Daring Devlin

by Jessica Lemmon

  I had to think about that. As much as I wanted a chance to find out who I could be without him, I also hated to leave. He was what I knew. This life was what I knew. What I was good at.

  “You want free of this shit, Dev?”

  I did. At least a shot at being free. I shook my head, unable to give voice to my thought. Why was this so hard?

  “You should.” Sonny took a gander around his tiny pizza place. Clattering came from the kitchen. The soda machine pumped as a customer refilled his cup.

  “I… I want to try to make it. On my own. Live the kind of life…” I thought of my father. My mother. The faded photos in the album holding dreams never realized. I wanted to live the kind of the life I could be proud of. The kind of life that would allow room for Rena. And more. At the idea of more, my hand wrapped round the napkin began to shake. So I changed the subject. “The apartment,” I told him. “I’ll move.”

  “Your call, kid.”

  “I’ll return the SUV.”

  “Keep it.” He waved a hand.

  I’d negotiated the SUV as payment when a bettor didn’t have the cash, but it didn’t feel like it was mine. “Son—”

  “Kid. Keep it.” He pushed a hand into the table and stood, taking his mug with him when he went. Without turning, he called over his shoulder, “Keep the phone, too.”

  Six years being Sonny’s guy and he was letting me go. Granted, I’d offered to leave, but part of me… the part repeatedly damaged by abandonment, felt the sting of that cut. At the front door, I ventured a glance over my shoulder. Donna was wiping down the red plastic dine-in trays, Sonny nowhere to be seen.

  He’d cut me loose.

  I dropped the phone in my pocket. My parting gift.

  Not gonna lie, it bothered me that he’d accepted my resignation so easily.

  Rena

  I showed up at Devlin’s place after work. We didn’t make it to the bed.

  “Your kitchen floor is surprisingly clean,” I said, admiring the virtually spotless slate tiles. I shivered. “But cold.”

  Devlin was on his back next to me, stark naked and mouthwateringly beautiful, light shining down on his contoured chest in a series of shadows and highlights. His eyes focused overhead. One hand rested on his chest. He’d been quiet tonight. When I arrived and noticed his sullen attitude, I launched into a story from work. He didn’t let me finish, grabbing me up and kissing me brainless. Things had sort of gotten out of hand from there. I had no idea where he’d tossed my bra.

  I propped my head on my hand and looked at him.

  “What?” He smiled. It was good to see him smile.

  “Nothing. I’m just looking at you.”

  “Tell me.”

  My turn to smile… and ask him the question I’d been wondering since the infamous night in my hallway. “Do you think we’ll ever have sex in a bed?”

  A low chuckle bobbed his throat. His openness expanded my heart… and made me remember Tasha’s warning. Melinda’s warning. Guys like Devlin weren’t keepers. He’s dangerous. But even as the thought came, I shut it down. He wasn’t dangerous. What he did for a living had its risks, but he’d been doing it for a long time. Obviously, he was good at staying safe.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” His blue eyes glittered. “Stay the night and we’ll do it in the bed.”

  I had peeked into his bedroom the last time I was here. Huge black iron bed with dark blankets, mahogany furniture. The room had smelled like him—not like cloying cologne or body spray, but a faint essence of spice, maybe from his soap or deodorant. It was the way he smelled now. I loved it.

  I pictured us sprawled out on his black bedding, waking up next to him in the morning. I wanted the very thing I shouldn’t let myself want.

  Him. For good. Forever.

  I wasn’t ready for forever. The sex had been light and fun before, but tonight, even on the kitchen floor, felt… intimate.

  I reached over and traced the number seven tattooed on his triceps. “What’s it mean?”

  His eyes went to mine, but he didn’t answer.

  “Lucky number?” I guessed.

  “Was that night.” He watched me as if deciding whether or not to share. I wondered if tonight had felt intimate for him, too. “Dad took me with him to bet on the ponies sometimes. I watched every race, remembered every winner. When he realized I had a knack for remembering details about the horses—which were winners, which were favored—he started asking for my advice. I was ten years old the day we won big. The horse’s name was Lucky in Love.”

  “Number seven?” I guessed.

