“Don’t hurt my baby. Please don’t hurt my baby!”
“Get off me, woman. He has to learn a lesson. Kissin’ other little boys ain’t gonna fly in this house. Come here, Devin.”
Shaking like a leaf, he peered up at the mountain of a man towering over him. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he whimpered, terrified of what was about to happen.
“Please don’t whip me, Daddy. I’m so sorry. I won’t never do it again.”
“Ain’t no son of mine going to grow up to be a goddamn faggot. I said get your ass over here!”
“You better go, Dev-o,” a gentle voice whispered into his ear. “Go before it gets worse. I’m sorry I got ya in trouble.”
It was gone within seconds, the terrible memory of the day his father had caught him kissing another boy. But it was a memory nonetheless.
“Devin, stop it!” Laney stood in the corner of a room—he didn’t recognize the room—and buried her face into her hands. “Stop yelling, please. I can’t do this anymore.”
Laney? Why was Laney in that memory?
No...it was a different memory. From when?
“I’m breaking up with you, Devin. I can’t be with someone like you, not after what you did to Johnny. I was stupid for ever thinking you could change.”
But he had changed, hadn’t he? Why was she so angry with him? Why was she crying?
The scene changed again. He was small once more, on the playground at school.
“Get him, Devin! Beat the snot out of him!” Someone cheered. “Get that little faggot.”
His fists were flying, hitting someone mercilessly. Blood leaked from the nose of his victim, and then their eyes met.
Where did he know those eyes from?
“Kick his ass, Devin! Johnny deserves it.”
Johnny?
Everything shifted again, a blur of colors greeting him as he passed through memory after memory, various conversations going too fast to understand and heartbreaking events he didn’t care to see in the first place.
He saw all of it.
He remembered all of it.
“You are a terrible, horrible person, Devin Rose!” A voice cried. “I hope you rot in hell!”
“I hate you, Devin. You’re a monster!” Another voice said.
“Hey, douchenozzle. I’ve been waiting for you.” He knew that voice, but it was filled with so much hate – hate he deserved.
He wanted to shut if off. He wanted the pain to go away. It felt like a dam had busted open and every vile, cruel thing he’d ever done was suddenly being shoved back into his brain.
It hurt. It all hurt so terribly bad.
Why couldn’t it just end?
But then the voices died down and the images disappeared, leaving only two faces in his mind.
It was Kelly and Nick, smiling at him. The tenderness in their gazes made him want to hang on.
It made him want to fight to live.
“Stop talking about yourself as if you’re some unforgivable monster, Devin. You are a good person, okay?”
Kelly was reaching out to him, offering her hand. She saw past the bad. She saw the real him. She wanted to save him...
“The past is the past, baby. Let it stay there.”
Nick’s sparkling eyes were there again, and God, they looked so familiar. He recognized those eyes from days gone by.
Yes...he did know those eyes.
The first memory returned, and he was small again. And frightened.
A much younger Nick was by his side, holding his hand tightly.
“It will be okay, Dev-o,” he whispered, smiling reassuringly. “Everything will be okay.”
The friend he’d been trying to remember was not Johnny – it was Genie. Nicholas Eugene Laveau.
Genie. He was my Genie, my best friend.
“Don’t give up on me,” young Nick said. “Don’t you give up on me, Devin. Fight.”
Those were the last words he heard before falling into a world of darkness.
He only felt peace.
Chapter 20
Kelly
Silence fell upon the tiny town she’d always known and loved—more often than not—and as she emerged from the house with Nick, Mrs. Harrington, and her children, she was overwhelmed with emotion by the sight the devastation awaiting them.
Lawn decorations, a window screen, a basketball, and part of her roof were scattered across the lawn. The skies were still gray, but they weren’t nearly as frightening as they had been only a few moments ago.
Six minutes. It was such a small amount of time for things to change so drastically.
It was hard to fathom that a tornado had just wreaked havoc on their street. Everything was so quiet, so still. As neighbors emerged from their homes, donning expressions the same as hers, she clung tightly to her children and thanked God for keeping them safe.
I hope Devin is safe, too.
Justin whistled softly and tightened his fingers around her hand, and she mustered up the courage to survey the damage.
“My god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a mess,” Mrs. Harrington stated sadly. “Look at my poor house.”
Gazing down the street, she caught sight of the quaint little house with red shutters, and frowned. Mrs. Harrington’s home was going to need a lot of work.
She imagined there were others that looked just the same all across town, or maybe even worse.
“I’ll take care of that, Mrs. H. Don’t you worry,” Nick said, resting a hand against the old woman’s shoulder. “We’ll get it all sorted out.”
“What about our house?” Justin asked, turning around to peer up at it. “Whoa! The roof’s gone!”
She winced and slowly turned to stare at her home, the place that held so many memories, good and bad. That stupid roof had always been a problem – one she’d now have to save up the money to deal with again.
“Oh, drat!” Mrs. Harrington huffed in frustration, causing all of them to stare at her. “And those nice people just fixed that for you a few years ago. I suppose I’ll have to call them again.”
