Daring Devlin

by Jessica Lemmon

  “Not exactly, but he didn’t sound like he hated you.”

  I rubbed my eyebrow with my fingers, feeling a headache coming on. “Let’s go talk to your manager. I need a job.”

  That’s why I was here, I reminded myself. Gainful employment. My mother had paid my rent for the month. I wasn’t going to let her do that again.

  “Are you excited?” Tasha looped both her arms around one of mine and walked with me through the store. Soon, her physical therapy internship would start and she’d be working in her field instead of here. Her manager asked if she knew anyone who could fill her shoes. As it turns out, Tasha and I had the same size feet. I filled Tasha’s shoes nicely.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I told my best friend.

  “It’s going to be great,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure anything could reach the echelon of “great” for me again, but a girl could hope.

  Devlin

  I picked up the tray from Cade’s unmade bed where he lounged. He ignored me, playing Call of Duty.

  I put the tray down on his nightstand, sat on the corner of the bed, and watched the flashing screen awhile. Then I said, “I did the right thing.”

  He ignored me some more. I knew because he wasn’t wearing his headphones.

  “Should you ever decide to open your mouth when Tasha’s around, if you’d let her know that what I did, I did for Rena, I’d appreciate it.”

  He grunted. Out of disagreement, I guessed, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a grunt of disinterest.

  “She’s better off without me,” I said to the screen.

  Another grunt, only this one sounded more agreeable. I hated when he was right.

  “I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be sucked into the Sonny Laurence cesspool,” I continued, defending myself. But then I hadn’t been sucked in. I’d avoided the swirling waters altogether. I’d visited Sonny in jail last weekend. He’d looked good. Told me he was good, and that the sentence he was serving was a fraction of what he’d deserved. If he hadn’t given up Tex, he’d have been fucked.

  He then told me he was proud of me for not ratting. Which was confusing.

  “But you ratted,” I’d pointed out. And the man did not look great in orange.

  “Older you get, less that stuff matters,” he’d told me. “I have no family, Devlin. No one to protect. Closest thing I had for the longest time was you. If I had a son, I’d take the hit for him. Not the other way around. Not the way Cade tried to do it.”

  Sonny had let Paul off the hook for his debts. And, as I’d suspected, he’d paid the hospital bill for Cade, too.

  “I held you responsible for your father’s debt,” he’d said, his weary face creasing with shame. “I shouldn’t have. By the time years got away from us, I liked having you around. You were good at collecting. You remember goddamn everything. Computer in your brain, kid.”

  I’d felt an odd wave of pride.

  “I liked taking care of you. Teaching you the ropes at Oak & Sage. You do good over there. You’re ten times the man your father was, and he was older than you are now when he opened the place.”

  My chest had constricted. In many ways, Sonny had been like a father to me over the years.

  “You and your girl have a shot at a good life. Figured if I took my hooks outta you, that’d clear a path.”

  It had… and it hadn’t. Gamblers had trickled in over the past few weeks, but I’d turned them away, explaining how Sonny went down. The dining room had taken a hit, but business would pick back up… I hoped. My dream of running Oak & Sage with Rena wasn’t a possibility since I hadn’t attempted to repair things with her since the night I fired her.

  Her echoed and unreturned “I love you” rang in my ears. I’d spent the better part of the last four weeks aching in a way I hadn’t known was possible.

  That day I visited Sonny, he noted my less-than-chipper outlook and asked about her. I lied and said she was good. Then I changed the subject to ask about his affairs. He told me Nat had taken over managing the pizzeria and the apartment building. Sonny assured me both were in good hands and not to worry. I hated that he was locked up. Hated how he’d sacrificed himself. I asked him if we could hire a better lawyer, figure out a way to spring him, but he’d only shaken his head.

  “I had a good run, kid.” He’d patted my hand with his rougher one. “A few years of relaxing in here ain’t so bad. Few years in here, I’ll be out. I got a nice place in the Caribbean.”

  I hadn’t been able to tell if he was joking or not.

