Maybe he was just being a coward.
Lydia was the one who said she forgave him for everything that happened in the past, so what made him hesitate meeting up with her?
Entering the local bookstore, Bookleberry Finn’s, he soon remembered.
Her big scary husband stood near the counter and though he smiled in greeting, his eyes promised bodily harm if Devin took one step out of line.
And who could blame him if he did?
I made his wife’s life hell, he thought as he smiled nervously, swallowing his nerves back into place. God, this was a bad idea.
Thankfully Lydia was there, too, smiling brightly, as if she’d suddenly forgotten he was responsible for her dark childhood.
I was the little punk ass who beat up girls. I don’t deserve that smile.
“Hi, Devin! I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up or not,” she said, immediately approaching him and reaching a hand out. “You’re looking better. I see the bruises healed up. I’m sorry about that.”
“Hey. Yeah, it’s okay,” he replied, pushing away the memories of Jebson’s merciless beat down. I deserved it. Shaking her hand as delicately as he could, he tried to be extra kind to her. Plus, her husband was watching him like a hawk. “I really haven’t been exploring town very much. It took a few minutes to figure out where I was going.”
That wasn’t a complete lie. Prairie Town was still a learning process for him. He’d gotten lost a few times, though he’d never admit it.
“Gosh, that has to suck. But you’re here now, so let’s talk.” She smiled and nodded towards the back of the store. “We can sit in the office if you like. It’ll probably be less chaotic.”
“It doesn’t seem so chaotic out here.” He glanced nervously at her husband. “Are you sure you want to be in a room with me?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure.” She blinked. “I mean, unless you plan on beating me up or something.”
“No.” His eyes widened. “God, no. I-I-I wouldn’t do that. Not ever.”
“Relax, Devin,”—her hand touched his arm and she laughed—“I’m just messing with you. Come on.”
Reluctantly, he followed her down an aisle of books and through a door, entering a small room with bright pink walls. Whoever the place belonged to, they must have really liked pink.
“Have a seat,” she instructed, hopping up on a stool and crossing one long leg over the other. Her glossed lips curved into another smile as she flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder. “I promise no one is going to hurt you.”
I deserve to be hurt, he thought solemnly. How was I ever cruel to such a lovely creature?
Easing down into the office chair and glancing around the room, he tried to pretend he wasn’t as nervous as he felt. Even though he desperately wanted answers about his childhood and the boy he’d befriended, he wasn’t sure coming to Lydia was the best idea.
Why the hell would she help him anyway?
“So....” She started after a full minute of painfully, awkward silence. “You wanted to ask me something about grade school?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding. “I had hoped Kelly could help me, but she said she was homeschooled. She said you’d be my best bet.”
“Gosh, I don’t remember too much from back then, but I’ll do my best. What do you want to know?”
Why did I hurt you? He wanted to ask.
Who else did I hurt? His stomach churned.
“My mom came to see me the other day and she mentioned a friend I had when I was little. We were close, apparently. I was, uh, hoping maybe you might remember him.”
Lydia’s eyebrows pinched together and she gazed at nothing in particular as she thought it over.
“Hmm,” she mumbled, frowning. “Can you be a little more specific? You were always pretty popular, even in elementary school. You had a lot of friends.”
Fake friends, maybe, his jawline tightened and relaxed. None of them were true friends to me.
And he knew that to be the truth because he’d also been informed he intimated people into hanging out with him. He was ‘that guy’. The guy everyone preferred hanging out with rather than getting punched in the stomach on a daily basis.
It still bothered him that he couldn’t remember what made him into that kind of person.
It wasn’t entirely his father’s fault, was it?
“His name started with a J, I think,” he offered, hoping it would help jog her memory. “My mom’s memory isn’t as good as it used to be, or so she says. But, she said it might have been Jimmy or Johnny.”
“Johnny?” She asked, surprised. “Are you sure she said Johnny?”
“I’m not one hundred percent positive,” he admitted, sighing. “It could be one or the other, or maybe an entirely different name.” Quirking an eyebrow, he watched her squirm and that was a telltale sign that she knew something. “Do you remember a Johnny though? There was a Johnny?”
Her lips thinned and her gaze shifted to the dark pink pig figurine on the desk.
“Lydia?”
“Yes. There was a Johnny.” Her eyes remained on the pig as her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “I remember him.”
“Is that...bad?” He scooted the chair closer with his feet and tried to catch her attention. “You don’t seem too thrilled to talk about him.”
“Something like that.” Her voice became so soft he almost didn’t hear her.
“I’m sorry. Did he...”—he gulped—“Was he mean to you, too?”
“No. God no.” She finally looked at him. He was taken aback by the expression on her face. Was it sadness or anger? “Johnny was just...a lost soul. He was a lot like you are now, I suppose.”
“I’m guessing you don’t mean amnesia.”
“No, but he spent a lot of time trying to figure out who he was, where he fit in.”
“And did he ever find out?”
“Eventually.”
It probably wasn’t any of his business, but if there was a small chance Johnny was the guy he needed to find, then he needed to know what happened to him – where he could find him. As if she somehow knew what he was going to ask, Lydia held up a hand and he closed his mouth, no sooner than it opened, giving her the floor.
