Devil You Know (Lost Boys Book 1)

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Devil You Know (Lost Boys Book 1) Page 3

by L. A. Fiore


  It would be stupid to not consider how my moving out was going to affect my mother. And there was always the chance of her doing something to fuck up my world, but I was done with living in fear.

  It felt good walking out of that house and leaving all that shit behind. A car pulled up behind my piece of a shit. The driver climbed out.

  “You’re finally doing it.”

  Anton Scalene. I met him when I was fifteen. He stepped in when I found myself in a situation. Later, he started to bring his car in for service at the garage where I worked. He came from a place even worse than the bullshit I grew up with. I used my fists to channel my anger, but he had channeled his anger another way, making money and building a reputation for himself. And he was doing it. He could be scary as fuck when he wanted to be, but he was a friend…the first I’d ever had.

  “It’s about time,” he added. “Is that girl part of the reason? Thea, was it?”

  “Yeah.”

  He studied me as I loaded my bags into my trunk. “You like her.”

  “Hard not to.”

  “Good for you.” His focus shifted to my mother’s house. “And the bitch?”

  “She’s not home, hasn’t been for a few days.”

  He muttered something but moved on when he said, “I stopped by your new place but it was crowded.”

  “Yeah. Rosalie is determined to make my place a home.”

  Something moved across Anton’s expression, longing maybe. He’d never had a mother either. “Why don’t you come back with me?”

  “Their dad’s a cop.”

  “Yeah, so.” Anton was on the wrong side of the law. He was smart, fucking business savvy, but a guy like him, coming from where he had and being as young as he was, didn’t have all he had without bending the rules...a lot. “They’re different.”

  He seemed to weigh my words before he agreed when he said, “I’d like to meet this Thea.”

  Damian had his own place. It wasn’t much, but Mom would fix that. I was a little miffed with Damian because he had turned eighteen but never told us. Birthdays were clearly not to him what they were to me, but still there should be some acknowledgment of the day that he was born. My family had invaded and though he didn’t say one way or the other, I think he liked having us there.

  “Thank you for helping Damian get this apartment.”

  Dad was checking the appliances in the kitchen for their ‘soundness’ as he called it. “He hasn’t had it easy. His mother is a real piece of work. I won’t go into detail; that’s for Damian to share, but him having his own space…it’s the right thing.”

  “You co-signed the lease, didn’t you?”

  “They wouldn’t have given him the apartment without it. He has no equity and he’s young. I would have done the same for you and Cam.”

  I hugged him hard. “And this is why I love you so much. You’ve got a big heart, Dad.”

  He inhaled funny, like he was holding back tears.

  We were pulled from the moment when Cam said, “Mom, he’s a dude…seriously.”

  We turned to see Cam holding up a throw blanket.

  “It’s cold in here. He’ll appreciate that blanket when he’s watching television.”

  “He’s a dude. He’ll freeze rather than wrap himself up in this. Dad, come on, back me up here.”

  “What color is that?” Dad asked.

  “Taupe.”

  “It looks pink.”

  “It’s taupe,” Mom huffed and snatched the blanket from Cam. “Fine, I’ll put it in the closet.”

  “And the flowers? My man parts are shrinking the longer I’m here.”

  The door opened on the tail end of Cam’s comment. Damian clearly heard it because he grinned. He carried several bags and I walked over to help, but I came up short at the guy following Damian in. He wasn’t much older than us, but he carried himself like someone who was.

  Mom walked in from the bedroom. “Where’s the washer?” Her attention shifted to the door. “Damian. You’re back. I was just getting your laundry sorted.”

  Oh my God. Mom was sorting Damian’s laundry. I blushed; Damian didn’t have a reaction at all.

  “Sorting his laundry?” Cam threw his hands up in the air. “She’s losing it.”

  Mom ignored Cam and walked to Damian’s friend. “Hello. I’m Rosalie Ahern.”

  “Anton Scalene.”

