Page 97 of My Beautiful Sin

Lamar snorts. “Guess that explains why I couldn’t find a record of a Walt or Walter in town that matched the description.” He clears his throat. “William Tarkington, you and I are going to have a little talk.” As if on cue, the wail of police sirens fills the air.

“What the fuck? I didn’t do any—”

He freezes, his eyes aimed not at Lamar or Devlin, but toward the end of the alley. I follow the direction of his gaze and see Brandy standing with Christopher beside two uniformed cops.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says again, but with much less conviction.

“No? Well, let’s get out of this crowd and we’ll talk about it some more.” He signals for the uniforms, who leads Walt to the car. “I’m going with them,” he says to me.

“You’re not arresting him?”

“Not yet.” He nods toward Brandy. “If we do, she’ll have to testify. I want to give her time to think about that. In the meantime, Walt and I will have a nice little talk. And who knows? Maybe now that I know his name, other victims will come forward.”

I nod, then hug him. “Thank you.” I look to Devlin. “Thank you both so much.”

Their eyes meet, but they say nothing. Lamar just shakes Devlin’s hand, then gives Brandy a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead before sliding into the car next to the cuffed Walt.

Brandy runs to Devlin, who pulls her into a hug. “You’re going to be fine,” he says, and she nods, her sobs muffled from the way her face is pressed against his shoulder. After a moment, she pushes back. “You shouldn’t have beaten him up. He’ll probably press charges or—I don’t know—drag you through the mud. It’s going to be bad for the foundation.”

Devlin shakes his head. “He got what he deserved. Call the cops first, and he doesn’t pay. Not the way he should.” His eyes go hard. “He still hasn’t fully paid that debt.”

I want to argue—to tell him that isn’t the way the system works—but the words don’t seem to come. Not now, with Brandy looking at him like a hero.

“Thank you,” she whispers again, then kisses him on the cheek.

When she backs away, Devlin gently leads her to Christopher. “I froze,” Christopher says. “Even once I wrapped my head around who that prick was, I completely froze.” His eyes go to Devlin’s face with something akin to hero worship. “Thank you so much for standing up for her.”

“My pleasure,” Devlin says. “You can repay the favor by helping me keep an eye on this one.” He glances sideways at me, and I manage to restrain myself from rolling my eyes.

Christopher hesitates, probably feeling silly saying that he’ll look after me when I obviously want to shout that I can look after myself. But then he extends his hand to Devlin’s and says solemnly, “I owe you, Saint. You can absolutely count on me.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Devlin is silent on the drive back to his house. Christopher has taken Brandy back home, and Anna stayed behind to take care of the bill. Lamar, of course, had gone to the station.

Beside me, Devlin practically vibrates with energy, but whether it’s fury, frustration, or something else altogether, I’m not sure. I stay quiet, too, though, knowing that he needs time.

Once we’re through his front door, I can’t hold back, and as soon as he’s closed it and locked us in, I press against him, my arms going around his waist as I look up into his face. “You’re an exceptionally good man, Devlin Saint.”

He makes a low, guttural noise. “Am I? Sometimes I’m not sure. But every once in a while, I think I do a good thing.” He takes my chin, then studies my face. “I didn’t think you would approve of my method tonight.”

I shrug, not quite meeting his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t,” I admit. “Maybe we should have let Lamar handle it. Told him about Walt and then watched as he arrested the fucker.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “But?”

I exhale. “But I’m not sorry.”

He cups my cheek, his touch tender. “Because she matters to you.”

I nod.

“She matters to me, too. Because you love her and because she’s a good woman who doesn’t deserve the shit she’s been through.”

“I know,” I tell him. “It means so much to me that you like my friends.”

He chuckles. “I’ve liked Brandy since I was Alex.”

“Fair enough. It means a lot to me that you like Lamar.”