out war on the street. Devlin’s saying something but I can’t hear him, and his weight on top of me is crushing. I’m breathing hard and I look out at the surreal landscape. The world seems to be burning.
There’s a roaring in my head, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s sirens approaching.
“Baby? Baby, are you okay?”
I blink, trying to process the words. They sound like sand in my ears, thick and heavy.
“El. Ellie, baby.” Devlin shifts so that he’s no longer on top of me. I draw a breath, then immediately start coughing. He pulls me up, then holds me as he pats my back as I try to get my body under control. When I stop hacking, I push back, needing to see his face. It’s ash-covered, but it’s him, and I almost burst into tears at the realization of what I’d almost lost. “Oh, God,” I say. “Devlin, oh, God, Devlin.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine, baby. I’m fine. Are you hurt?”
For a moment, I don’t understand. “Me? Me?”
The horror plays through my mind again, like a movie in a perpetual loop. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you break anything? God, that explosion actually threw you into the yard.”
My words are tumbling out on top of each other. “Did you know? Did you sense that something was wrong? What happened? Why aren’t you in that house? Thank God you weren’t in that house.”
He doesn’t answer. He just pulls me close again, and I cling to him, my whole body shaking. I could have lost him. I almost did lose him right in that moment. I start to sob, and at the same time I hate myself for losing it like this, but I can’t bear the thought of not having Devlin beside me anymore, and I can’t quite wrap my head around how close I came to almost losing him.
He holds me, his face pressed against my hair. I can hear his breathing, his soft murmurs of we’re okay, we’re okay. I hold the words close, because right now, they’re the only thing that matters. We’re okay. The house is gone, but he’s alive. By some miracle, Devlin’s alive.
I start to shake. “You almost—Devlin, if you hadn’t turned back to—”
“I know, I know.” He holds me tighter, rocking me, and I cling to him, certain I will never let him go again.
“We almost lost each other.”
“We didn’t. You’re here. I’m here. We’re safe.”
“But—”
“No.” The word is fierce, as if he can hold back tragedy by sheer will. But I know he can’t. Like my parents—like Peter—I almost lost him. A few inches in the wrong direction, and I would have lost him.