  Dad tensed at my side pulling my attention from Anton to him. It was the way Dad was looking, his cop face that piqued my interest at the same time it made me nervous. I understood because there was something about Anton, the way he carried himself. He dressed really nicely too, but I didn’t think it was family money. He wasn’t a pampered rich kid, no way. However he earned his money, he had worked for it and I’d bet money whatever he did wasn’t legal.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Anton. That’s my husband Edward, Cam and Thea.”

  Anton’s gaze settled on me and I swear I saw the corners of his mouth tip up. Weird.

  “We were just helping Damian get settled and then we’re heading out for pizza. Would you like to join us?”

  Mom was the Tasmanian devil. She swept everyone up into her world. She didn’t judge. Everyone was good until they proved her otherwise. My focus was on Anton though because he had that same hesitancy that Damian had when he first started coming around…a sign that he wasn’t used to kindness or being included. That made me sad.

  Dad had come to the same conclusion when he said, “Maybe you two could help me move this back. I’m getting too old.” Dad could move the oven back, but he was trying to include Anton. He and my mom were the same in that people were good until they proved him wrong.

  Cam walked over to Anton and held out his hand. “Hey. I’m Cam. Why don’t you and I help Dad and let Damian save his laundry from my mother.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “What’s the big deal? I sort your laundry every week.”

  Cam called from over his shoulder, “Let’s stop talking about laundry.”

  Mom glanced over at me. “Boys are so weird.”

  “Pepperoni and mushrooms…that is a damn fine combination,” Dad said as we sat around a large table at the pizzeria.

  Damian liked pepperoni and mushrooms on his pizza. I’d have to remember that.

  “How did you and Damian meet?” Mom asked Anton.

  Anton looked over at Damian who jerked his head, like he was giving Anton permission to answer.

  “Damian was in a fight, five against one. I didn’t like the odds so I stepped in. Turns out, I didn’t need to get involved.”

  Mom wasn’t the kind of mom to get upset about a fight, but she did study Damian and Anton for several long minutes before she said, “It was good of you to have his back.”

  “We’ve been looking out for each other ever since.”

  I was coming back from the restroom when Anton appeared, blocking my way. The man was ridiculously sexy, not as sexy as Damian, but he definitely turned heads. It was the danger that radiated off him that stirred fear, which was why what he said didn’t at first compute for me.

  “Thank you for helping Damian get his own place.”

  “Ah…well it was my dad.”

  “But you went to your dad, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Why did I go to my dad?”

  He nodded.

  “He’s happier than he was when we first met, but there’s still sadness there. I suspect it’s his mom causing it and whenever I need help, it’s my dad and mom I turn to. Since he can’t turn to his, I offered mine.”

  His reaction was very strange. He rolled back on his heels and smiled. “I get it now.”

  “Get what?”

  “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

  I had the sense I had just passed a test, but I hadn’t a clue on what. I felt his comment needed a reply so I simply said, “Yeah, me too.”

  Dad, Mom and Cam headed home after the pizzeria. Anton also left. I li
ked him, liked that Damian had a friend like him. I was going back to Damian’s because I had something for him there, something I didn’t want to give him in front of everyone else.

  He’d been quiet for most of the night, something I was learning was just his way, but he had engaged a little…laughed, even smiled. And now that he was no longer forced to be near his mother, my hope was he would laugh and smile more.

  Once in his apartment, I walked to the kitchen and took from the cupboard a cupcake with white icing and a candle. I’d baked a bunch, this one turned out the best. Damian’s expression caused an ache in my chest when I turned toward him, his focus going from the cupcake to my face.

  “I baked it, so fair warning.”

  I lit the candle and slid the plate in front of him and then I sang happy birthday. Tears burned the back of my eyes because his expression was one I would never forget. Heartbreaking. It was why I didn’t include my parents or Cam because I knew how the gesture was going to hit Damian…hard. His eyes were bright when he blew out the candle.

  “Happy birthday, Damian.”

  He responded by pulling me into his arms and holding me there for a long, long time.

