by J. Kenner
“That’s it?” I counter. “Objection, your honor. I’d like to see some evidence.”
“It’s not Ronan. I’m certain.”
“Well, then I guess we’re both certain. It must be somebody else.”
He exhales loudly, clearly annoyed. But that’s fair. I’m annoyed too.
I decide to try again. “Look, Lamar knows that telling me you’re dangerous isn’t going to scare me away. So he wouldn’t bother sending texts. He knows me too well. But Ronan doesn’t know me at all.”
“Oh, I think he has a pretty solid picture,” Devlin says. “But the bottom line is that I do know him.”
“Oh, do you? So that means that you already know he doesn’t like that we’re together. That he thinks I’m nothing but a distraction.”
“He what?”
“You heard me.”
I watch his face and see just a flicker of something that looks like fury before it goes completely blank.
“He didn’t send that note.”
“Goddammit, Devlin...”
“Do you trust me?”
I meet his eyes as I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you trust me?”
“I do,” he says easily. “But I think your perspective is tainted by friendship.”
“And yours isn’t?” I frown, remembering my earlier question. “Does Ronan know about Peter? For that matter, does Anna?”
His head snaps back, but he recovers quickly. Still, it’s enough to confirm that the question surprised him.
“I know Tamra does,” I say. “But I don’t know about them.”
“They know,” he says simply.
“You trusted them with that big a secret because you knew what kind of people they were.”
“Ronan, yes. With Anna, it was different. She knew what I’d been ordered to do before I did.”
“Oh.” I frown as I rearrange things in my mind. “So she—”
“My father sent her here with the order for me to kill Peter. And after she told me, that’s when she ran for Chicago and enrolled in Northwestern. It was the final straw that made her escape my father to try to start a new life. As for Ronan, he was there when Alex became Devlin. He was my friend, my confidant, and my brother in arms. I—”
“Trusted him,” I say softly. “I get what you’re saying. But it’s the same with me and Lamar. And it’s not just trust, Devlin. You can talk to them—I mean really talk. Nothing’s changed now that I’m in your life. But for me it has, because I can’t talk to Lamar anymore. Not really.”
I hadn’t expected to say any of that. Hell, I’m not even sure I was aware I was feeling it. But the words pour out, almost choking me with their power. I still have Brandy, but gaining Devlin means I lost Lamar. He’s still in my life, of course, but only in the censored version.
I watch as irritation flickers over his face. Then he draws in a breath, and slowly nods. He bends forward and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not used to...”
I wait, but apparently he’s not going to finish that sentence. “Used to what?”
“To being with a woman who matters to me. Come on.”
My heart is swelling so much it takes me a minute to realize that he’s tugging me back toward the Cask & Barrel. “What are you doing? I told you it’s just the three—”
“Trust me,” he says, then pulls open the door. I want to object, but I do trust him, and I want to make sure he knows that. So I draw in a breath, hope Lamar and Brandy aren’t going to lose their shit, and follow him inside.
He pauses inside the doorway, then cuts a path through the crowd. Some of the patrons turn and look, pointing and taking pictures. Devlin Saint is a known quantity—and mostly known as a recluse. The fact that he’s out—and with the woman who’s supposedly pulled him off the market—is enough to make the photo hounds perk up and start snapping.
“Hello, Instagram,” I mutter as Devlin barrels on.
Brandy’s got her back to the room and is deep in a story, her hands moving as she describes either making muffins or a purse—or possibly petting Jake. Lamar is laughing, but the sound catches in his throat when he sees us.
“Saint.” The word is flat. Emotionless.
Brandy twists around, her eyes wide with surprise before cutting to me. I see the question—and the accusation—and I can only shrug and raise my hands and hope that whatever Devlin says now will get me out of the doghouse with my friends.
Lamar and Brandy exchange surprised glances as Devlin settles into the four-top’s empty chair. I follow his lead and slide into mine.
