Devlin was stunned but he recovered quickly.

"What?"

"Your family home is in Kaliningrad, Russia." She leaned seductively and whispered, "Or am I wrong, Leonid Chernyshevsky?"

For the first five seconds, he stood, staring at her, trying to efface the clanging sounds that was going off in his head, overwhelming him. He tried to school his features to look bored, to look nonchalant or unconcerned, but he couldn't. An electric wire sparked in his brain and went off.

Chagrined, he lunged for her, whacked her across the face and grabbed her neck. "Where did you hear that? How did you find them? Who told you that?!" He hollered, squeezing tighter and then realizing who he was chocking, he released her immediately.

Pamela fell on the bed, coughing hard, breathing slowly. Devlin stood, watching her, shocked to the core, unable to believe he'd raised his hand on his wife. He came back to his senses when he saw she was coughing and gasping for breath and so he raced to the kitchen for a bottle of water and brought it to her. He tried to make her drink it but she slapped it away.

"Babe," He said, tears filling his eyes.

There were tears in her eyes too. Her breathing was ragged and she was holding her neck.

"Pamela I –" He tried to touch her but she shrank away and gave him a look. It was one he hated to see, especially not from the woman he loved.

She looked at him like he was a monster, an abusive person. There was fear in her eyes. Panic, terror. He didn't want her to feel that way, dammit.

"Baby –" He moved towards her and she shrank back, shaking visibly.

"Don't hurt me!"

"I could never hurt you."

"Then go away."

"Please don't let me go away."

She lunged to her feet, grabbed her phone and headed for the stairs. Devlin buried his face in his palms and ran his hands through his hair. How could he have raised his hand on his wife? How could he?

He stood and went after her. He had to apologize. Even if she wants him to grovel on his knees till they bled, he was going to beg her. He was going to weep till she accepts him. He was going to do whatever she wanted. He would go to the fucking moon and pluck it from space if that was what she wanted. He had to beg her.

When he got down the stairs, he barely caught her walking out the front door. He saw Cody standing at the door, looking guilty.

"What?" Devlin barked, angry that Cody had seen tears on his face.

"She said she can't stay here tonight."

"Where will she go? It's late."

"She said she wants to go to – to Deaton's place."

Devlin's silence was think and angry. He gritted his teeth and bunched his fists. "Take her."

"Sir?" Cody asked, shocked. He had obviously expected Devlin to put on a fight.

"Take her." He repeated. "Do anything and everything she wants. When you get there, tell Deaton that if he much as lay a finger on her," He stopped, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. He should be the one protecting her. He should be the one not laying a finger on her. Tears of regret stung his eyes. "Go."

The instant Cody shut the door, he cried bitterly. Who could he blame? His family? Yes, his family. No, they were not his family. As far as he was concerned, he was an orphan. It was the Chernyshevsky family. Those evil people had destroyed a lot in his childhood and had extended their ugly claws into the peaceful life he'd managed to build.

How the hell had Pamela known about them? Only one name came to his mind and he swore bitterly. He would deal with Art later. Now, he had to think of ways to get his woman back. Only one stuck out like a sore thumb – expose Deaton.

Deaton's betrayal would hopefully weigh more than his outburst and she would run back to his arms. He felt bad that he was contemplating exploiting her emotions but did he have a choice? But what if she got mad and shunned both parties? It would be a win for Devlin either ways because everything was better than her being with Deaton.

He paced for several seconds, weighing his options, thinking of what to do. If he could, he would go after her at the moment and stop her from getting to Deaton's house. He didn't even want her shadow to darken his porch. But then he realized that she was afraid of him. Afraid!

Pamela was a woman who had never been afraid, not on the first day he met her even when she thought he was an bad mafia, or the day she faced death with Bull. She was a strong woman and it made him contrite that he'd shattered her trust and her heart. If he went after her, she would go with him because of fear and the last thing he wanted was for her to live in fear of him. Once upon a time, a long time ago, he wouldn't have minded but things were different now.

He decided to wait till the next morning. He was going to let her make her decision without feeling forced, or should he? Devlin dealt with his conscience for a few more minutes before giving up and going to bed.

It had been a waste of time because Devlin couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned because of different thoughts. He couldn't help but wonder what Marcel would do with his wife. What if he tried to use his battered state to win her back? What if he tried to touch her, especially after the way he'd had bragged to him about the day of the wedding? He should have just given the son of a bitch a coup de grâce. That would have made a hell lot of things easier.

