Devil You Know

by L. A. Fiore

  On the way back to the table a pair of gentleman waylaid us. They were attractive in a muscle head sort of way, but when compared to Damian…they were children.

  “Want to dance?” The bigger of the two asked me. I didn’t want to dance because I was having difficulty putting one foot in front of the other. Attempting to dance would be a disaster.

  Ryder was obviously thinking along the same lines when she said, “We have friends waiting.”

  The big one looked behind us and I giggled when he looked up and continued to look up like something you would see in the cartoons. Clearly Damian was behind me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the club.

  “I’ll just see you back at the table, Thea,” Ryder called after us.

  “Okay,” I called back then peered up at the dark angel that had a death grip on my hand. “He just wanted a dance.”

  “And the fact you think that, is why I walked over.”

  “I haven’t seen you in four years and I realize I’m not at my best at the moment, but you’re being awfully high-handed for a man who ran from me and never looked back.”

  Did I just say that? By the steam that came from his ears, yes I had. We reached a dark corner and he pressed me up against the wall. The first time he had done that, the night of our first kiss, came flooding back in delicious clarity. “Is that how you remember it?”

  It took a minute for my brain to move past the awesome memory and back to the discussion at hand. Right, him running. “Yep. Broke all ties with me, but you stayed in touch with Cam. That doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t really matter, does it? You have your life and I’ve got mine.”

  His jaw clenched and for a second I saw that lost look in his eyes. I hated that look. “Are you happy?” he asked.

  “I am. I’m finally able to say I’m happy and mean it. Are you?”

  “I’ve found my place.”

  He hadn’t answered my question, but I knew how much he needed to find where he belonged.

  I was happy, but I would never be as happy as I had been with him. I couldn’t put that on him, not when he had finally found his place. My life was here and his was three thousand miles away.

  “Are you going to continue to avoid me when I come home?” His voice was soft, with a hint of the Damian I remembered, and that damn organ in my chest ached. I couldn’t lie, he’d chosen his life and it wasn’t with me, but I couldn’t look into those eyes and lie.

  “I’m not happy, not like I could be with you. I wasn’t trying to avoid you…well I was, but only because I’ve only just gotten a handle on it…of learning to live without you, but I’m still not doing so great with that. I miss you. Every day.”

  And then he smiled and I wanted to weep. Instead I bit my tongue and fought to hold it all in. He brushed his thumb over my lower lip and my eyes closed as reality and an achingly sweet memory collided.

  He remembered too because his voice pitched deeper when he said, “I’ve missed you too.”

  My eyes flew open. “You have?”

  “Every fucking day.”

  I wanted to kiss him, and by how dark his eyes grew he wanted that too. “I should get you back to the others before I take advantage of the situation.”

  “I would be okay with you taking advantage of the situation.”

  His lips brushed along my jaw and my body burned. “It’s been four years, Thea. When I kiss you again I want you fully aware of every nuance.”

  “I’m feeling sober.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I replied on a sigh, “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

  It took me years to realize I wasn’t anything like my mother and what I felt for Thea was real and not the twisted sick obsession my mother confused for love. Thea still loved me. Tomorrow, after I kissed her senseless and lost myself in her body for a long fucking time, we’d talk. I wanted to start my life with her and I was going to wear her down until she said yes. I grinned all the way to my car.

  Four hours later I got the call that on-leave personnel needed to report back to base. My unit was deployed, the first of a dozen missions that spanned the next few years. As much as I tried to deny it, the life with Thea became more and more elusive. A better man would let her go. I wasn’t that fucking man.

  Dad was fixing my garbage disposal. I offered to have a plumber come out, but he said plumbers cost a fortune. It was my own fault. I stuffed too many potato peels down the drain, the disposal couldn’t keep up, the line clogged, pressure built and I had a pool of water in the cabinet under my sink. It didn’t take Dad long and while he worked I whipped us up some sandwiches. He cleaned up in my bathroom before he settled at the kitchenette table. “Pastrami on rye. Your mother would have a cow if she saw me eating this.” He lifted the sandwich and took a huge bite. “So good.”

  Mom had put them both on a more healthful diet, they were inching up in years and Mom wanted them to live well into their nineties. They were really good about their new diet, but splurging a little never hurt.

  “You’ve been so good I don’t think even Mom would have a problem with it.”

  “Likely. So how are you?”

  “I’m good.”

  Dad gave me a look. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “No.”

  He put his sandwich down and looked at me with concern from across the table. “When was the last time you saw Damian?”

  “A year.”

  “I know how you feel about him, but it’s been a long time since he went away and you’ve been on hold waiting for him.”

  “I love him.” I had given up the dream of him, but deep down I still waited. He was the one I wanted.

  “I understand that, but sometimes love isn’t enough. Your life is passing you by while you wait for the time to be right for the two of you. The time may never be right, so what are you going to do? Forgo a chance at happiness with someone else because you’re holding out for him?”