  “Number seven.”

  “It’s a nice tattoo.” The 7 was an artistic font with big, balloon-shaped ends, shaded dark, and spanning the underside of his upper arm.

  He gave me a sweet kiss I felt down to my freezing toes. I was suddenly nervous. I shifted away from him, intending to make my escape. I needed distance myself so I could think clearly. I couldn’t do that lying naked next to him.

  “I told Tasha I’d meet her for a thing tonight,” I said, sitting up and reaching for my shoe.

  “What thing?”

  I looked around for my other shoe, but didn’t see it. “Some street-race thing. I don’t know.”

  He sat up and met my eyes, his brow furrowed. “Street-race thing?”

  “Did you want to go?” I asked, taking his attention for interest.

  Before he could answer, his phone rang. He reached for his phone on the counter, flexing all that round muscle under all that smooth skin. Yum.

  “Paul,” he said instead of hello. His brows scrunched. “When?”

  Silence. Further scrunching.

  “Where?” He stuffed his legs into his jeans, the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder. “On my way.”

  I stood and pulled on my own jeans, worried at his tone. “Devlin?”

  “Cade wrecked his car.” He bent and grabbed my bra, offering it to me.

  “Is he okay?” I asked numbly.

  “It’s bad.”

  My racing heart skidded to a halt. Memories of the night I was in the car wreck with Joshua flooded over me. The ear-piercing crunch of metal followed by eerie silence. The inability to pull in a full breath because my seatbelt was so tight on my chest.

  I clasped my bra while staring at the floor. I managed to pull on my tank top, but when I wrestled with my inside-out long-sleeved shirt, I burst into tears.

  Devlin took the shirt from my hands and pulled it over my head. I threaded my arms through the sleeves and sniffled, my face wet with tears. He sat on a chair at the kitchen table and pulled me onto his lap. He brushed the tears from my cheeks and pushed my hair to one side.

  “Rena,” he whispered. Softly. Gently.

  His face went wonky as tears pooled in my eyes again. He palmed my head, offered an even more gentle, “C’mere,” and I rested my cheek against his shoulder.

  “He’s alive.” His voice was gruff but tender.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice yet.

  “I’ll drop you at home.”

  “I’m going.”

  “Baby.”

  I lifted my head and met his beautiful blue eyes. “I want to.”

  He frowned, but then let out a sigh of acceptance. “Call Tasha. She’s at the hospital and probably needs to hear from a friend.”

  “At the hospital?” I blinked. “But she and Cade hate each other.”

  “They don’t,” he said with a small smile.

  “I’m pretty sure they do.”

  “Pretty sure they don’t, sweetheart.” He tweaked my chin. I liked sitting on his lap, him calling me sweetheart. It was a shame we had to leave. “Call her.”

  I slid off his lap.

  “Your shoe’s in the sink, by the way.”

  “Seriously?”

  “We’re wild, baby.” This earned me a full-fledged smile. A blinding flash of white against tanned skin. I took in his disheveled hair and crinkled blue eyes and smiled back. He swatt
ed my ass as I crossed the kitchen.

  Those words hooked into me and didn’t let go.

  We’re wild, baby.

  After years of reining myself in, being good, behaving myself, I was once again wild. Proving that, with Devlin, I was more myself than ever.

  After spending years being as dry as toast, I liked that I was once again wild. Becoming more of myself. With that thought glowing warmly in the center of my chest, I dug my phone out of my purse and called Tasha.

  Devlin

  Mercy Glen’s waiting room was both dark and dead. I watched Rena closely as we rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. For a girl who’d watched her boyfriend die in a car accident, she was relatively calm about coming to the hospital to visit a guy who’d been in a car accident.

  Then those dark eyes found mine and I noticed fear in their depths. I kissed her. Just a brief peck to communicate I’d do anything to keep her safe. Including walking away from the bookie who’d been like a father to me.

  We stepped off the elevator and spotted Sonny, of all people, in the waiting room. A magazine rested on his lap and his hand was wrapped around a steaming Styrofoam cup. Coffee. I’d rarely seen him without one. He looked up when I walked in. I gave him a look that asked, What the hell?

