Page 12 of Devlin (Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana #4)

The moment Mia left the small office, a hollow ache settled in Devlin’s chest. It was a void he hadn’t felt in years but recognized instantly.

Her absence had hit him harder than he could have imagined, leaving him grappling with the heartache he had buried long ago.

But even amid the weight of that pain, a strange clarity came with seeing her again.

It was a bittersweet relief, like taking his first breath after holding it underwater for too long.

Before he could follow her, the room’s tension sharpened. Three sets of eyes fixed on him, unrelenting in their scrutiny.

Margarethe arched a brow, her no-nonsense demeanor cutting through the quiet. “Do you want to explain what just happened? I’ve known Mia a long time, and I’ve never seen her like that.”

Devlin shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flicking between Margarethe and his two fellow Keepers, Cole and Todd.

Their expressions revealed a mix of curiosity and concern, paired with the expectation that he’d handle this without derailing the mission.

He recognized it because it was exactly how he’d look if the roles were reversed.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, releasing a heavy sigh that felt as though it had been lodged in his chest for years.

When he finally looked back at Margarethe, her steady, expectant stare bore into him.

He wasn’t just talking to colleagues… this was Mia’s supervisor.

Whatever he said now could affect her job, and the last thing he wanted was to bring more trouble to her door.

“I know her,” he admitted, his voice gravelly with restraint. “And before you ask—no, she wasn’t some casual hookup from my past. I met her when she was fifteen. I was sixteen. We dated for ten years.”

“Holy shit,” Todd muttered, his surprise breaking the charged silence.

“The one from your past,” Cole added, his tone laced with realization.

Devlin hesitated, debating how much to reveal. A team thrived on trust, but revisiting the pain of his history with Mia felt like walking barefoot on shattered glass. Still, honesty was nonnegotiable.

“She didn’t just get away,” he said, his voice quieter now, the weight of his admission dragging it down. “I pushed her away. Ten years ago, I broke her trust, and I know I broke her heart. What she never knew was that mine was broken, too.”

He glanced up, his gaze locking on Margarethe’s. Vulnerability clawed at him, leaving him feeling strangely exposed under her unwavering stare.

“Fuck,” Cole mumbled under his breath.

“You can say that again,” Devlin replied with a grim nod.

Margarethe leaned back in her chair, her expression carefully neutral, though her piercing eyes missed nothing. “I only have one question for you.”

Devlin stood straighter, bracing himself. “What’s that?”

“Is this going to be a problem?”

“No.” His response came quickly, too sharp, and even he knew it sounded defensive.

Her brow arched again in a silent challenge. “Are you sure about that?”

He opened his mouth, but the truth caught in his throat. With a frustrated exhale, he looked down at his boots, hands resting on his hips as he collected his thoughts. When he raised his head again, his eyes were steady.

“I hope not,” he admitted, his tone softer but resolute. “Mia is dedicated to her cause, and I’m just as committed to keeping her safe. Whatever happened between us before—it won’t interfere with the mission.”

Margarethe studied him for a moment longer before nodding and standing. Her commanding presence made the gesture feel like a dismissal. “All right. I’ll take your word for it. For now. I suggest you all get some rest. I’ll review the files tonight, and we’ll regroup in the morning.”

Devlin released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as she walked out. His thoughts, however, refused to settle. His team might have accepted his assurance, but the storm between him and Mia wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Cole hefted the chairs and carried them down the stairs with Todd close behind, their easy camaraderie filling the space.

Devlin trailed them, his mind elsewhere.

As they descended, his eyes scanned the warehouse, searching instinctively for Mia.

The place buzzed with activity. Voices overlapped as workers moved supplies, but she wasn’t among them.

He headed out into the cooler evening air, the scent of dust and faint traces of cooking fires mingling in the breeze. Just as his hopes began to wane, he caught sight of her.

Mia sat in a Jeep parked at the edge of the warehouse, her profile illuminated by the sun low in the sky. She looked so achingly familiar yet like a stranger all at once. Alone in the vehicle, she seemed small but undeniably resilient.

For a moment, Devlin felt the ground tilt beneath him as he waged a silent war within himself. The pull to run to her, to finally say what had been locked in his heart for a decade, battled against the walls of restraint he’d built over the years.

As if sensing his gaze, Mia turned. Their eyes locked.

Everything else—the clamor of the camp and the distant conversations—faded into oblivion.

The air between them crackled with their shared past and unspoken words in that suspended moment.

Her expression shifted, something raw flickering in her eyes.

Then, as if she’d made a decision, Mia took a sharp breath, turned away, and faced forward.

The Jeep’s engine sputtered, and the vehicle jerked forward, rolling onto the uneven lane and away from him.

Devlin stood frozen, the space where she had been now filled with emptiness. He barely registered Margarethe’s voice until she turned toward him.

“Good night,” she said simply, dipping her chin. Her steady gaze lingered on him and he felt assessed and warned. Then she paused, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Mia means the world to me, Devlin. I’m trusting you to do right by her.”

Her words landed with the weight of an unspoken threat. “Understood, ma’am,” he said firmly.

She studied him a moment longer before nodding and walking away, her figure fading into the shadows of the camp.

When he finally turned, he found Cole and Todd watching him, their postures relaxed but their gazes sharp.

“I’m not even going to suggest we get someone else to take your place,” Cole said, crossing his arms. “I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason. You being here, her being here—it’s not a coincidence.”

Devlin nodded slowly, Cole’s words echoing the deep pull he felt in his chest. “There hasn’t been a day in the past ten years when I haven’t thought about her,” he admitted quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

“But I figured that ship had sailed.” He paused, his gaze turning toward the direction the Jeep had gone.

Determination hardened his tone. “Now that I have this chance, I’ll right the wrongs of the past. That’s a promise.