  He was right; I had thought the very same thing myself. But it was hard because he loved me too. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to be together, we just couldn’t get our timing right.

  He reached for my hand. “I like Damian. I like him for you, but I don’t want you to get to my age and have regrets. To have missed out on so much because you waited for something that never came to be. He isn’t coming home anytime soon and as much as you both may want it to be differently, you’re not a part of each other’s lives anymore. Live your life Thea, and that includes men. You never know, you might find someone. Damian was your first love, that doesn’t mean he’s your only love.”

  I thought about the last time I had seen Damian. He had confessed to missing me, but he had also asked if I intended to continue to avoid him when he came home. I had told him I would follow where he led, but he hadn’t asked me to come with him. He didn’t write, he didn’t call and even with there still being love and attraction between us, was that all it would ever be? A hook up when he was home? I wanted more from him, but he knew I did. The ball was in his court and Dad was right. It had been a year since I had last seen Damian and I was no closer to a relationship with him. Maybe it was time for me to do more than say the words that I was moving on, maybe I really needed to make the effort to move on because Damian had.

  “I’m not saying you have to get married, but give another guy a chance.”

  It physically hurt for me to agree because I didn’t want to, but Dad was right. Life was passing me by. It was time I started living it again.

  We had been eating dinner in the mess hall when all hell rained down on us. Enemy fire tore through our camp; bombs exploded followed by the screams of soldiers being torn apart. The smell of death saturated the air and when all the smoke had cleared we had lost twenty soldiers. Twenty families would get the call, would learn that their child gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country. One of the fallen was twenty-seven-year-old Johnny Middleton—the newest member of my Green Beret unit. His wife of two years and their baby son we
re waiting at home for him to return.

  I was on leave, so I volunteered to take Johnny home and I’ll never forget the silence of the airport as his body was wheeled from the plane. The tears in the eyes of strangers, all taking a moment to pay their respects to a man that gave his life for his country. And I would never forget the look on his young bride’s face, the tears that streaked down her cheeks and the pain buried in her eyes that would never fade.

  I thought of Thea. She’d been waiting a long time for me, but what if that was my homecoming? All those years she waited, put her life on hold for me, and I came home to her in a box. Or the thought of marrying her, having a family with her, and leaving her…forcing her to live through the heartbreaking scene I had witnessed with Johnny’s family. I couldn’t do that to her. She was young; it wasn’t too late for her to find someone who didn’t put his life on the line every time he stepped outside of his tent.

  I wrote to her and writing that letter had been the hardest fucking thing I’d ever done. I sealed it, stamped it and sent it off and a part of me died, but when one door closed, another opened.

  I turned the letter over and over in my hand. It wasn’t excitement I felt seeing Damian’s writing on the envelope. I knew what this was before I even opened it. Tears burned my eyes as I took a deep breath, ripped open the envelope and forced myself to read his words.

  Thea,

  I’m writing to tell you that I’ve accepted a post overseas for an indefinite stay. Our younger selves hoped one day we could pick up where we left off, but as adults I think we both know that isn’t going to happen. I love you, but sometimes love isn’t enough. Be happy. Live your life, Thea, and know there’s a man out there who remembers you…will always remember you.

  Damian

  Tears rolled down my cheeks and a little part of me died as I fisted his letter in my hand and curled myself up into a ball. I couldn’t hold back the sobs because it hurt like hell when a dream died.

  It was Christmas and my team had just been deployed again. The mess hall had a Christmas tree and they served turkey and all the fixings. It was good, but it wasn’t the meal Rosalie had always served. I’d give an arm for a slice of her turkey and one of her pies.

  US troops were pulling out of Afghanistan. That was the word that came down from the brass. Perhaps it was because of that announcement that insurgent activity had increased, fucking suicide bombers. As troops left, security teams replaced soldiers—private firms that could continue the peacekeeper efforts. I liked the idea of the private security firms, of leading a team. All the money I’d made from the army had been saved and Anton had helped with investing it. I was growing a nice sum and had some ideas on how to use it.

  “Mail.” One of the private’s called as he started calling out names. “Damian, you’ve got a package.” I had been expecting a package but I was surprised as fuck to see it was from Thea. It had been a long time since I’d seen her handwriting, but I knew it. I waited until I returned to my bunk before I opened it. Tucked in the box was a tin with a card taped on the top. The paper was wrinkled, as if she’d been crying when she wrote it. My heart squeezed in my chest.

  Dear Damian,

  I’ve perfected the cookie and wanted to share them with you. Butter cookies, like that first batch I had attempted when we were kids.

  Merry Christmas. I hung a stocking for you in my apartment. Maybe one day you’ll come home and see it, share the holiday with me. I know you’re moving on and you want me to do the same, so I will. But you’re still family. You will always have a place at my parents’ table, in their home, in their hearts and in mine. Please be safe and know I’m remembering you too.