  “What was it supposed to be?” Cam asked of the concrete-like substance in the baking pan.

  “Brownies.”

  “A door stop would be a better application.”

  We were at Damian’s. We usually stopped at his place first after school, hung out for a bit, did homework before going home for dinner. I didn’t have much homework so I thought I’d make us a treat, but something went horribly wrong.

  “It smelled good until it didn’t.” Cam wasn’t helping with his observations.

  “I think I need a jackhammer to get this out of here.” I should just toss the pan and buy Damian a new one.

  Damian was of a similar mindset when he grabbed the pan, opened the trash can and tossed it in.

  “That was easy enough, but now you’ve got me in the mood for something sweet.” Cam started rummaging through Damian’s fridge.

  “I’ll go to the market,” I offered because I wanted something sweet too.

  “I’ll take you.”

  The bakery section of the market and Damian, it was like I was living in a dream.

  “What are you in the mood for?” I asked Damian a little while later as I hunched down in front of the bakery case and eyed the donuts.

  “Pie.”

  “Pie.” I stood. “You’re on to something.”

  The kid working the counter called our number. “What can I get you?”

  “What kind of pie do you have today?”

  “Pecan, cherry, apple and chocolate silk.”

  “Give us a second,” I said as I turned to Damian who stood with his hands in his pockets, grinning at me.

  “Which one do you want?”

  “Chocolate or pecan.”

  “Agreed. My choices too. So which of those?”

  “You pick.”

  I huffed out a breath because that didn’t help. I could be here for days. I turned back to the kid and leaned against the case. “Which would you get, pecan or chocolate?”

  “They’re both good.”

  “But if you had to buy one, which would it be?”

  “Probably the pecan.”

  “It’s not too sweet?”

  “No.”

  “And the nuts aren’t soggy? I don’t like soggy nuts.”

  “No.”

  I glanced back at Damian. “Pecan?”

  His eyes were bright with laughter but to me he simply said, “Okay.”

  “Pecan it is.”

  “We should do whipped cream. I can whip it up. Cinnamon or nutmeg?”

  Damian glanced at his wrist, even though he wasn’t wearing a watch. “We should make both or we’ll be late for dinner.”

  We left his apartment a little after three and dinner wasn’t until half past six. “Are you teasing me? Is Damian Tate teasing me?”

  He brushed the hair from my shoulder and my legs went weak. “Maybe a little.”

  I had always been addicted to sugar, but I was developing a new addiction, one that was so much sweeter. I didn’t realize I was staring at his mouth until his tongue touched his lower lip…sexiest thing I’d ever seen. That was until I looked into his eyes to see a heat so hot it threatened to incinerate me where I stood. Whatever was going on between us, I wasn’t alone in feeling it.

  We were graduating high school soon. Cam and I were starting college in the fall. I wanted NYU, but I wanted Damian too. Ever since the night of our private birthday celebration, something was growing between us. What had been a simple attraction in the beginning had morphed into something so much bigger. I wanted to know him, every facet that made up Damian Tate, and I was running out of time.

  He was joining us for dinner like he did most nights. Even Anton was becoming a regular around the table. He wasn’t here tonight, though I suspected he wasn’t because Uncle Tim and Uncle Guy were joining us too. Uncle Tim was a defense attorney and a friend of Dad’s since they were kids. Uncle Guy was Dad’s former partner at the NYPD when Dad was a beat cop before he got his detective shield. The three of them were a riot when together since Dad and Uncle Guy often teased Uncle Tim for his choice of profession.

  We were clearing the table while Uncle Tim and Uncle Guy debated a case that was in the headlines. “It doesn’t matter if he is guilty. The search was unconstitutional. It can’t be admissible.”

  Uncle Guy made a sound in the back of his throat before he countered Uncle Tim’s comment. “He practically confessed.”

  “The law is the law. We start bending it, it is a slippery slope.”

  “I don’t know how you do it? Defending people you know are guilty.” I was of a similar mindset as Uncle Guy. I couldn’t do it.

