Present Day.

"I heard all that." Pamela said sadly, looking up at his face. "When the cops told me that you didn't die from the shots, my hopes soared, but only for moments before I was later told that you had drowned in the lake." She stopped short and took in deep breaths and whispered, "It was like watching you die over again."

"I'm so sorry you went through all that."

"It can't be compared to what you went through. How did you survive?" She was dying to know. "What happened?"

"The memory is a little bit hazy but I remember doing all I could to swim ashore. Then I passed out. When I regained consciousness, an old friend had taken me in."

"An old friend?"

He nodded. "Art Dwayne."

"Oh, the detective." She frowned. "He came to the funeral looking all sad and beaten up, and I remember feeling sorry for him, not knowing he was laughing at us." She felt the heat of anger gently flood her. "How could he?"

"It was for the best."

Pamela scoffed and looked out through the windshield of the van Devlin had led her to. The sky looked pregnant with rain. What a terrible day to get married, she thought, and what a terrible day for a person to rise from the dead.

"So you had been in Homer?" She asked.

He didn't reply but instead turned his face to look through the windshield. That gave her more than enough answers to her questions.

"Of course." She whispered, her anger rising all the more. "Of course you were in Homer."

"I couldn't make myself known."

The fact that she'd grieved and cried herself to bed almost every night while he was so close was what angered her the most. She'd contemplated taking her life on numerous occasions and had hanged on barely by a thread, and to realize that he'd been so close?

"How dare you? How could you?"

He reached out to take her hand but she removed it far from his reach. Through blurry eyes, she looked up at Devlin and how much he'd changed. He looked older and more dangerous. His beards and long hair were making it worse. She didn't know who was sitting beside her because he was a far cry from the person she'd loved and married, for all she cared.

"I had to stay hidden. A lot of people were out for me, and still are."

"A lot of people," She laughed bitterly. "Of course. It never ends, does it? The guns and the violence and the running, it never stops with you, does it?"

"Not until I'm dead." He growled.

They locked eyes for a few seconds before Pamela broke the contact. "I'm used to you being dead anyway," She said tersely and continued. "You can continue being that way."

"You don't mean that." He said after a few seconds of absolute silence. His voice sounded torn and rough with bitterness and her anger faltered, sorrow filling her face.

"I mean, why now?" She exploded as tears started to roll down her face. "Why are you revealing yourself now? Why didn't you make contact with me before now? Why are you coming out of the shadows now?"

"I couldn't make contact with you because I wanted to keep you safe."

She scoffed. "Yeah, sure. The good ol' tale."

"It's the truth. I felt it was safer if you knew nothing about me."

"Who gave you the right to make decisions for me?!" She yelled.

He took her hand and this time she let him. "I'm sorry, my love."

Her face twisted in an expression of rage and she yanked it away. Was he crazy? She told him just that. "Are you crazy? Your love?"

"Yes." He said, his jaw set stubbornly. "My love. My wife."

"Don't call me that. It's been three years, Devlin, three whole years! Three birthdays, three Thanksgivings and three Christmases. You didn't expect me to sit around, still pinning for your love, did you?"

He looked at her square in the eye. "Yes, in fact I did."

She looked at him like he had gone around the bend. "Is that why you came back? You were surprised I was getting married? That I was finally moving on? You left me remember? You made a solo decision to go MIA, so I had every right to move on, and to get married too in the eyes the law."

"Fuck the law. I wouldn't have stood for it."

"Do I look like I care?" She said sarcastically and then gave him a serious look. "How did you even find me? I left Alaska because I wanted to run away from the hurtful memories and yet here your here, plaguing me with your presence."

"That hurts." He whispered.

"Are you breaking a kind of rule? Because of your jealousy did you go against an order to keep being in the shadows?" She paused, suddenly afraid, her anger a thing of the past. "Are you in trouble for revealing yourself?"

"Are you worried about me?" He teased.

"Devlin, you need to go." She said snidely, ignoring his poor attempt at humor. "I've lived peacefully for three years, I'm not ready to start all these games with you. After almost dying with grief, I have managed to make myself happy without you."

"But are you fulfilled?" He turned to look at her and her heart skipped. "Does that red-necked modern day Voldemort fulfill all your secret desires?"

"Yes." She lied, turning away.

"You sure?"