“You won’t find him, Devin.”
“Oh.” His heart sank. “Is he...you know?”
“Dead?” A small laugh escaped her. Uncrossing her legs and hopping down from the stool, she moved towards the filing cabinet in the corner of the room, busying herself with straightening a trophy sitting on top of it. “I suppose you could say that.”
“Oh.”
The grief that overcame him was totally unexpected and inexplicable. The mystery man he’d been hoping to reconnect with had come and gone in an instant. There was no way he’d get answers about anything, not about who he was as a child, not about the special bond they’d shared, not even the truth of how the horrible version of him came to be. It was hopeless if the guy was dead.
Wiping at the moisture in his eyes, he cleared his throat in an attempt to dislodge the painful lump suddenly stuck there.
Lydia turned around and stared at him, surprised. “Devin, are you crying?”
“Forgive me.” He sniffed and stood from his seat, shaking his head. “It’s so stupid. I don’t even know why it’s getting to me like this.”
“What’s getting to you?” She took three short strides and stood before him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Johnny?”
“Yeah. It’s stupid.” His voice cracked and he rolled his watery eyes in annoyance. “I can’t even remember the guy. I don’t know why I’m letting it bother me so much.”
“But we’re talking about Johnny, right?”
Why did that seem so impossible to believe?
“Maybe? I don’t know. This is the closest I’ve come to finding him, and I really needed to find him.” Pinching at the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “Damn.”
“Why is it so important to fin
d Johnny?”
“Because he may remember who I was before I turned bad,” he answered, fighting to keep his trembling bottom lip still. “If anybody would know, it’s him.”
“Johnny?” She repeated, her eyes darting back and forth between his. “Were you...I mean, are you certain you were close to Johnny?”
“That’s what my mom said. We were best friends. We...”—he closed his eyes and sucked in a calming breath, and then opened one eye to peer at her—“Can I tell you a secret?”
“I suppose you can.” She tilted her head to the side, waiting.
“Okay. No one else knows this aside from my parents and Johnny...”
“Do tell.” Her hands moved to her hips.
“When we were little, my dad caught us kissing and...well, he wasn’t happy about it.”
“What?” She squeaked, eyes growing as big as saucers.
“I know. Trust me, I know how unbelievable it sounds, but it’s true. And I think a part of me always knew, you know? Like, I’ve always kind of thought that maybe I liked guys. B-but I like girls, too,” he stammered. “God, don’t judge me for it. I’m not a terrible person, Lydia. I’m good. I swear I’m good. I’m just trying to figure out what made me the way I was when I got older. I never would have hurt you. It’s God-awful and I know it. Hitting girls? That’s just not me. I don’t know what made me do it. That’s what I’m trying to figure out and only Johnny could have helped me.”
“Whoa, whoa.” She held her hands up and shook her head furiously. “Wait a minute. Stop. Stop.”
Pursing his lips together, he nodded.
“You think that you and Johnny were like...sandbox boyfriends?”
“Yes. That’s what my mother said. We were really close and then my dad caught us kissing and...well, I got punished for that and Johnny went away. He moved. I never saw him again.”
“Wow.” Lydia raked her fingers through her long hair and turned away from him, exhaling loudly. “Wow, that’s just a lot to take in.”
“I know. But do you understand why it was so important to me? I can’t help but to feel maybe Johnny could have answered so many questions for me. Maybe he could even jog some memories for me. If I could just find out where he’s buried, I could—”
“No!” She whirled about and stared at him, panic seizing her beautiful features. “I mean...no, that’s impossible. There isn’t a grave or anything.”
“He was cremated?”
“No. No, it’s not like that. It’s...ugh.” She dropped her head and groaned, fingers running through her hair again as she sucked in a loud breath and stomped a foot against the floor in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m doing this...”
“What? What are you doing?” He was completely lost. Why was she acting so weird? What had he said to make her so out of sorts?
“Look, Devin,” she said, lifting her head and staring at him. “You never kissed Johnny. You weren’t even close to Johnny. Sure, you were nice to him at one time, but you were really young and whatever you think you went through – it must have been before that because you actually were a pretty nice kid in kindergarten. But, whatever you think you did with Johnny,”—she smiled sympathetically—“it didn’t happen. Not with him.”
“But how can you be so sure? Isn’t it possible we hung out after school? He came to my house sometimes. That’s what my mom said.”
“Well, your mom clearly doesn’t remember who the boy was. But I promise you it wasn’t Johnny McIntosh.”
“McIntosh?” And then it struck him like a bolt of lightning. Of course Lydia would have known Johnny. They were related! “Oh my god. Lydia, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Not a lot of people do,” she replied. “Only the people I really trust.”
“Wait, what?” He frowned. “Why would you only tell the people you trust? Doesn’t the rest of your family know? Close friends?”
“Are you kidding me? No way. It’s not something I broadcast all over town, Devin. That’s personal. It’s really personal.”
“Oh.” Sheesh. Maybe her family just took death really seriously. Or maybe it was some sort of religious thing. He suddenly felt very bad for bringing up painful memories of her lost loved one. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”
“My loss?”
