Page 47 of Die for You (Diamond Devils #4)

Aurora

The Devils have been arrested. They’re going to jail.

My stomach coils into a painful, nauseating knot. Even with my friends by my side, I feel cold and alone without them.

I wrap my arms tight around my middle, shivering despite the temperate night air.

Damien wasn’t going to let Jeremiah walk away alive. He was willing to go to prison, possibly for the rest of his life, for me. Willing to give up his whole life for me.

I should feel flattered, enamored, but the thought makes me sick. If he’d given up that much for me, I don’t know how I would’ve been able to forgive myself.

Part of me wishes Jeremiah was dead so this hell could be over. Another part of me is relieved the Devils won’t face murder charges.

A paramedic attends to Jeremiah until his wild gaze lands on me. He stumbles toward us, clutching at his jaw.

Luke wraps a protective arm around my shoulders when he gets too close. “Don’t even think about it, buddy.”

Warm comfort spreads through me. Luke is like the protective older brother I never had.

Juliet steps between us. “I know far too many ways to castrate a man for you to take another step closer to her.”

And apparently, Juliet is the protective psycho sister I never had.

Jeremiah holds his hands up in surrender. Dried blood is smeared under his nose, flecks of crimson spattered across his cheek and shirt. His ear is puffy and cherry red. “I just want to talk to Rora. I won’t touch her.”

“We know you won’t,” Juliet purrs. “Because that would be very, very stupid.”

I shrug off Luke’s arm and manage a smile at all of them despite the nausea, horror, and despair churning in my gut. “It’s okay.”

Jeremiah won’t do anything to me with so many witnesses. Juliet is right—he’s not that stupid.

He tucks his hands in his pockets like a peace offering as I follow him a few feet away for privacy.

The paramedics wait to take him to the hospital, but he holds up a finger to them.

“Listen. Your little guard dogs accused me of breaking into your house. Stealing your stuff? I didn’t do any of that. ”

Rage quickly replaces the nerves. The Devils didn’t do all of this for him to still lie and deny it straight to my fucking face.

“Don’t play dumb. You trashed their house.

You stole all my stuff. My violin , Jeremiah.

” Even though I’m well aware of what he’s capable of, hot tears still blur my vision.

“How could you? You know what that means to me.”

“Rora, I’m telling you: I didn’t do that. I swear. My parents made me move back home with them, get a job, apply to colleges. I’m an hour away from here. I didn’t break into your house or take any of your stuff. I didn’t take your violin. I?—”

“I know you’ve been following us around,” I cut him off. I’m ready to punch him in the face myself. I’m sick of his constant lies. “Peeking through windows, slashing tires, texting from random numbers. You’re not going to get away with it.”

Maybe the Devils got arrested tonight, but once we have proof about everything Jeremiah’s been doing, all the ways he’s violated the protective order?—

“I swear , Rora.” His eyes are wide and he takes a step closer, but his hands are tucked into his pockets.

I’m so used to his lies, but the urgency in his gaze, the pitch to his voice, actually makes him seem.

..genuine. “I haven’t done any of that.

My parents pretty much have me on house arrest. Everything that happened between us.

..” He searches the stars above us like they might have the answers.

”I know it sounds lame, but it was a wake-up call.

I treated you like shit, and there’s no excuse for it.

I never got a chance to say it, and I know this will probably be the last time we ever talk, so. ..I’m sorry.”

All of my self-restraint is required to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Even if he’s being sincere, it’s too little, too late. An apology doesn’t undo any of the damage he’s done, and he’s done a lot of it. “I don’t accept your apology. And I don’t believe you.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to look at me a second longer. I brace myself for an outburst or a hissed threat. Instead, when he turns back to me, he asks, “When did the break-in happen?”

“I don’t know. Sometime between, like, three-thirty and one.”

Plenty of time for Jeremiah to make the trip down, break in, trash the place, and head home like nothing happened.

He pulls out his phone from his back pocket, screen marred with a long, jagged crack, and swipes for a few seconds before he shows me the screen.

Camera footage. Instantly, I recognize the three-story French Colonial. The house I lived in for a year. Where I met Jeremiah.

His parents’ house.

In the footage, darkness surrounds Jeremiah except for the floodlight from the garage as he leaves the home and gets in his car.

“See the timestamp? I was home until I got the text from you— them —telling me to meet you here.” He scrolls back and shows me multiple videos of him returning home in the afternoon. His parents’ comings and goings from the house.

While we were at the hockey game and celebrating afterward, Jeremiah was home.