“You know about Alex?” Devlin asks, his attention on Lamar.
Lamar’s brow furrows, but to his credit, he rolls with it. “I never knew Alex, but Ellie told me about him. Back when we were in the Academy, we exchanged notes on our past relationship disasters.”
I see Devlin wince, but I can’t tell if Lamar notices or not.
“Right. Well, I think it’s only fair that you know the truth. I’m Alex.”
“Oh.”
I can tell right away that Lamar’s response is only perfunctory. He has no idea about the magnitude of what Devlin just said. Then his eyes widen and he says, “Oh,” and I realize that it’s all clicked. “Why are you telling me—”
But Devlin cuts him off by sliding back his chair. He leans forward and lowers his voice so that there is no chance of anyone overhearing. “She trusts you. That means I trust you.” He looks between me and Brandy. “Tell him the rest of it.”
I see Brandy’s eyes widen, reflecting my own surprise. “Everything?” she asks. “I mean, not that there’s anything shocking,” she adds, as if to cover a faux pas.
Amusement flickers across his features, but his attention stays on Lamar as he stands. “Everything. And then if you have questions, ask Ellie. If she doesn’t know, ask me. Don’t poke around in my life. Trust me when I tell you that isn’t a good idea. I don’t appreciate it, and more importantly, there are people who worked very hard to make me who I am. And they don’t appreciate it either.”
“What the—?” Lamar says, but Devlin is already striding toward the door. I glance between my friends and him, then lift a finger in a just one sec sign as I hurry outside after my boyfriend, feeling just as bewildered as my friends.
I get caught in a crowd of college kids, and by the time I get to the door, I’m afraid he’ll have already disappeared. But he’s on the sidewalk waiting for me, and seeing him standing there in the soft glow from the restaurant’s windows, I melt a little.
“You did that for me.”
The hint of a smile flickers across his lips. “I think you already know there’s very little that I wouldn’t do for you.”
“But—”
“No.” He presses a fingertip to my lips. “You were right. I can talk about my world, my life, my past, and my present with so many people, even despite all the secrets I’m keeping. You only had Brandy.”
“Not only,” I tell him. “I have Tamra. And Anna. I’m enjoying getting to know her.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, but it’s not the same, and I know that.” He slides his arms around my waist, and I tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to be a negative in your life,” he says.
“You couldn’t ever—”
“Yes, I could. And that’s exactly what you were telling me earlier. If I walk into your life and suddenly you have to change the way you talk to your closest friends, then I’ve taken something from you whether I meant to or not. And that’s not acceptable.”
“You took a risk telling him.”
“No, I didn’t. You trust him, remember?”
I laugh, then nod. “Yeah, I do.” I rise up onto my toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Okay. Well, I guess I’m going to go back in there and finish my dinner and field a dozen questions. And I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Saint.”
“Come to my place later.”
I shake my head, grinning. “No.”
“All those points I just won?”
A bubble of laughter explodes from me. “Don’t even try guilt.”
“I have a full box of condoms.”
“No,” I repeat, but I’m having a hard time not laughing.
“But you want to.”
“I do,” I admit.
“So you’re punishing me.”
“No way,” I tease, my voice singsong. “I’m giving you what you like best. Anticipation.”
He leans forward and whispers. “In that case, I’ll have to make sure it pays off when I see you next.”
Then he turns and walks away. I watch him go, only to have my breath catch in my throat as I see a familiar figure in a doorway across the street.
Regina Taggart.
I tell myself it’s a coincidence. But as I watch—as her body turns while she watches Devlin walk to his car—I can’t help but fear that I’m wrong.
We end up getting the rest of our food to go since we can’t risk being overheard. Lamar heads out first, leaving Brandy and me to take care of the check. He’s parked about two blocks away, so that’s fair, and the plan is that we’ll meet at Brandy’s place. As soon as we’ve taken care of the bill, we head out onto the street with the take-out bags.