Making a decision, Devlin sprang to a sitting position and stayed in the room long enough to grab his jacket. He was going to get his wife. It would be inappropriate for her to sleep in another man's house, especially with a man like Deaton. He was suspicious of him now that he knew he was pretending. He didn't want anything bad to happen to her. Devlin told himself that it was for Pamela's safety and wellbeing that he was driving to Deaton's house by half past eleven.

He wasn't afraid of getting attacked or mugged so he didn't take any of his boys but he took his gun, just in case things went awry. He loved the feel of the revolver strapped to his waist. The whole street was dead quiet and was lighted by florescent bulbs. When he got to Marcel's house, he switched off the ignition and sat in his car for minutes, contemplating his move. He didn't want Pamela to hate him the more neither did he want to leave her here. After fighting a war with his conscience and common sense, he alighted from the car and jumped over the low picket fence.

A dog started to bark at him from inside the house. How had the dog sensed his presence? The bark became loud and more frantic. Devlin looked towards the dog house that was sitting by the house and could see the mutt's head. It was gritting its teeth and growling furiously. Devlin gave the dog the middle finger and strode across the lawn to stand at the entrance.

Shitty man with a shitty taste, Devlin concluded. What man lives in a house with vegetable garden and a white picket fence?

The dog didn't stop barking. It annoyed the crap out of him. A light came on in the house and Devlin heard someone calling out to the dog. He chose that moment to knock on the door.

"Who's that?" Came a cautious reply.

"Open the door motherfucker. Apparently, you have my wife."

In another ten minutes, Devlin was standing across from Pamela who stood, hands folded, glaring daggers.

"Pamela I came to apologize." He began slowly.

"At midnight? It couldn't wait till morning? You had to disturb the sleep of neighbours because of your selfishness?"

He was taken aback at the anger in her voice. "I couldn't sleep, I was worried about you."

She sighed warily. "Devlin, please go away. Please. I don't want to see you. Not today, not ever."

"Pamela please be rational."

She laughed scornfully. "What? You hit me on the face and chocked me and you dare talk about being rational? Don't insult me. The fact that I didn't call the cops on you is because people like you own the police." She raised her hand to silence him when he tried to speak. "The only reason I agreed to see you is because I don't want the peace of the whole neighbourhood to be disturbed, because that's what you do. You don't care about others provided you get what you want. I'm sick and tired of it."

Devlin swallowed the painful lump that formed in his throat. "I don't – I didn't mean to –"

"Of course you didn't. Devlin, our relationship is toxic, I realize that now. I cannot, and will not keep on doing this with you."

Devlin's heart broke. He was almost inaudible when he whispered, "So you want to leave me? I thought you loved me."

"Guess I don't anymore." The conviction in her voice was breaking his heart the more. "Guess I'm realizing that what I had for you wasn't love, I was only infatuated, excited to be with a bad, handsome man. That excitement has worn off, Devlin. Goodbye."

He grabbed her arm, barely able to keep his tears at bay. They rolled down his face. "Pamela please."

She yanked it away. "Stop this."

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

She avoided looking at him when she said quietly, "I don't care." Then she raised her chin and looked straight into his eyes. "Don't you get it Devlin? You ruin everything and anything that comes in contact with you. You drag them into this mire of confusion and hate and unhappiness. I'm sick of it."

Devlin took another angle. "You can't leave me. I'm the only one that can keep you safe."

"So you keep saying!" She exploded furiously. "For the years you were gone I didn't hear the words safety, danger, safe house! I was happy and secure and would have been happily married if you hadn't ruined it!"

Devlin shut his eyes to stop his tears. "Deaton can't keep you safe. You can't trust him."

"And I can trust you? Devlin I know nothing about you. Nothing! I didn't even know your last name up until yesterday, which means our marriage, everything we shared was a lie. At least Marcel is more honest than you ever have been."

"Is that so?" Devlin's adrenaline started to pump. He was playing his trump card. He was getting his wife back. "Well did he tell you that he's been deceiving you all along? Did you know he can see? Did you know he's not blind?"

Devlin expected Pamela to be shocked, but it was he that was shocked by her baleful reply, "I know."

He was so shocked that he could barely speak. His tongue turned into lead making it hard to lift it. He was frozen to his pants. When he regained his tongue, he asked, "What?"