  Love always,

  Thea

  My chest grew tight. All the times I would have loved a package from my girl at home and I get one when I could no longer call her mine. It had been over a year since I sent her that letter and still I thought of her…every day if I was being honest. I hoped she was happy, that she had found what I hadn’t been able to give her. And even wishing the best for her, I hated that it wasn’t me she curled up to every night. But that was life. It continued on whether we were ready for it or not.

  The rain came down in sheets; the grass under my feet was soggy as the heels of my pumps sunk into the mud. It was cold, Christmas was right around the corner but there was no joy or peace or giving thanks because my dad, my beloved daddy, was gone. The soil covering his grave was freshly tilled, his stone recently carved.

  He had been shot on the way into work one night. There had been a rash of shootings in the area, senseless violence, which made his death so much harder to handle. Two days after he died, I received a package from him. I had burst into tears when the mail carrier for my building handed it to me. I saved the box and the wrappings even the mailing slip. Ever since his first surprise with the digital music player we had continued the tradition, one that was shared just between the two of us and one I had really loved. This present was a key, a little brass key on a chain. He had often said I held the key to his heart. I wanted to hate the necklace because I suspected he had been returning from the post office, open later due to the holidays, when he was killed. His gift came at such a terrible cost, but I never took it off because it was his last gift to me. I wore it on a long chain, hidden from view because the memory and meaning was his and mine and I wanted to keep it that way.

  We had the city funeral a few days ago, but this memorial was just for the family. Mom was barely holding it together. I hadn’t really appreciated what Mom and Dad had until Damian. They had been true soul mates, the kind you read about in romance novels. He had been months from retiring; they had been planning their first of many vacations. It had been two weeks and Mom just wasn’t handling it. In her shoes, I wouldn’t be handling things any better and still I was worried because it was like she had died with Dad.

  Cam stood next to Mom. She clung to him like she needed him to stay upright. His head was lowered, his blond hair falling over his face. He and Dad had been especially close so seeing the devastation Cam was trying so hard to hide so he could be strong for Mom broke my heart. Anton stood stoically at Cam’s side, his grief etched in his features. A man struggling to hold the emotions he felt at bay. Uncle Tim was on Mom’s other side, Uncle Guy and his family stood next to him. Uncle Tim was still a defense attorney, a partner now at the prestigious firm Wainwright Gallagher and Rembrandt LLP, one of the top law firms in the country. He had come a long way since his humble beginnings. The man was practically a celebrity now and yet he dropped everything to be here for Mom, Cam and me. Just like Uncle Guy, they were both here to pay their final respects to the man they thought of as a brother.

  And just behind everyone was the lone figure, standing in the rain in his dress greens. Damian.

  My eyes moved to the stone, the final resting place of a man who had been all things to me, who had given me a strong sense of right and wrong, who never wavered in his love, even when that love was tough love, and who had taught through example that a real man could cry. I couldn’t believe he was gone, but he would never be forgotten.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  I stood in Mom’s kitchen looking at all the casserole dishes littering the counters, the people milling around. It was late and yet people still gathered to remember and mourn. I wanted them to leave, didn’t want to hear another apology over my loss. I had managed to get through the day by focusing on what needed to be done. But it was done now and my family had gone off to grieve in their own way. I needed to do that too.

  I started for the door when Damian walked in. He came home as soon as he heard about Dad. It had been years since I had last seen him. We never got our tomorrow because he’d been called back. Five years had passed since that night, four years since his letter. He rarely came home. I had even had a boyfriend for a time, but it ended because my heart just hadn’t been into it. I had finally let Damian go; at least I let go of the dream of being with him, of picking up where w
e left off. And even with that part of us over, the sight of him still brought all those memories back and how for just a little while he had been my Shaun Cassidy, Brad Pitt, Zac Efron and Chace Crawford all wrapped up into one. Once upon a time I had wanted the happily ever after with him and now I just wanted him back in my life any way I could have him. He had been my friend before he had become the love of my life. And after losing my daddy, I needed my friend back.

  “Do you want to go?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He waited for me to join him, his hand coming to rest at the small of my back to help move me through the crowd, deflecting well wishers with the slight turning of his massive shoulders. He draped my coat over my shoulders before walking me to his car. He had impeccable manners, he always had. He held the door for me before moving around to the driver’s side and folding himself behind the wheel.

  He didn’t ask where I wanted to go. He just drove. And when we parked in front of McGinty’s, Dad’s favorite Irish pub, I felt the tears burning the back of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.

  Inside he ordered two shots of Dad’s favorite Irish whiskey, and without saying a word, he lifted his shot in honor of Dad and kicked it back. This was exactly how Dad would have wanted people to remember him. Not wearing black, eating casseroles and whispering in soft voices. He’d have wanted us to have a drink, laugh, dance and be merry. To celebrate he had lived and not mourn that he had died.

  For an hour we silently celebrated my dad. I wasn’t in the mood to talk and he seemed to understand that, but then he always had been able to read my moods so easily. His head turned and those pale eyes found mine. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you for this.”

  “He was a good man.”