My stomach drops to my feet. I never considered that the person who broke in, trashed the place, and stole my stuff could be anyone other than Jeremiah.

If he didn’t break into our house, who did?

While my friends sleep, I clean the house as best as I can. After returning the curtains to the windows, I manage to pass out for an hour on the couch—unable to stomach sleeping in any of their beds without them—until my ringtone wakes me.

An unknown number calling me in the middle of the night. Dread clutches at me with its sharp talons. Jeremiah claimed he’s not the one who has been harassing us for weeks. But if not him, then who?

Tentatively, I swipe my thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

An automated voice tells me I’m receiving a call from the county jail, and relief floods through me only briefly before I tense again. I’m not ready to talk to the Devils again. To have the conversation with them that I know we need to have. Unavoidable.

I roped them into my problems, and now their lives are worse because of it. Because they met me.

They’ve been arrested, they’re spending a night in jail, and Jeremiah’s parents will undoubtedly sue all three of them for assault. Maybe they’ll involve me in the suit too, accusing me of sending the Devils after him.

This is my fault. If I hadn’t let the Devils in my life, they wouldn’t be dealing with this shit. Whoever is behind all of this, I can’t let them keep targeting three innocent men.

“Aurora?” Damien’s rough voice fills my ear, heartbreakingly familiar and desperate.

“Hey.” The word is small, soft. I clear my throat. “I’m glad you called.”

“Are you okay? Are you back at the house? Are Luke and Trey with you?”

“I’m fine. Everyone’s home.” They’ll probably be asleep until noon. Between the booze, the break-in, and the fight, they’ve all had a long night. I’ve put all of them through so much. “Are you okay? And Finn and Knox?”

“We’re great. Nothing better than sharing a shitter in jail.” The sarcastic edge to his voice makes me wince.

“I need to tell you something. It wasn’t Jeremiah who broke in and trashed the house.”

The line goes quiet for so long, I nearly ask if he’s still there until Damien’s low, dangerous voice demands, “Who the hell else could it have been?”

I don’t know. That’s what I can’t wrap my head around. Who else would’ve done something like this? Who else would’ve left everyone else’s belongings and stolen only mine? As far as I know, Jeremiah is the only enemy I have, and breaking and entering isn’t his parents’ style.

“Jeremiah showed me video footage from his parents’ house. He was an hour away when the break-in happened. He couldn’t have done it.”

Damien needs to know the truth, even if the revelation is the last thing he wants to hear. Especially because it means he lured Jeremiah to campus, attacked him, and went to jail for no reason.

“He must’ve hired someone to do it then,” Damien snaps. “Don’t believe a word he says, Aurora.”

A sigh falls from my lips as my vision blurs. I clutch the phone like it might anchor me to him. To all three of them. “I shouldn’t have gotten you roped into this mess. I think...I think it’s for the best that I get my own place again.”

“ No .” Finn’s ocean-deep voice fills my ear now.

My chest clenches.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Rory,” Knox insists, urgent. Like he’s talking me down off a ledge. “And you’re not getting your own place. You’re ours now, remember?”

“I can’t keep putting you in harm’s way.

” I nearly choke on the words. Especially now that someone else is out there targeting me.

I can’t let the Devils get caught in the shrapnel.

“Trey is posting bail for you in the morning. But it’ll be a few hours before you can get out.

And when you do...don’t come looking for me, okay? ”

I hang up before their shouted objections make me change my mind.

From Finn’s room, I grab the book Sienna let me borrow and leave it on the kitchen table.

I had hoped I would meet Violet someday and tell her she wrote a great book, but it’s for the best for all of them that I leave now. Before things get worse.

Leaving now is the only option. If I wait, Sienna and Juliet will try to interfere. Then they’ll send Luke and Trey to barricade me in the house until the Devils return.

Behind me, I shut the front door as quietly as possible so I don’t wake anyone. My few remaining belongings are in my bag. I tug my jacket closer, a phantom breeze licking at my cheeks.

I’ve never felt lonelier in my life. Even when I hopped from foster home to foster home. At least back then, I didn’t know what I didn’t have.

Now I do.

While I head down the sidewalk, I unlock my phone to hire a ride-share. I’ll take a flight to New York, arrive at Juilliard early, and I’ll skip graduation. I don’t need to attend the ceremony to get my degree.

I’ll stay in New York and disappear in a sea of eight million people.

As I open up the ride-share app, a soft, wet cloth obscures my vision.

My jaw drops open, but before I can let out a scream, the cloth swallows my nose and a hand covers my mouth.

And the world goes dark.