  A blonde paced the floor. She wore shiny brown boots with tall socks sticking out of the tops, and a patterned red dress. Everything from her outfit, her hair, and her makeup screamed privilege. Tasha.

  Her face melted when she spotted us. Rena dropped my hand and ran to her friend, hugging her close. When she pulled away, Tasha brushed my girl’s hair away from her face like I had earlier. “Reen, are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.” Her eyes sought mine, and her gratitude hit me square in the solar plexus. I suddenly felt certain. After years of bobbing untethered, it was damn nice to feel certain.

  Sonny abandoned his magazine but held fast to his coffee. I took a generous step away from the girls to speak with him.

  “Paul’s in the room,” he said. “Cade isn’t going to have to have surgery.”

  “Okay.” That sounded good. Maybe he wasn’t as hurt as we’d thought. “Why are you here?” I couldn’t imagine a scenario where Paul would have called him.

  Rather than answer, he gestured for me to follow him. At the nurse’s station he introduced me. “This is Caden Wilson’s brother, Devlin.”

  Well, Sonny was informed, wasn’t he? The nurse gave me a once-over followed by an almost reluctant smile. “You can go in.”

  My stomach went tight. I hated hospitals. The tubes and hissing machines. The thought of Cade mummified in bandages. But this wasn’t about me. It was a shift I hadn’t realized I’d made until now. Rena, I realized. She’d been the one who’d changed me; made me think of someone other than myself.

  “Room four-fourteen,” Sonny told me.

  Over his shoulder, Rena watched me. Tasha’s arm was looped in hers. She was okay, which was the most important thing to me. Someone else as my priority was also new. I liked it.

  I turned down the corridor, having no idea what I’d find in room 414. What I found was Paul standing over his son, arms crossed over his chest.

  Cade wasn’t mummified, but he was bandaged in several places—his head, his arm. On one foot, and there were tubes sticking out of his nose. I mirrored Paul’s stance, tightening my arms over my chest. Small cuts, likely from the glass windshield breaking, dotted Cade’s cheek. His eyes were closed, the machine monitoring his heart beeping at steady intervals. Seeing him lying there, unconscious, hurt, helpless, and wearing a thin pale blue hospital gown turned my stomach.

  “You gave him Sonny’s number,” Paul rumbled, sounding none too happy.

  I had. So that Cade could pay Paul’s debts.

  “Sonny had a lot of cash riding on the race,” Paul informed me.

  What did the race have to do with Sonny?

  “They say it was black ice.” He was looking at his son again, looking through him. “I say this is your fault.”

  The puzzle pieces slid together slowly. Sonny. The street race. Cade. Paul’s debt.

  Cade had street raced before. He was good. His car was built to win. If he didn’t have the cash to pay his father’s debts, he could have won it street racing. He would’ve bet on himself. Had that been the way he planned to pay off Sonny?

  This wasn’t my fault. It was Sonny’s. He was here, knew about the accident, because he’d been at that race.

  “Son of a bitch.” I headed for the door, down the hallway, and into the waiting room. I was going to shake Sonny Laurence until his teeth rattled. What the fuck had he done?

  He was lounging in a waiting-room chair. I stalked over to him, seething, my fists curled at my sides.

  “You set up the street race,” I said, my voice bow-tight with anger.

  “I did.” Sonny didn’t straighten out of his relaxed posture—legs out and crossed at the ankles—which pissed me off further. I didn’t know it was possible to literally see red until the color slashed across my field of vision.

  “I swear to—” I lunged but was stopped by two very large, very dark brown hands on my upper arms.

  A look over my shoulder at Nat, his face a pudgy still-life. His voice was even when he spoke. “Easy.”

  I shook out of his meaty grip, but continued standing over Sonny. “You what, wanted him to bet on himself to pay Paul’s debt?”

  “Devlin?” Rena appeared off to my left, her voice soft but worried.

  I held out a hand for her to give me a minute. I wasn’t done with Sonny. “He came to pay you and you took advantage of him.”

  He stayed silent. Nat folded his massive arms over an even more massive chest, his face blank.