“You could’ve gone with Lamar,” I point out. She’d walked to the restaurant and is now hitching a ride back with me. “You’d already be there by now, getting us all set up and ready to eat.”
She shoots me a sidelong glance. “Right. Because we have absolutely nothing to talk about.” I shrug as she continues. “Are you sure we’re understanding Devlin right? Maybe he was drunk? Maybe he was being ... I don’t know, stupid.”
I circle Shelby and pause at the driver’s side door. “No, we understood right. As for him being stupid…” I trail off, because I want to believe in both Devlin and Lamar, but I can’t deny that the door Devlin opened scares me.
Brandy lingers at the passenger side of the car. Then she pulls open the door and slides in. I do the same, settling in behind the wheel. “I don’t get it,” she says. “I mean, Lamar is a cop.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I noticed.”
She tilts her head as if in admonishment. “Don’t be glib about this.”
I take a deep breath and try to relax. “I promise you, I’m not being glib. I’m trying to process everything. I trust Devlin. And I trust Lamar. And I want this. I want to be able to talk to him. Is that so bad?”
“Of course not! It’s just, well, you realize there’s no statute of limitations on murder, right? Surely, Devlin didn’t really mean you should tell Lamar everything.”
My stomach twists unpleasantly, and for a moment I think I might be sick. But I square my shoulders, because I believe what I told her. I do trust Devlin. And I do trust Lamar. And I know that they both love me, and that neither of them would hurt me. But, yeah, I’m scared, and I tell her so.
“So, what are you going to do?”
I draw in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I’m going to tell Lamar the truth, just like Devlin said.” I shift more in the seat so I’m looking at her directly. “It’ll be okay. Don’t you think it will be okay?”
I can see from her face that she’s unsure, but then she slowly nods. “Yeah,” she says, not entirely with conviction. “Of course it will. Lamar would never hurt you, and he knows that screwing with Devlin would do exactly that. Friendship tops everything, right?”
I nod, because she’s right. But I also hear what she doesn’t say—but does everything include the law?
I answer the unspoken question aloud. “Yeah, friendship wins. It has to.”
I turn forward and grip the steering wheel, wondering how much I truly believe what I said. Do friendship and love and family always win? If I had known what Uncle Peter was doing all those years ago, would I have stayed quiet? After all, I’ve stayed quiet about the fact that Devlin killed my uncle.
It’s different, though. What Devlin did was shocking, but understandable. He killed to save me. That’s an easy call, and I don’t feel any guilt holding onto that secret.
Peter, though…
He was stealing money and getting people hooked on drugs. And he was doing all of that for no reason other than his own profit.
Still, I’d loved him. Would I have turned him in? Or would I have kept his secret?
I don’t know, and my uncertainty bothers me. Thankfully, it’s not a question I have to face. Uncle Peter is dead, and exposing those secrets now doesn’t bother me.
The bigger question for tonight is how will Lamar feel once he knows the truth. Will he protect Devlin’s secrets, knowing that it would destroy me if he revealed them? Or will the oath that he took as a police officer take precedence?
Devlin’s surely thought about that, too, and I know that he must believe my friendship is strong enough with Lamar to ensure that he’d never do anything to hurt me, including revealing a crime. So how is it that I’m suddenly doubting? How is it that I’m suddenly scared?
It’s a rhetorical question, of course. I’m scared because even though I know Lamar well enough to know how he’s going to react, until the moment he tells me it’s okay, there’s always the chance that everything will go south.
Brandy seems to realize that I’m lost in my own thoughts and says nothing during the short drive back to her house. Lamar knows the key and alarm code to her place, so he’s already inside when we get there. I see him, and my stomach curdles when I realize that I can’t read his expression.
Then he smiles at me and holds out his arms and holds me close, giving me a hug. “I don’t know what it is you’re going to tell me, but you know it’s going to be okay, right?”
“Yes,” I lie. “I know.”