“Santa had those nice people fix our roof,” Justin commented casually, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean, I know he isn’t real now, but back then the lady who said she was his wife, said he had sent them to fix it. Do you remember that, Mama?”
“Yes, I remember it.” Her eyes flitted to Nick briefly, but he didn’t seem to be as curious about it as she anticipated.
Good. It’s probably for the better.
She already had enough to deal with, tornado damage and such, without adding to the stress of admitting how bad things had gotten for them at one time. What if he saw her as a bad mother because of it?
“I remember, too.” Mrs. Harrington gave a small chuckle and then met her gaze, winking. “Santa really wanted to help you that year, and he’ll help you again.”
You sneaky old woman.
She’d been trying to figure out who had enlisted the help of Giftapalooza since the night Lydia and her friends showed up, bringing gifts galore for her children and so much more.
They gave her hope.
And now she knew the truth, and it helped lift her spirits in spite of what they’d just been through.
She mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to her and looked to Nick again, who was busy with his phone.
“Are you calling Devin?” She asked, her heart skipping a beat.
“Yeah, or at least I’m going to try to,” he replied, worry evident on his handsome face. Lifting the phone to his ear, he shook his head and sighed. “The lines are probably down everywhere. I doubt anyone will be able to make a call anytime soon.”
“Damn it,” she whispered, closing her eyes. Worry plagued her mind as she thought of Devin. He had been so brave, going out in the middle of the storm like that. No matter his past crimes, or even how she felt about him – the guy was doing right by his mother.
“It’s okay, babe. We’ll get to him,” Nick reassured her, reaching out to rub her
arm comfortingly. “We can take my truck and—”
“Where’s your truck, Nick?” Justin asked, running to the sidewalk. “I don’t see your truck.”
“No...” Nick shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed heavily. “I don’t see it either.”
Staring down one end of the street and then the other, Kelly blinked in disbelief. “You don’t think...”
“Oh, I do,” he replied with a nod. “It could be anywhere right now. The wind accompanying that thing must have been hellacious. It’s no telling where it took my truck.”
“Oh, Nick. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed his hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “That sucks.”
“Nah, I’m not worried.” He smiled at her and then lowered his eyes to Jamie. “It can be replaced; she can’t.” Then he gazed at Justin, who was busy playing with the basketball that definitely belonged to one of the neighbor’s. “He can’t.”
“Oh, Nick...”
“I don’t care about the truck, Kelly. Why are you crying?” He furrowed his brows and slid a thumb beneath her eye. “Hey now, none of that. What’s wrong?”
“I just...sometimes the things you say,” she admitted, blushing. “They seem to come at exactly the right moment.”
“Oh.” A grin slowly spread across his lips and he pulled her into a hug, smooching the top of Jamie’s head in the process. “What can I say? I’ve got a knack for it, I guess.”
“Well, I like that knack,” she confessed, nuzzling her nose against his scruffy cheek. “I’m worried about Devin.”
“Me, too,” he murmured with a sigh. “Maybe if I find my truck and it isn’t in too bad o’ shape, we can go check on him. If worse comes to worse, we always have your car, beautiful.”
“You’re right. I just don’t know how bad the roads will be; my car can’t handle rough terrain.”
“Then maybe we ought to add that to our list of things to do in the future, huh? We’ll get you a Daisy Duke sort of jeep, huh?”
She laughed gently. “I’d like that very much.”
Knowing they were going to check on Devin made her feel one hundred percent better in spite of the blow their town had taken from the storms. It was so strange to feel so strongly about a guy she’d once disliked, but Devin had grown on her.
At one time she couldn’t have cared less what happened to him – perhaps she even would have wished ill on him, but not now. They’d shared so much together, experienced wonderful things with one another—and with Nick. She would have even gone as far as to say her feelings for him were deeply romantic.
They were the same feelings she had for Nick, and she wasn’t fond of the idea of losing either of them.
Please let him be okay.
“Hey, Nick!” Justin shouted excitedly, racing back to them. “I think your truck is over there.”
“Over where?” Nick asked, lifting his head and looking around.
“There,” Justin repeated, pointing towards the side of the house. “I can see the hood.”
“What?” He laughed, a strange look on his face.
Pulling away from her, he ventured towards the side of the house with Justin right on his heels. Curiosity got the best of her and she followed after them, wondering how it was possible for a vehicle to be carried such a distance without slamming into her house.
“It’s a miracle,” Mrs. Harrington said when she finally caught up with them. “Another two feet and that thing would have destroyed your house, Kelly. It’s like God just plucked it up and conveniently placed it right there. How odd.”
“How odd is right,” Nick said as he surveyed the damage.
The truck seemed to be just fine—just like the house. If anything, the only thing that seemed to have been destroyed in the truck’s descent was the lawn. A few patches of grass were missing and one of her flower plots had been shattered.
Everything else was perfectly untouched.
“That’s amazing,” she mumbled in disbelief. “How can something like that be possible?”
“I really don’t know.” He crouched by the shattered flowerpot and shook his head, obviously just as confounded as the rest of them. “That took a pretty damn big miracle.”