"I know that Marcel can see, Devlin. I know!"

"Tha-that can't be." Devlin started to feel like all the air had left him and he couldn't breathe. He felt like he'd been hit with a brass rod and had been knocked off his feet. "He deceived you! You–you can't trust him."

She sighed heavily and shook her head pitifully. "At what point do you stop lying? Look at what you did to him, isn't that enough?"

"Pamela, please believe me." Devlin was desperate.

Pamela shook her head in pity. "The funny thing is, when I met you and thought I was in love with you, you were ten feet tall. Now," She made her thumb and index finger to indicate the size of an ant. "you're this big." She started to back away. "Leave, Devlin. If you want me to retain the little amount of respect that I still have for you, just leave."

She turned and headed for the door and stepped inside. Devlin stood there for several minutes, dumbfounded, shocked and confused. How had she known? What had happened? His thoughts were in shambles and so he couldn't even assemble them to assimilate what had just taken place.

"You're shocked?"

Devlin raised his head slowly. "Give me one reason not to snap off your head."

Marcel walked towards him, a smug look contouring his face. "I'll give you one. Pamela is sleeping, you don't want to upset her." He said sweetly.

Devlin fisted his hands, wishing he could connect it with Marcels chin to wipe off the conceited look off his face. He was dying to know what had happened but bit back his tongue. He would rather die than admit that what had happened had been a big slap on the face. He started to turn towards the gate. He had to cut his losses and accept defeat.

"Tell me something, Gusev."

"Yes I think you're an asshole." He said through gritted teeth.

He laughed. "No seriously, tell me, how do you do it? How do you restrain yourself? I mean, aren't you the least bit curious about what happened?"

Devlin fought his pride for some seconds before turning to face Deaton. "You're smart, I'll give you credit on that."

"You know as the saying goes, make hay while the sun shines. I had accepted defeat because I knew there was no way you wouldn't let her in on my secret. I was already looking for ways to beg for her forgiveness if and when you told her. I was terrified because I knew you were a cruel person and you wouldn't spare her feelings, so when she came here, angry and blazing hot, my heart jumped out of my mouth. I thought she had come to yell at me in anger, to confront me but lo and behold, she needed my comfort! I hugged her, assured her that everything would be fine – you should have seen how she was hanging to my every word, and then ceasing the opportunity, I told her that I could see.

How could a blind person see all of a sudden? A miracle that science could not explain? Not likely. I had to use something that you had put in my hands. The fire! I told her that my neurons triggered my recovery. Who would have guessed that my blindness was psychological? The hideous event of that invasion five years ago had made my neurons block my sight and consequently, the fear and panic in the fire triggered my neurons to make me see again! How great is that?" He laughed scornfully.

"You sly son of a bitch." Devlin growled.

"She was elated! She hugged me so tight that I felt her nipples on my skin."

Devlin took a threatening step forward. "Shut up."

"I can't. I need to explain things." He smirked complacently. "We celebrated with wine. Tomorrow morning - scratch that, we're already in a new day - this morning, we'll be visiting my doctor to check things out and to ensure I don't have a relapse. How sweet of her. Things are looking up for the both of us, thanks to you."

"If you don't shut your mouth I swear I'll –"

"The fire and hitting her." He continued as if he hadn't heard him. "Can't you see? You shot yourself in the leg!" He laughed harder than before.

"I will kill you, I swear I will kill you!"

Marcel looked at the house and whispered. "Shhh, you don't want to wake her." Then he snickered. "I would advise you sir not to do anything that will put you in trouble with the authorities. Last night, I advised her to report you to the police as the one that started the fire. She would have already done that if she doesn't think you can escape the authorities so easily. I didn't have to convince her that much and she had already jumped at the idea. My, my, she was so bitter. So much for loving you."

"It doesn't matter. I'm gonna get her back." He said to himself with conviction. "Only I can protect her."

"Oh I can too. Remember, I have eyes now."

"You're no competition for me. I'll get her back."

"Oh I highly doubt that. You see Mr. Gusev, I don't hit women. Instead, I tame them, care for them, listen to them pour their hearts out, give them kisses on their heads every now and then. By them, I mean sweet Pam Pam, and she is loving every single minute of my pampering." He leaned in, his smile gone. "Why don't you beat that asshole?"

~

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