To Hell and Back for You

Chapter 25: Devin

"Wake up!"

I was suddenly aware of hands curled around my shoulders shaking me. Instantly, I shot into a seated position on the mattress, balling a fist and readying to punch whoever the fuck it was. However, as their face cleared in my view, I relented to the woman who had taken a step backward upon realizing my state.

"What?" I growled.

She didn't speak at first; she simply stepped to the side, her head rotating in a gesture for me to look. Slowly rising from the cot and reaching my feet, I saw Mark sitting in the corner. He was unconscious, his hands and feet tied together with the sleeves of winter tees. My heart skipped a beat as I hurried over to him, ignoring Ames gently calling my name.

"Mark?" I sniffled, cupping his face in my hands. I could feel his breath warm on my lips, "Mark?"

"Devin, that's not-" the woman tried softly.

"The Hell did you do to him?" I flipped my rage on her, simultaneously taking Mark's wrists and undoing the knots.

Ames rushed up to me, grabbing hold of my shoulders once more, except this time, I didn't pull my punch. It landed in her jaw, taking her aback as she rubbed the wound. The expression she wore made it obvious that she expecting an apology which was something I wasn't willing to give. I turned to my lover again, surprised when I was met with open eyes.

"Devin?" 

"Mark, you had me worried; what the fuck?" I rambled as I finished with his hands.

Once they were free, he worked to undo the weak bonds on his ankles, allowing me enough time to glance over at the ally I had attacked. Her posture indicated the need to defend herself and if it weren't for the clouded memories from the dream world rapidly returning to my brain, I might have attributed it to my brief assault. Nonetheless, it was her fearful expression focused on Mark that alerted me to the truth.

The man stood up behind me, making a casual stroll to position himself a safe distance away from us, "Get out of my home," he commanded plainly.

Slowly, I rose too, "What?"

"You heard me," he extended an arm and pointed at the bedroom door, "Out."

Ames inched closer to me, "I tried to tell you. That's not your friend anymore."

But I already knew that. I guess I just hoped I had been wrong.

"No," my tone was flat as I stayed my ground.

McGraff cocked his head to the side quizzically, "Am I really going to have to call the cops?"

I set a foot forward, finding difficulty speaking to someone else as I stared at my boyfriend's face, "What? Can't take care of us yourself?"

He scoffed, "No need to expend the effort when a simple phone call will suffice."

The word triggered my recollection of Mark having answered his cell that morning. I carefully glanced over to the bedside table to my rear, directly in the path between where the two of us stood, "If you can get to it before me, that is."

The necromancer didn't appear amused or frightened as he taunted me with the lips of the one I had grown attached to, "You going to fight me? your friend, the man who let you stay in his home when you had nowhere to go?"

"You're not him!" I yelled.

"For all this world is concerned, I am," he smirked, "And I've grown tired of your company. Leave before this turns nasty for you both."

I knew he threatened to charge me with breaking and entering, assault, or whatever else if I didn't obey. Perhaps he figured on killing me and then claiming self-defense. It didn't matter though. Nothing he could do, no prison sentence, not even death was too steep a price for getting rid of this motherfucker. Not for the countless he had maimed either, but for the one life he took which crossed lines with me.