Divorced by the Devil Rider

CHAPTER 11 — DEVIL APPEARS

The blood hit the floor before I understood where it came from.

A wet sound. Thick. Heavy. The sound of a life turning into a stain on my rug.

I stared at the crimson pool spreading toward my toes. Then I looked at him.

Kade stood in the center of my apartment like he had built the walls himself. His hand was locked around the intruder’s throat, fingers buried deep in the flesh. The man was barely conscious, his boots dragging against the broken glass near the window, leaving smeared streaks of red behind him like a dying animal's trail.

I didn’t remember Kade pulling him back inside. I didn't remember hearing the glass shatter.

He was just… there. An inevitable force.

The intruder made a weak, wet choking sound. His fingers clawed uselessly at Kade’s wrist, nails scratching against skin that felt like granite. Kade didn’t even flinch. He didn’t tighten his grip, but he didn’t loosen it either. He just held the man in that suffocating limbo.

Waiting. Watching me.

My stomach turned violently, a wave of nausea hitting me so hard I felt lightheaded.

“Kade,” I whispered.

His name felt like a sin on my tongue. He turned his head slightly. Not a look of comfort—it was the look of a hunter interrupted. His eyes were dark, devoid of anything human, searching mine for a weakness he already knew was there.

He didn't answer me. He turned back to the man instead.

The intruder wheezed, his eyes rolling back into his head, focused on nothing. His boots scraped the floor again, smearing more of his life across my hardwood. I found myself staring at his shoelace. It was untied. A small, domestic detail that made the murder feel so much more real.

"What are you doing?" My voice was thin, trembling.

Kade’s grip shifted. Just a fraction. The intruder gasped—a jagged, broken sound of pure agony.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Kade said.

His voice was calm. Too calm. It filled my small apartment, heavy and suffocating, leaving no room for me to breathe. This wasn't a rescue. This was an execution.

“They sent you,” Kade added, leaning closer to the dying man. It wasn't a question. It was a verdict.

Kade’s fingers tightened. I heard a faint, sickening pop. The man’s body jerked once, then went limp.

“Kade, stop!” I screamed, finally finding my voice.

He didn't look at me. He didn't acknowledge that I even existed in this space. I was just the witness to his violence, a ghost in my own home.

The intruder’s hands fell away. His legs stopped moving. The silence that followed was worse than the screaming. It was a silence that carried the weight of a soul leaving the room.

Kade held him for a second longer, confirming the absence of life with the cold precision of a mortician. Then, he let go.

The body dropped. Thud.

The sound vibrated through the floorboards and up into my bones. My stomach lurched, and I stepped back, my heel catching on the edge of the rug. I nearly went down, my hands scrambling for the wall, fingers slipping against the paint.

"You killed him," I choked out. "In my house... you killed him."

Kade didn't respond. He crouched beside the corpse, checking the man’s pockets with a routine efficiency that made my skin crawl. He wasn't bothered by the blood on his knuckles. He wasn't bothered by the dead eyes staring at the ceiling.

“How can you just do that?” My voice cracked, tears hot and stinging in my eyes. “How can you just stand there?”

He stood up, his gaze finally snapping to mine. He didn't apologize. He didn't offer a hand. He just watched the way I was shaking, his eyes tracking the frantic beat of the pulse in my neck.

"I'm fine," he said.

I hadn't asked. I didn't care. But the fact that he thought his safety was my concern made me feel sick.

"I didn't ask if you were fine! You brought this here! You brought him!" I was hysterical now, the fear turning into a desperate, useless rage.

"They know where you are now," he said, cutting through my words like a blade.

My heart stopped. "What?"

"They know," he repeated, stepping over the body as if it were nothing more than a piece of discarded furniture. "And they'll send more. Every night. Every hour. Until there's nothing left of this place."

He stepped closer. Not fast, but with that steady, predatory gait that made my back hit the wall before I realized I was moving. He was inches away now, the scent of rain and copper blood radiating from him.

His presence was a cage. I was trapped between the cold wall and the heat of a man who had just taken a life without blinking.

"Lock your doors, Sophia," he whispered, his voice dropping to that dark, commanding register that made my knees weak despite my terror.

"I... I always do," I stammered, my face burning under his gaze.

"Not well enough." His eyes moved past me to the door, mapping out the weaknesses of my sanctuary, claiming it. "From now on, you don't breathe unless I say so. You don't open this door unless it's for me."

"You don't own me, Kade," I said, but the words felt hollow, a lie we both recognized.

His lips curved into a small, cruel smile. He reached out, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. His skin was stained with the intruder's blood, and now, so was mine.

"Don't I?" he asked softly. "Who else is going to wash this blood off your floor? Who else is going to stop the next one from cutting your throat while you sleep?"

I stared at him, my mind racing, looking for a way out. But there were no exits. My apartment was a crime scene, my life was a target, and the only man who could "save" me was the devil himself.

"I'll be outside," Kade said, breaking the silence. He didn't ask for permission. He didn't offer a choice.

He stepped toward the broken window, pausing to look back at me one last time. "Lock the door, Sophia. Now."

I watched him disappear into the night, leaving me alone with a corpse and the smell of death. My hands shook as I walked to the door. My fingers fumbled with the deadbolt, the metal clicking into place with a sound that felt less like protection and more like a prison cell closing.

I leaned my forehead against the wood, a sob breaking from my chest. I hated him. I hated him for what he was, and I hated him for making me need him.

But I stayed there. I stayed right where he told me to.

Because I knew he was right. Because the world outside was full of monsters, but the one outside my door was the only one who wanted to keep me alive.

Even if it meant he had to destroy me first.