  “Does the money mean that much to you?” I leaned closer to Sonny and a shadow fell over the floor as Nat advanced on me. Before I wound up in a hospital bed next to Cade, Paul appeared, a nurse chasing behind him.

  “Her.” Paul pointed to Tasha.

  Tasha’s wide blue eyes blinked. “Me?”

  Paul turned to the nurse. “They’re telling me some garbage about his speech. Something about motor delays.” His voice cracked on the word. His eyes went to Tasha. “You said you were a nurse.”

  “Physical therapist.” Tasha glanced at Rena. “I was trying to comfort him before he went in to see Cade.”

  “Immediate family only,” the nurse argued from behind Paul.

  “If you do not let her in—” Paul started, his face going flame red.

  “She’s Cade’s fiancée,” Sonny interrupted. He stood and smiled at the nurse. “Surely you can let her in since the wedding is in a few weeks. Bend the rules a little.”

  Tasha was as surprised to hear this as the nurse, but pulled herself together quickly. “It’s only fair that I hear about Cade’s condition.”

  The nurse didn’t believe a word of it. But judging by her frazzled brown hair and tired eyes, she was out of fight.

  “She’s very good at what she does.” Rena’s loyal defense of her friend made me proud. I put a proprietary hand on her hip and pulled her flush against me.

  The nurse shook her head at the gaggle of people clogging the waiting room, all of us here for Cade. “I suggest those of you who don’t need to be here leave immediately.” She shot an icy glare at me, then Tasha. “Come with me, future Mrs. Wilson.”

  The nurse huffed off, Paul and Tasha in her wake. Sonny offered an outstretched hand to my girl.

  “I’m Sonny.”

  “Don’t talk to her,” I warned.

  “You’re the reason he’s walking away,” he told her. “You keep him away, you hear me? Guys like us need a good woman.”

  “Sorry?” she asked, confused.

  I hadn’t told her I’d quit. Not yet.

  “Figured it was because of a woman,” he told me.

  “Stay away from her. And Tasha.” I turned to leave, but tacked on, “And Cade and Paul.”

  “It was Tex,” Sonny said to m
y back.

  I turned around. Slowly.

  “Cade came to me to pay Paul’s debt. I said no. I’ve made enough sons pay for their fathers’ sins,” he added quietly.

  Rena’s arms wrapped around my waist, her soft hug comforting.

  “On his way out of my pizza place,” Sonny continued, “Cade mentioned he was going to try and make a deal with Tex. Tex would have skinned him alive. Tex knew Cade’s reputation for winning. What he didn’t know was that I’d backed Cade to throw the race. Once Cade had the cash, he could pay Tex off. Every dime Paul was in deep with. Every dime you tried to help Paul win.”

  Sonny knew, I thought as chills streaked down my spine. He knew I’d ripped him off.

  “I did it to help Cade.” Sonny pressed his lips together. “I’m too old to go down for murdering a rival bookie. I thought money would solve the problem for Cade and Paul. I figure you did what you did to help them out, too.”

  I had.

  “Proud of you,” he said.

  I… didn’t know what to do with that. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment and my arms grew stiff. Rena must have noticed, she consoled me with another squeeze.

  “At the end of the race, Cade tapped the brakes at the corner. He skidded out. Swear to God, kid, I never meant for him to get hurt. I called Paul. Paul told me about your relation to Cade. That’s a blessing.”

  I hadn’t thought that when the news was fresh, but since he was my only family—especially now that Sonny had cut me loose, I figured Sonny had a point. And I believed what he said. The man might be a thief, but he was an honorable one.

  He dipped his chin at Rena. “You be good to my boy, yeah?”

  In the elevator, she came to me and I folded her against my chest and rested my chin on her head. It felt good to have her there. She was good for me.

  I thought about what Sonny had done for Cade. Letting him earn the money so he didn’t feel like a degenerate shit. How he sat now in the waiting room watching over the kid he’d put in life-threatening danger. He’d pay the hospital bill, too, knowing him.

  Then I thought of Paul and hoped this situation would turn him around. If not, Cade’s sacrifice—and we didn’t know how big of one it was yet—had been for nothing.