"I said yes." She snapped, turning to regard him haughtily but the expression froze on her face and quickly switched into something akin to horror when she saw that he had leaned towards her and was dangerously close. Her mouth ran dry and three years of pent up desires and wants exploded in mighty, lustful waves, so great that it made her throb in the most sensual places in her body.

He ran his hands over her arms and gooseflesh rose there. Her heartbeat accelerated and her breath started to hitch. What was happening to her? If she was thinking with her heart, she would give in to the pleasures she wanted at the drop of a hat, but she was thinking with her head, and her head was angry. Angry at him for leaving her for three years. He had no idea how much she'd suffered and how much she'd had to endure. She gazed at him, completely aroused and angry at the same time.

His face was getting closer and it annoyed Pamela at the way her nipples beaded just because of the way his breath fanned her face. She gritted her teeth and cursed her love button for throbbing when his stubble scratched her. Groaning, she dragged him down on her and grinded her lips against his, kissing him in a totally shameless and ravenous way that made her angry than anything else.

Raw desire exploded in her, pure and unadulterated. Pent up longings of a long time sent her into a spiral of passion and a feeling that accompanied an unsatisfied thirst that refused to be quenched. It was a fundamental feeling that was hard to define but one she knew she was helpless against. He carried her without effort and she straddled him, kissing, tasting, dueling, stroking his lips, as if catching up on all the love and passion they had missed.

She didn't want to ever stop, nor did she want to ever let go of him again. At this point, her anger had completely left her and had been replaced by a feeling of gratitude, love and yearning. He lifted her gown and ran his hands over her bare bottom flesh and it made her giddy with pleasure. She gasped with pleasure as he parted her underwear and sipped his hands into her and fondled her in ways that made her see the starts, driving her crazy. It was all in a rush, but when he slid into her she was very ready and very mosit for him.

They made love in an aggressively passionate manner and Pamela couldn't help the tears that ran down her face as she saw tiny burts of stars when they both attained ecstacy at the same time.

"What have I done?" She asked against his beating chest when it was over.

"I missed you so much." Was his raspy reply. He raised her face towards his and devoured her lips once again. "I'm so sorry for leaving you, my love." He trailed short kisses over her face, her neckline and her forehead before settling once more on her lips.

Pamela kissed him back with as much fervor and passion that matched his to the utmost fare-thee-well. When they pulled back, she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. He was really here, she thought to herself, her husband was really alive. It was a lot to take in but she had to get used to the fact that he was alive and breathing. It was not easy to understand but it was her reality, one she would savor with all intensity.

"I missed you so much." She said with equal amount of emotional raspiness. "So, so much."

"I missed you more my love." Pamela could hear the tears in his voice. "It drove me crazy knowing you were within reach and I could not touch you," He raised her head to face him and stroked her cheeks. "That I couldn't kiss you," He leaned in and kissed her, openmouthed and deep. "That I couldn't wipe your tears," He wiped her tears stroked her hair. "And I couldn't make love to you." He kissed her again, just as her sobs began to rise.

"I love you." Pamela said hugging him again and holding him tight. The emotions she was feeling were all too much but she knew she was grateful. "I don't ever want to let you go, ever."

"Then I guess it was a good thing I came right in time to save you from a loveless marriage of convenience."

Pamela's head snapped up, a look of horror etched on her face. "Oh shit, Marcel." Pamela started wriggling so as to get off Devlin.

"What about him?"

"Can you get off me?"

"You're on me."

"Well get me off you." She snapped.

He helped her back to the passenger side of the van and Pamela started to adjust her clothes. She glanced at Devlin and saw that he was watching her with a scowl.

"Come off it, Devlin."

"It's suspicious that you're still concerned about that dickhead."

"It's been hours I left. He would be worried sick."

"So?"

"So?" She echoed incredulously. "I still owe him an explanation."

"You owe him nothing."

"Yes, I do."

"No you don't. In fact I owe him something. A bullet to the head."

Pamela stared at him, mouth agape, then she sighed warily and kept on trying to dress up. "You have not changed."

"There's no need to state the obvious. What exactly do you owe him? If I recall correctly, he was a traitor."

Pamela saw red and she flew into a rage. "If I recall correctly, he was backed into a corner and had no choice, if I recall correctly he risked his life to save mine and lost his sight in the process, if I recall correctly, he was there when I had no one to console me, he held my hands, sang me to bed, did everything so I would survive!" She pushed the door open and jumped down from the van, then turned to face him, an angry glare on her face and stony rage on his. "If I recall correctly, you were no where to be found."