  “What can I do?” I’d asked, but I knew the answer.

  “Live,” he’d said, then with a craggy smile, added, “Gimme grandchildren.”

  Grandchildren. My thoughts had returned to Rena, my heart as raw as tenderized steak. I hadn’t healed. Not even a little.

  Sonny had asked about Cade next. I’d brought him up to date and let him know Cade had gained mobility and was able to eat and flip me off without any trouble whatsoever.

  I stepped in between Cade and the TV screen now, forcing him to pay attention to me. He leaned to look past me and kept playing. I stepped in his way again.

  Nostrils flaring, he glared up at me. He was pissed. I understood it. I did. But I was older and having been on my own put me in the unique position of being the mature one. Go figure.

  The standoff would have lasted twenty minutes or more if the doorbell hadn’t rung.

  “Dammit,” I muttered.

  Cade smiled.

  “This isn’t over,” I told him. Antagonizing him into speaking was my only tactic. The jerk had been mute for four days. He’d spoken some before that, but then mysteriously clammed up again. The last therapist Cade ran off warned if he didn’t speak, and soon, he could lose the ability permanently.

  I could let the bastard fall apart, but guilt the size of Mothman had eaten holes in my soul. I didn’t recall having this much empathy before now.

  Rena’s fault.

  A chunk of me felt guilty for not following Sonny into the slammer, even though he’d insisted it served no one if I served time alongside him. I suppose he was right. I was free to run Oak & Sage. I employed a staff who needed their paychecks. And, I was able to take care of my pain-in-the-ass half brother whether he wanted me to or not.

  The doorbell chimed twice more by the time I’d arrived at the entryway.

  “Yeah, I’m coming!” I called as I yanked the door open.

  Rena’s friend Tasha stood at the threshold, a messenger bag crossed over her chest, her blond hair in a ponytail. She raised an eyebrow and gave me a peeved look much like her patient had a minute ago.

  I stepped aside and she breezed past me, not speaking. Tasha wasn’t a very big fan of mine. I understood why, sort of. I thought she’d cut me some slack since I’d had the balls to walk away from Rena for her own good. But her loyalty was to Rena, no matter what. Honestly, I was glad Rena had a good friend.

  I sure as hell didn’t.

  I finished cleaning the kitchen from the lunch I’d made for Cade and me. Paul was at work—he’d been rehired by his former employer. He’d also been going to Gambler’s Anonymous meetings. Far as I knew, with Tex out of town and his goon squad dismantled, Paul was back to living a boring, mundane life.

  Finished loading the dishwasher, I flipped off the lights in the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time to my old room. It’d been an adjustment living here again. Sleeping in the same twin bed, stuffing my clothes into the same dinged-up five-drawer dresser with the Mason jar of pennies on top. I changed into my suit for Oak & Sage and was pulling a tie around my neck when Tasha knocked, and then let herself in.

  I started to tell her the knock was moot if she was going to let herself in anyway, but the angry slant of her fair brows kept me from it.

  “I agree with Cade.” She crossed her arms over her breasts.

  My fingers paused on the knot of my tie. “About?”

  “You’re a chickenshit.”

 
I blinked, unaccustomed to being accused of being a chickenshit, and unsure how to react, since I couldn’t pummel the person who’d just said it to me.

  “Cade said I was a chickenshit,” I stated flatly.

  “More than once.”

  Okay. Cade’s ass, I could kick. “Cade is talking?”

  “A little.” Her expression hardened. “Do you think you did Rena a favor by firing her? By breaking up with her?”

  A wave of guilt crested, but I tamped it down. Tasha was mad because Rena was upset. That’s it. I focused on my reflection and tied my tie.

  “Is that really what you want? Do you think that’s what she wants?”

  “Doesn’t matter what she wants,” I said.

  “Because you know what’s best.”

  I adjusted the knot at my throat.

  “Have you slept with anyone since you two broke up?”