After that...we’ll see if she’s willing to forgive. ”

The sound of soft, measured footsteps broke the moment. Devlin turned to see Farid approaching. The wiry man stopped a few feet away and met Devlin’s gaze with calm intensity. “Al-qalb alladhi yuhibb la yatab,” Farid said, his accented voice warm.

Devlin frowned slightly. “I’m sorry—I don’t understand.”

Farid’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “It means, ‘The heart that loves never grows weary.’”

“I—” Devlin faltered, caught off guard by the weight of those words.

Farid tilted his head, his expression kind but penetrating.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Devlin. I can see it in your eyes.

Regret. Hope. Love. Life gives you all of those, but mostly love.

” Farid inclined his head toward Cole and Todd in a goodbye gesture before stepping away, his figure disappearing into the soft glow of the evening lights.

Devlin exhaled deeply, his chest expanding with the pungent mix of cooking spices and wood smoke that filled the air.

He wasn’t just here to investigate stolen food supplies or protect the camp.

This mission had become something far more personal—an opportunity to bridge the chasm between him and Mia, to lay his heart bare, and hope she might do the same.

“Did you guys find out where the dining hall is?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Todd smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The three men made their way toward the guesthouse and staff quarters, their steps falling into an easy rhythm.

When they reached the dining tent, the setup was all too familiar—long tables under canvas, the clatter of utensils, and the faint aroma of rice and beans wafting in the air.

It mirrored countless meals Devlin had shared on military missions before.

Soon seated at the end of the table, he looked down at their trays, noting that each had not taken much food.

While the three large men could burn through calories, they were aware of being in an area where a simple beans and rice meal was a feast. Devlin absently poked at the rice on his tray while Todd and Cole fell into easy conversation.

His eyes kept scanning the tent, restless and searching. He noted Robert seated at a table with a small group of staffers, his posture relaxed as he spoke with them. But Mia was nowhere to be seen.

Devlin’s stomach clenched as his gaze lingered on Robert. Something about Robert’s earlier concern for Mia set Devlin’s nerves on edge. And then came the thought he didn’t want to entertain but couldn’t shake—had Robert and Mia been close? Were they close now?

It’s been ten years , he reminded himself, his grip tightening on his fork. Who knows how many people she’s let into her life since then? The idea of Mia sharing herself, her heart, with someone else stirred a jealousy he had no right to feel.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Todd’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts.

Devlin jerked his head toward him, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“You’re glaring, man.” Todd leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “We’re supposed to be sliding in here quietly, not scaring people off. We don’t need to cozy up to anyone, but we definitely don’t want to piss them off right out of the gate.”

Devlin grimaced, leaning back and running a hand over his face. “Jesus. I told you all this wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe I was wrong.”

Cole leaned forward then, his forearms resting on the edge of the table, his tone calm but direct.

“Listen, you’re one of the sharpest guys I know, and you’ve come back from worse—hell, you’ve survived things most of us can’t even imagine.

You can handle this. But you’ve gotta stay focused.

I’m not saying you can’t think about Mia.

Damn, I’m rooting for you, brother. But if you lose your focus now, you’ll regret it later. ”

Devlin met Cole’s steady gaze and nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

As he glanced back toward Robert’s table, his chest tightened. The man had stood and was walking out of the tent, leaving behind a woman still finishing her meal.

Devlin’s jaw tightened as he stood, pushing his chair back. “You two head back if you want. I’m going to check in about Mia. I don’t like not knowing where she is.”

Todd straightened immediately. “You want us to help look for her?”

“Not yet.” Devlin shook his head. “Let me see what I can find out first. I’ll let you know if it’s anything to worry about.”

With a nod, Todd and Cole exited the tent, their figures disappearing into the dim light outside. Devlin turned his attention to the lone woman still sitting at the table.

“Excuse me,” he said, stepping closer. His tone was polite but edged with urgency. “I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, ma’am. I was wondering if you know Mia Duff.”

The woman looked up, startled by his sudden presence. She blinked, then dabbed her mouth with a napkin before offering a small smile. “Yes, I know Mia. She’s a good friend of mine. Who are you?”

He hesitated briefly before answering. “I’m one of the security team members with the WFP. I saw her leave earlier in a Jeep, and I haven’t seen her since. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” the woman said warmly, her accent lilting and musical.

“I’m Ritah, the head protection officer.

” She extended her hand, delicate but firm in its gesture.

“Don’t confuse that with a security officer like Moses.

My work focuses on the protection of vulnerable groups—women, children, and the elderly.

Most of my time is spent with women who’ve endured gender-based violence or children in need of safeguarding. ”

Devlin nodded, a flicker of respect crossing his features. He could only imagine the weight of her role and the emotional toll that came with witnessing such pain day after day. “That sounds like incredibly important work, but I’m sure it’s not easy.”

Ritah gave a small, tired smile. “It’s not, but it’s worth it.”

“I appreciate your time,” he said, stepping back slightly. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, ma’am.”

“Not at all,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “But I haven’t seen Mia since breakfast.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Though I haven’t been back to my quarters today. Mia and I share a container apartment. She has her own place on one side, and I have the other side.”

“Container apartment?” he asked, curiosity edging his tone.

Ritah chuckled, a light, airy sound that softened the weariness in her eyes.

“Yes, the staff quarters. They’re old shipping containers converted into small apartments.

Just efficiencies, really, but each has its own bathroom.

We still use the communal showers, but it’s nice to have a bit of privacy. Most of the other staff are in dorms.”

Devlin nodded, the description sparking memories of makeshift accommodations during deployments. “We had something similar in the military,” he said, his voice tinged with familiarity. “Again, I’m sorry for interrupting your meal, and thank you for the information.”

“You’re welcome,” Ritah said with a kind smile.