“Johnny.” He nodded. “Your...cousin? Or was he your brother?”
“Oh, my god.” Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed. She laughed so hard, it only made him more confused. It didn’t help when she slapped a hand against his shoulder and snorted. “Oh, bless your heart, Devin.”
“Did I...miss something?”
“You really don’t know, do you?” She calmed down and pressed a palm over her mouth in an effort to keep from giggling again. “We’re talking about two different things here, aren’t we?”
“I’m not sure I follow, Lydia.”
“No, of course you don’t.” She wiped at the tears in her eyes and chuckled again, and then grabbed both of his hands. “Johnny isn’t really dead. I mean he is, but he isn’t. Does that make sense?”
“Not one bit.”
“Well, let me clear up the confusion for you. I’m—”
The office door swung open and they both turned to see Benji standing there.
“Oh, hey.” He glanced back and forth between them. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Tula needs you at her place, stat,” he said, nodding in towards him. “Hey, Devin.”
“Hey, Benji. Nice Mohawk.”
“You think? Thanks, man.” He grinned. “Just got it done a few days ago.”
“Looks good.”
“And we’re all having nice hair days,” Lydia interrupted, clapping her hands together. “I’m sorry, Devin. I really should get over there. Do you want to meet for lunch sometime? Maybe we can talk about Johnny then.”
“I’d like that, Lydia. Thank you.”
“Okay then. Lunch it is. Just call me and we’ll set something up. Sorry I have to rush out on you.”
“No, it’s okay. I understand completely,” he reassured her, following her back into the main part of the store.
At least he was getting closer to the truth now. Even if it wasn’t Johnny he’d kissed, maybe Johnny would know who to contact.
If not, no one could say he hadn’t tried.
“Hey, everybody!” Laney entered the small bookstore and waved at him, eyes sparkling. “Hi, Devin. What brings you to Bookleberry’s?”
“Kelly did,” he answered, returning her smile. “I was looking for some information and Lydia was more than happy to help.”
“Was she?” She glanced at her sister, who was gathering her things to leave. “And what kind of information did you need?”
“Just some stuff about the past. It’s a never ending quest.” He shrugged, catching sight of a familiar face outside the window.
It was Nick. What was Nick doing there?
He hurried to grab the door, pulling it open for him. Carrying a few thick pieces of plywood, Nick winked as he entered the store. “Hey, all. I brought what you asked for.”
“Oh, the plywood?” Benji popped up from the back. “That’s great. Thanks.”
“No problem. I keep hearing the weather is getting ready to get really bad. Better safe than sorry.” Nick’s eyes roamed back to Devin and his heart sped up. “What are you doing here?”
He may have accidentally forgotten to tell Nick his plans of visiting Lydia. Hell, he hadn’t even told him about the talk he’d had with Kelly.
Did that make him a bad lover?
“He just came by to see some familiar faces.” Lydia spoke up, heading for the door. “But we have to cut it short today because Prairie Town’s future mayor needs me.”
“She’s got my vote.” Nick grinned. “I’m all for girl power.”
“Wise words,” Callum remarked, following his wife out the door. “See you fellas later. Devin.” He tipped an imaginary hat in his direction. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Sure wi
ll,” he mumbled, heat creeping up the back of his neck.
Months had passed by and people still considered him to be a troublemaker. Would it ever go away?
“Well, here’s the money for the plywood.” Benji interrupted his thoughts. “Let me know if you get any sandbags in? We might need ‘em.”
“I highly doubt we’ll get any water this far inland,” Nick explained, stuffing the cash into his pocket. “The worst we have to worry about is wind damage, maybe a tornado or two.”
“Well, I don’t like either of those options.” Laney wrinkled her nose. “But I guess we should all be extra cautious when it hits.”
“That’s a smart move, Ma’am. Y’all have a nice day now.” Nick made his way towards the door and then gave him a crooked grin. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. If you want?”
“Yeah, sure.” His heart was going wild. “I think I’d like that.”
He tried his best to ignore the fact Benji and Laney were watching them as they exited the store, but he could feel their gazes on him.
Had they never seen two men flirt before?
They’ve probably just never seen me flirt with a man before, he determined as Nick pulled him into a tight embrace.
“I missed you today,” Nick whispered close to his ear. “Glad to see you’re venturing out into society.”
Sighing contently, he nuzzled his nose against Nick’s cheek.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he murmured, pulling back to gaze at him. “It’s about why I’m in town.”
“It can wait a second.” Nick’s eyes dropped to his mouth. “I need a kiss first.”
“Here?” His heart stopped.
“Right here.” Nick cupped his face and pulled his lips to his, not giving him a chance to back out.
And God, he didn’t want to back out anyway. Feeling those lips against his, that taste upon his tongue, and smelling the scent of sweat and cologne...it made him dizzy with lust.
He didn’t give a damn if the whole town watched.
But upon hearing a soft gasp of surprise, they yanked apart as if they were two teenagers being busted by a parental figure.
The Lost Days (Prairie Town Book 3) Page 22