  “You can go now.” I pulled my jacket over my arms. Fuck, no, I hadn’t slept with anyone since Rena. Like I’d just move on? Forget what she meant to me? Forget the things she’d said to me?

  “It seems like you, that’s all,” Tasha continued. “To burn that bridge to ash. You really are a chickenshit.”

  “I don’t let anyone talk to me the way you’re talking to me, Tasha. Watch it.” It was an empty threat and she knew it.

  “I don’t let guys treat my best friend like garbage,” she snapped. “Go to her, Devlin. You go to her and take one look at her and tell me if you’re doing her any favors by staying away. And when you see her and realize she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you in your entire miserable existence, drop to your knees and beg her to take you back.”

  “She wouldn’t let me in if I showed.” I’d thought about it. Over and over and over and over. If I went to her and she shut me out, I worried I’d dry up and blow away. Or that the feelings I’d been trying to smother would surface, and in turn smother me.

  “How can you be sure if you haven’t tried?” And with that parting blow, she left.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rena

  I waved goodbye to my former-boss-current-coworker Lyle and walked to my car. Shivering as I turned over the engine, I rubbed my gloved hands together in a futile attempt to warm them. Snow fell, the night sky quiet. The fluorescent lights inside Sarafina’s glowed warmly through the windows.

  The pace at Sarafina’s was like being thrown into slow motion after being on fast forward. No longer was I dashing around balancing trays of hot food on my shoulder or yelling for a side of mayo from the kitchen. Or making out with Devlin in the cramped and overstocked office…

  Sigh.

  I’d been trying to convince myself I didn’t miss that last part. It’d been sort of working. I used to think of him and ache. Now thinking of him made me angry. That was progress, right?

  Since Tasha was working with Cade three days a week now, I’d made her promise not to mention Devlin’s name. I knew too much about him already, and hearing daily updates wasn’t going to help me get over him any faster. And I needed to get over him.

  If I meant anything to him at all, he’d have come for me by now.

  At home, I showered for an eternity, until my body was no longer chilled and my limbs were overheated and loose. I dried off, wiped down the steamy mirror with a towel, and then pulled on a thick robe.

  I hadn’t decided what to do now that my nights were free. I’d spent half my nights working second shift at Oak & Sage, and Devlin had filled the other half. That was probably why I felt like half of me was missing.

  Idly sketching in my notebook, candle lit, I thought about the night he’d come to my door. Then I thought of the last time I’d seen him. I pictured the straight line of his mouth, his firmly set jaw. But his eyes—his eyes had been sad. It’d be easier to believe he hated me. But I suspected Tasha was right and he was protecting me. He’d wanted to keep me away from his gambling business as well as Baron. Devlin promising Roy he’d stay away from me was his only way of ensuring both of those things.

  But now I was safe and he still hadn’t called. He’d moved out of his apartment and in with Paul. Baron was no longer scouting the parking lot at Oak & Sage, but I refused to go there to try and convince Devlin I was worth fighting for.

  I gave the drawing on my lap a forlorn glance and tossed my pad and pencil next to the flickering jar candle on my coffee table. I’d drawn a series of squiggles and shapes. My creativity wasn’t what it used to be.

  Bone tired, I curled up on the couch and pulled a blanket over me, and turned on the TV.

  A knock yanked me out of sleep. I blinked at the TV, volume so low I had to read Joey’s lips on Friends saying, “How you doin’?”

  I sat up and the knock came again. I leaned forward and blew out the liquefied jar candle, worrying at how careless I’d been to sleep with it lit. I shooed away a curl of smoke as I walked for the door. Through the parted blinds I blinked at the mirage. A dark figure stood on my doorstep wearing a black leather coat. His inky hair fell over his face, one arm leaning on my doorframe.

  Déjà vu.

  I pulled open the door and saw that Devlin wasn’t a mirage. He stood, solid and very real, on my doorstep. He raised his head, those beautiful eyes locking onto me. The snow had stopped, but a bitter wind cut past him and blew into my apartment, bringing his tantalizing scent with it.

  No blood or split lip this time. That night felt like it’d happened years ago.