She slammed the door and marched off for her house, not caring to look back if he followed or not. Devlin was back, therefore, stress and tumultuous emotions would be in tow. It was so like Devlin to get her to love, desire and hate all at the snap of a finger.

He didn't follow after all, Pamela thought as she got to the gate of her house. Good for him. She pushed the gate open and her heart broke at what she saw. Marcel, Flore and Henry –

OMG Henry!

He had a pack of ice on his head and had a sad look on his face, as did the others. Marcel had the saddest look on his face and it made her want to cry. If she said the truth to herself, she would marry Marcel in a whim because unlike the wildness Devlin totted, Marcel was more gentle, calm and very understanding. Hopefully he would keep being understanding.

She cleared her throat and her heart squeezed as they all stood in shock and Marcel looked around in confusion. He was pushed to the side by Flore who was in a hurry to hug her. Tears stung her eyes and guilt gnawed at her.

"Oh my goodness, Pamela!" Flore exclaimed and hugged her. "What happened? We were worried!"

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

"We saw Henry lying unconscious and you were no where to be found –"

"Does he remember what happened?" Pamela interrupted. She was terrified that Henry would remember Devlin or something of the sort and therefore blow his cover. She berated herself for caring about the selfish bastard, whom she unfortunately was still very much in love with, but sadly, she was helpless. Love was a strong force that makes one make stupid and rash decisions, and if given the opportunity, one would make those decisions over again in a whim. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and Pamela had tasted how true that was.

"No." Florence glanced sadly at her husband who had sat again at his former position on the porch steps beside Marcel. "He's said nothing."

She released her breath slowly. "Okay, please I need to talk to Marcel alone. Please."

"No." Florence said. "We all know what happened there's no need to hide now."

Pamela's heart stopped in her chest. "Y-you do?" She stuttered.

"Yes. We know you finally came to your senses and didn't want to go ahead with the wedding." She shot Marcel a spiteful look. "Thank God." All that she said very loud.

"Florence. Please. He's blind not deaf." Pamela scolded, pissed. "Now please excuse us." She walked towards Marcel and smiled apologetically at Henry. "How's your head?"

"Hurts like a root canal."

She grimaced and more guilt flooded her. He smiled at her, stood and walking into the house with Florence.

She walked closer to Marcel, guilt streaking through her along with sadness and pity. He was looking at her, concern and bits of confusion etched on his face and it made Pamela worse. "Hey." She said quietly.

"Hey." He smiled at her.

"Marcel I –" She began and her throat constricted. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." He reached for her hand, kissed it and placed it on his chest. "I'm just grateful you're fine. I was worried."

"I'm sorry." She said again. Honestly, there was nothing else she could say than to keep apologizing. If only an apology was good enough to rid him of the hurt and pain she had caused.

"You should have told me." He whispered gently. "I would have understood."

His calm voice, along side the look of hurt in his eyes which he was trying so hard to efface tore her heart into shreds. Hot tears stung her eyes and she couldn't hold back the sobs that chocked her but she didn't make a sound so he wouldn't hear and be worried. She swallowed and tried to abate the floodgate of tears that was pouring from her eyes. She became short of breath and breathed in admits sobs. "I'm sorry."

Marcel frowned. "Are you crying? Don't cry."

He moved closer and enveloped her in a warm hug. Pamela sobbed against him. A traitorous part of her was trying to show her the glaring difference between sobbing on Devlin and sobbing on Marcel and she told herself that she didn't care. She still preferred Marcel to anything. Or anyone. Or did she?

"I'm so sorry." She sobbed. "I just –" The rising sobs cut off her words.

He pulled back and cradled her face in his palms. "I know. I rushed you. You just weren't ready."

"Nor will she ever be." An angry voice growled.

Pamela gasped and turned to see Devlin standing just beyond them. She heard Marcel draw in a sharp in take of breath and stiffen too. Devlin's face was contorted in rage and Pamela felt herself automatically shrink back when he took hulking steps towards them.

He stopped and directed an angry and vicious scowl at Marcel whose mouth was still hanging open in absolute shock. "She's never gonna be ready because she's still married to me." One long step brought him close enough to grab her by the hand. "Deal with it."

And with that, he marched off, Pamela hopelessly and helplessly in tow.

~

I'm kinda feeling sorry for Marcel, lol.

Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed the chapter, please vote, comment your thoughts, add to your library and reading lists and share. Thank you :)