“Yeah. A pretty damn big miracle,” Justin echoed, which earned him a sharp glare.
“Justin! Don’t say that word.”
“Sorry, Mama.”
“No, that was my bad.” Nick straightened up and dusted his hands off on the thighs of his jeans, giving her his best boy-ish grin. “I shouldn’t have said that in front of him, darlin’. Do you forgive me?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of the landline ringing inside caught her attention.
“That may be Devin!” She gasped, feeling her heart leap up her throat. “Excuse me, Mrs. Harrington—oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Holding Jamie close to her chest, she all but ran back into the house. Dodging around fallen pictures and little knick-knacks she’d collected over the years, she grabbed the receiver on the fifth ring.
And damn it, she was out of breath.
“H-hello? Devin?”
“Hey, Kel. It’s Lydia. Are you okay?”
Though static was strong in the line, she could hear the fear in her friend’s voice, and it warmed her heart to know Lydia cared so much for her safety.
“I’m just fine, Lydia. We’re all okay. Are you?”
I am a horrible friend, she decided as she switched ears and glanced out the window. I should have been thinking of her this entire time!
“We’re okay,” Lydia said, breathing a sigh of relief. “God, I couldn’t get through to anybody. The towers must be down or something. But then I remembered you have a house phone so I thought it was worth a shot. How bad does it look over there?”
“It’s not as bad as it probably is in other places. Nick’s truck got thrown into my yard. Half my roof is gone again.”
“Oh no. Oh, shoot. I’m so sorry. I’ll get Callum’s dad to fix it for you again, I promise.”
“Hey, no. Calm down. It’s okay.” She smiled into the phone, wishing only to hold her friend at that moment. The worry and panic in Lydia’s voice made her feel so bad – she was an awful friend. “How do things look over there?”
“Bad. There are houses destroyed in every direction. Three tornados hit Prairie Town, Kelly. Three.”
“I know. It seems unreal, doesn’t it?”
“It’s pretty surreal, yeah.” Lydia fell silent for a moment, and she knew her friend was crying. Hell, maybe she would have been crying, too, had it not been for her adrenaline pumping so fiercely. “The apartment complex Ags lives in is gone. There’s nothing left but a bunch of wood.”
“Oh, my god. Is she, erm, he okay?”
“She’s fine,” Lydia replied, sniffling. “She came over to our place before it got real bad, but...”
“But what?”
“There were still people inside.”
A shiver raced up her spine and her arm tightened around Jamie as she allowed her friend’s words to sink in.
People died because of this storm.
A part of her didn’t want to accept it.
Casualties in Prairie Town were so rare. Most of its residents died from old age, not because of Mother Nature. Had they even seen a natural disaster on such a large scale before?
“There’s a team of search and rescue guys driving all over town. I saw them pass by a few minutes ago. They’re looking for bodies.”
And somehow, she felt sick.
“Are you still there, Kel?”
“Yes.” Her response left her lips in a broken whisper, and her vision blurred. “Yes, I’m still here, Lydia.”
What if Devin was one of the bodies they found?
A tear escaped between her lashes and it was all she could do to maintain her composure. There, in that very moment, she knew that losing Devin was not an option.
I will not lose him, too.
It was bad enough to have her husband ripped away from her – surely God wouldn’t put her through such pain again.
Right?
“I h-have to go, Lydia,” she said, her voice quivering. “I need to make sure Devin’s okay.”
“He’s not there?” Lydia sounded surprised. “Oh my god, where is he?”
“He went to his mom’s house.” Her voice betrayed her. The bravery and calmness she’d previously exuding was gone, fear and hopeless panic replacing it. If she didn’t see him soon, it was no telling what horrible scenarios would run through her mind.
I can’t lose him.
“Oh, Jesus.” Lydia’s muffled voice was filled with alarm. “So he was on Rose Drive? Oh, my god.”
“Oh, my god, what?” She clutched the phone as tightly as possible, feeling the blood drain from her face. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean...ugh...”
“Lydia! What do you mean by that?”
“I heard a lot of sirens heading that way a few minutes ago. I think...”
“You think what?”
“I think maybe someone died there, too.”
If Lydia said anything else, Kelly did not hear it. She dropped the phone and raced back outside, stumbling off the porch with only one goal.
“We need to get to Devin,” she said, sobbing loudly. “We need to get to him now.”
—————
Devin
On the night he allegedly lost his memory, his head hurt as if it had been slammed into a rock repeatedly. It had taken a strong dose of pain medicine to dull the ache, and even then, days had passed by before it fully disappeared.
At the moment, as he struggled to sit up, he was certain the beating he’d received from his father, this time, would take much longer to recover from.
His father always wanted his wounds to take a little longer to heal...
The world slowly came back into focus as he cradled his head between his hands, groaning softly from the throbbing in his temples, and in the back of his head. Sounds, so quiet and loud at the same time, attacked his ears.
What the hell happened?
It took a few moments for him to muster the courage to open his eyes. The warm liquid on his face was beginning to dry, and in turn his stomach began to churn. He absolutely hated blood; he’d always hated blood.
The Lost Days (Prairie Town Book 3) Page 33