  “Hey.” He straightened from his lean.

  “Hey.” I was trying to decide if I was pissed or not. I should be. He’d rejected me, ignored me. Other than him asking my best friend if she was driving my car, I wondered if I’d even crossed his mind lately.

  Meanwhile, I’d been suffering. I’d fallen in love and falling out was proving challenging. More so, with the moon outlining his silhouette.

  “You moved,” I said, bracing against another gust of frigid wind. “Some guy who was painting the walls told me.”

  Devlin should have been the one to tell me. He could have called. He could have come over. He should have come for me, dammit. I was worth it.

  He stared me down for a moment before he said, “Tasha and I have a bet.”

  “I thought you didn’t bet.”

  “She says you’re better off with me, and I say you’re better off without me. I figured you’re the only one who can settle it.” His dark eyebrows jumped. “First time in my life I’ve ever hoped to lose a bet.”

  What… was I supposed to say to that? When I opened my mouth, a confession fell out. “I don’t need you.”

  After all, I’d proven I could survive without him. I’d been breathing in and out, going to work, feeding myself. All my basic survival skills were intact. It wasn’t much of a life but what choice had he left me?

  “I’m actually—I’m… fine,” I said, not feeling fine at all. But I was strong. And I wanted him to know that his leaving hadn’t broken me.

  “Good. That’s good. Neediness is… it’s debilitating.” His eyes traveled over my face. “Believe me. I know.”

  My heart hammered as hope rose like a helium balloon was inflated inside my chest.

  “I haven’t needed anyone in a really long time,” he continued. “It’s a lot like desperation, that feeling. I don’t like it.”

  That made two of us. I’d been positively weakened by him and look at me now.

  “But I need you.” He held my gaze for a drawn-out moment while my heart continued thrashing against my ribs. “More importantly, I want you. So bad I can taste it. So, maybe, even if you don’t need me…” He blew out a breath that sounded unsteady, and then finished that sentence in a very unexpected way. “Fuck, I’m freezing my balls off out here. May I?”

  “Of course. Sure.” I stepped aside and let him in. Then I shut the door, and we were standing in my living room. Together. Just the two of us in my cozy apartment, the faded fragrance of vanilla and smoke lingering in the air from the candle.

&
nbsp; He opened his mouth but I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear what he was going to say. I’d decided to get over him; had been trying my damnedest to get over him. And then he shows up on my doorstep saying he needs me?

  “Can I get you a beer? I need a beer.” I pulled the knot on my robe tighter and shuffled into the kitchen in my socks. I’d almost made it to the kitchen when his arm lashed around my front. He tugged me back against his solid chest and set his lips to my ear.

  “Rena, baby.”

  I shivered. My knees turned to jelly. His touch was oh-so welcome.

  “I know you’re mad,” he breathed into my ear. “And I know I deserve it. But you have to know, deep in your gut”—his hand splayed across my torso just under my breasts—“that I only pushed you away to keep you safe. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

  “Yeah, and how would I know that? It’s not like you told me.”

  A deep sigh came from behind me, his chilly cheek resting on mine. “I know. That shit’s hard for me. I think Cade’s right and I am a chickenshit, after all.” Another sigh. His arm squeezed me gently. “I left Sonny, the business, because I imagined a life with you I’ve never imagined with anyone. Oak & Sage belonged to my parents. Their life wasn’t all bad. They had good times.”

  I felt him smile against my cheek and though I shouldn’t, couldn’t help from lifting my hand and placing it over his. He gave me another soft squeeze and continued talking in that same rough, low tone.

  “You made me want a different life. You made me crave a different life. I never thought I deserved better than I had. I counted myself lucky. Turned out I didn’t know what lucky was until you stood outside that elevator at the hospital and told me you loved me. Every day since I have thought of that moment. Of what it took for you to be that brave. Of how strong you were. Of how wrong I was. I had no right to pull you into my shit. The thought of dragging you down with me, of you hating me someday was too much to bear.”