Brandy’s right behind me, and she quickly moves to the kitchen and starts plating all the food we brought in from Cask & Barrel.
“So, are you going to make me guess what this is all about?” Lamar asks. “Or are you going to dive in?”
“I thought I would stall until we had food. And possibly lots of alcohol.”
Lamar chuckles. Then he settles himself on one of the barstools across from where Brandy is bustling like someone who needs to stay in motion in order to prevent the apocalypse. I hop onto the stool next to him and try not to fidget.
“All right,” I say, but then don’t know how to continue. There’s too much to tell him and I don’t have any idea where to begin. Finally, I decide that the only way to go forward is to start with the worst and work backwards.
I’m about to do that when I realize that’s a stupid approach and starting with the worst would just freak Lamar out. So, I tell him about how Alex disappeared the night Uncle Peter died, which is something he already knew, and I figure it’s a good way to ease him into the story.
“You know all that, of course. How he left and broke my heart.”
“Which is one of the reasons that I’ve always thought Alex was a bastard. And now that I know he’s Devlin, it all sort of fits together.”
I almost snap out a defense of Devlin, but then I notice the slight curve of his mouth. He’s teasing me to make this easier, and that simple knowledge lifts a huge weight from my shoulder.
“Right. Okay. Well, the reason that he had to disappear is that he’s really Alejandro Lopez. Do you know who that is?” It’s a foolish question, because I can already see the answer in Lamar’s eyes.
“Devlin Saint is The Wolf’s son?”
I nod. “And after Uncle Peter was killed, he ran. That’s when he joined the military.” I don’t say that Devlin’s the one who pulled the trigger. Not yet.
In the kitchen area, Brandy is practically buzzing with anticipation, as nervous as I am about what Lamar’s ultimate reaction will be.
Right now, he’s calm, his expression pensive, as if he’s fitting the puzzle pieces together. “So, he became Devlin Saint in order to hide from his father?”
“Yeah.
And after his father died, he inherited everything that the government couldn’t take. He also inherited a lot of money from his mother. His mom’s family wasn’t dirty, so he used that money to live on, and he put everything he inherited from his dad into the foundation.”
“He wanted to make the bad money good.”
“Exactly,” I say, thrilled that he got there before I pointed it out.
“And you didn’t know any of this?”
“Back then? No. All I knew was that my boyfriend disappeared.”
“What about when you came back? Had you learned about Devlin then?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. You know exactly why I came back. Because Chief Randall told me that the guy who confessed to Uncle Peter’s murder couldn’t have done it. And that lifted the veil on the fact that Uncle Peter was somehow tied to The Wolf.”
“So when did you learn that Devlin was Alex? I mean, you also came to write a profile on Saint and his foundation. I know you, remember? You would have done your research before. Seen pictures of him.”
“True enough. But he doesn’t look like Alex anymore. He had some surgery, he changed his hair, he wears contacts to change the color of his eyes. And apparently the scar—”
I frown, since I still don’t know exactly how he got the scar. Just that he was at the wrong end of a knife. “I’m assuming it was from his time in the military.”
Lamar nods. “Okay. Go on. Does he know who really killed Uncle Peter?”
Across the bar, Brandy chokes on her sip of water, then holds up a hand in apology.
I keep my focus on Lamar and take a deep breath. “The truth is … well, the truth is that Uncle Peter was stealing from The Wolf just like we thought. And—and so The Wolf arranged it. Uncle Peter’s death, I mean.”
“Right. That much, I knew.”
I nod, then glance at Brandy before drawing in a breath as I turn my attention back to Lamar. Can I do this? Can I really burden him with this knowledge? If I don’t tell him, will it taint our friendship?
More importantly, what will it do to him—a cop—if I do?
Lamar’s brow furrows. “You’re telling me that Devlin knows who The Wolf hired.”
I force myself not to look at Brandy, then I swallow and say, “I’m not telling you anything.”