  “I don’t focus on the client, I focus on the law.”

  “I’m glad you can. I’d make a horrible defense attorney,” Dad added. And he would. He was too passionate, too black and white. There was right and wrong. No gray areas.

  “Thea.”

  My head snapped up from the dishes I was collecting.

  “I have something for you.”

  Our exchanges. After that first time, we exchanged gifts every month. One of the gifts I had given him was a picture I had drawn of him. He had been in his study working and I sat outside his office and sketched him. He had been so consumed by what he was doing he hadn’t known I was there.

  I put the plates down and followed him. I didn’t know Uncle Tim had joined us until he said. “Ah, the coveted box.”

  Dad had received the box from his mom, right before she died. Grandma and I had been very close. I was even named after her. One of my fondest memories was of watching her make cookies at Christmas time. She was a petite woman who only ever wore dresses. And every Christmas her counters were covered with cookie ingredients…flour, sugar, spices, crushed nuts, chocolate chips. It was a sign the Christmas season was in full swing seeing her delicate hands that were only ever adorned with her wedding ring, a three-stone band, rolling out the sugar cookie dough. Uncle Tim was right; it was a coveted box because Dad only put his most precious things in it. And every gift he gave me, the ones that fit, were always stored there. Uncle Tim went to the bar to pour himself, Dad and Uncle Guy a drink as Dad took the key from his ring and opened the box to pull out the small wrapped present…a ring pop in cherry.

  “I love it.”

  Dad grinned and Uncle Tim just shook his head, but he was smiling. Uncle Guy walked in a few minutes later.

  “Do you like my new ring?”

  “I do. I would like it even more if it was grape.”

  I didn’t stick around because they often closed themselves off in Dad’s study to debate cases and sometimes it even got heated, but they always ended the discussions amicably. Cam and Damian were cleaning the dishes and Mom was sitting at the kitchen table with her feet up.

  “I could get used to this,” M
om said.

  I joined her. “What? Having the guys doing the cleaning? Me too.”

  “I need to get them to do the cooking as well,” Mom said as she winked.

  “I like this plan. Do you hear that Cam and Damian? Mom is going to teach you to cook so you can feed us for a change.”

  “You could benefit from lessons, Thea. Your cooking isn’t all that great,” Cam teased as he looked at me from over his shoulder and winked.

  I stuck my tongue out at him. Sure I cooked poorly, but that kept me from getting roped into feeding people. It was all part of my diabolical plan to rule the world.

  “Are you staying for dessert, Damian?” Mom asked.

  “No, ma’am. I have plans tonight.”

  I was curious about these plans because lately he seemed to have ‘plans’ often.

  “And you, Cam?”

  “I’m going to a movie with Shelly.”

  Shelly was Cam’s girlfriend du jour. She was okay for an airhead.

  “That’s more dessert for us, Thea.”

  Curious about Damian’s plans, I wasn’t as enthusiastic as I usually would be when I said, “Works for me.”

  I lingered in the hall after saying my goodbyes to Damian—Dad would say I was skulking again—and heard he and Cam making plans to meet up later. Cam had said he was seeing Shelly, so why was he making plans to hang with Damian? What was even stranger, I recognized the address they were discussing. The place was close to home, but there were no clubs or bars or hangouts there. I was much like a cat, curious to a fault, so that night when Cam left the house I did too. I gave him a head start because he would drag me back home if he saw me.

  The destination was a brick building not far from our house that used to be a deli but had shut down years ago. As far as I knew it was abandoned. Inside, voices came from the lower level. I didn’t immediately go in, waited for a group of people so I could tuck in with them. The place was crowded—a good thing so I could stay hidden—and at first I thought it was illegal gambling and wasn’t sure how I felt about Cam and Damian getting messed up in that, particularly with Dad being a cop. And then I saw Damian. He stood in the middle of a circle of people that had formed around him. He wasn’t alone, another guy stood with him. The fight at school flashed through my head and yet somehow I knew this was going to be so much worse.

 

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