Devin

 

Devin couldn’t believe what just happened. Not only did he have sex—amazing sex—with a woman he was planning to kill, but Cara was the first woman he had been with since Amber. Which he knew sounded crazy.

 

It had been years, but still, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to see another woman that way. He visited strip clubs, watched a fair share of Internet porn, and masturbated when necessary—he wasn’t a monk, after all—but being with another woman the way he’d been with Amber for so many years had felt impossible. Yet with Cara, it hadn’t felt impossible. In fact, it had felt amazing.

 

When she first kissed him, his brain told him to push her away, to separate himself from her, but his body said something else entirely. Somehow, Cara had managed to get under his skin. She had wiggled her way into his dreams while he was unconscious, and now, despite the tremendous obstacles standing in the way of any sort of relationship ever forming between them, she had wiggled her way into his conscious mind.

 

And, to put it bluntly, onto his cock. Though, to be fair, Devin knew he had done a fair bit of wiggling on that front, as well. He couldn’t help himself. The way he felt when their bodies touched was indescribable. It felt refreshing like mist off of the ocean and electrifying like a freefall off a cliff. It had felt necessary and inescapable and better than anything else had felt since Amber died.

 

Amber.

 

Devin didn’t sit around and mourn Amber every minute of every day. He knew she wouldn’t want that for him, but he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d betrayed her somehow. Even then, he couldn’t ignore how good he felt.

 

His head felt clear and, whether it was the immense amount of painkillers coursing through his system or the hormones that had been released during sex, his body didn’t hurt anymore. He felt whole and unbroken and really really good.

 

More than anything, though, he felt guilty. Guilty for running off and leaving Cara alone in the kitchen without an explanation. Guilty for having sex with her despite knowing he planned to have her killed. Guilty for every lie he’d ever told her. And guilty that, despite all of those things, he couldn’t ignore how badly he wanted to be inside of her again. The sex had been unreal.

 

When Devin finally got dressed and left his room, he found Cara sitting at the kitchen table, a sandwich in front of her.

 

“I was hungry,” she said.

 

He nodded. She had been practically alone in the house for several days. Although it was weird for him to see her so comfortable in his house, it made sense. She was basically living with him now.

 

Devin pulled out the sandwich stuff and made himself one, too, grabbing a bag of potato chips from the cabinet and setting them on the table between them. Cara grabbed a handful and put them on her plate.

 

“We need to figure out what to tell my boss about the second target,” Devin said around a mouthful of sandwich. “How did you kill him?”

 

“A gun. In the temple,” Cara replied.

 

“Perfect. That’s my MO. That will be an easy sell. Did you get a picture of the body?”

 

Cara shook her head. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to.”

 

“That’s okay,” Devin said, waving away her concern, though he knew it was going to be tough explaining to Cristoff why he failed to take yet another polaroid of a body.

 

They ate in silence for a while, and Devin tried to ignore the strong urge he felt to stare at Cara’s mouth, at the plush curve of her lips. He knew not bringing up what had happened in the kitchen less than an hour prior was awkward, but bringing it up somehow felt more awkward. Especially after how he’d reacted when they finished. Plus, Devin didn’t plan to repeat the event, so he thought it might be best if they never mentioned it again.

 

“So…” Cara said, her voice trailing off.

 

Devin looked at her, his eyes wide, nervous she was about to bring up their escapade in the kitchen. He held his breath waiting for her to continue speaking.

 

“I guess we should start thinking about the final hit,” she added.

 

Devin released the breath he’d been holding. “Yeah, I guess we should.”

 

Just then, a knock on the front door made them both jump.

 

“Who is it?” Cara asked, and Devin could see she was nervous. She stood up and grabbed her plate, taking it to the kitchen and moving out of sight of the door.

 

“I’m not sure,” he answered.

 

Three more quick knocks sounded, and Devin got up and opened it.

 

His mouth fell open.

 

“Evan,” he said, his tone of voice a crossover between a greeting and a statement.

 

Evan walked past Devin into the living room and immediately began pacing back and forth on the carpet.

 

“Why?” Evan asked, his voice loud and shrill. “Why would you do this?”

 

“Do what?” Devin asked, not sure what Evan was talking about, but reaching out to touch Evan’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

 

Evan shrugged him off and backed away, pointing an accusatory finger at his dad. “You killed him. I recognized you in the shitty security camera footage of the apartment complex. You killed a guy. You shot him. Do you know how many times they made me watch that footage? Do you know how many times I watched you pull your gun on that guy and then drive away like it was nothing? You’re a murderer.”

 

Evan grew more hysterical with every word, and Devin wanted to lie to him, tell him he was mistaken, but he knew it would only make things worse. Evan had always suspected his dad was in a shady line of work, but now he had proof.

 

“They attacked me,” Devin said, ignoring the fact that he would have killed Trevor regardless of whether he’d jumped him or not. “And since when do you work at the police station?”

 

“But you killed him and then just left him in the street. You didn’t even call the police!” Evan shouted back. “And I work as a legal aide to make extra money while I’m in law school.”

 

“Law school?” Devin asked. “I didn’t know you were in law school.”

 

“And I didn’t know my father was a murderer. We are both learning lots of new things today,” Evan said. “I didn’t tell anyone I recognized you because I wanted to warn you first, but I might.”

 

“You can’t,” Devin said.

 

It was true that he didn’t want Evan to turn him into the police for selfish reasons, but there was a whole litany of unselfish reasons Evan couldn’t tell. The main one being that the Morettis would have him killed.

 

Evan rolled his eyes and began pacing again, his hands running through his shaggy hair. “No, I can. That’s the beauty of being an innocent citizen with knowledge of criminal activity.”

 

“I know what you must think of me,” Devin said, lowering his eyes to the floor.

 

“You have no idea what I think of you,” Evan replied, his voice filled with venom. “Did Mom know what you did for a living? Did Mom know she was living with a murderer?”

 

Devin and Amber had agreed long ago to keep Devin’s connections with the mafia away from Evan, but even Amber didn’t know the whole extent of it. She didn’t know that he killed people for a living. As far as Amber knew, Devin smuggled drugs or made money transfers. And as far as Devin was concerned, it was better that way. The less she knew, the safer she was.

 

“No,” Devin admitted, hoping a little bit of honesty would bring Evan closer to his side.

 

“You liar,” he spat back, disgust written clearly on his face. “She was a good person. The best. And she spent her life living with a liar. She died never knowing who you actually were.”

 

Devin bit his bottom lip, wanting to defend himself, but knowing it would do no good. The only thing that truly mattered was ensuring Evan’s safety.

 

“You have to listen to me, Ev. You can’t tell the police what you saw. I’m not just saying that to save my own skin. The people I work for will kill you.”

 

“I work in a police department. I think I’ll be plenty safe,” Evan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“They have eyes everywhere; rats in the police department and the DA’s office. They will know you turned me in and they’ll kill you. It doesn’t matter where you are.”

 

For the first time, Evan hesitated. He seemed to be absorbing what Devin had said. But then, a clatter came from the kitchen.

 

Evan’s eyes widened, and he immediately turned and marched into the kitchen. He froze when he saw Cara.

 

“Hi.” Cara’s voice was quiet and awkward from the kitchen.

 

Evan turned back to his father. “She must know you’re a killer.”

 

The list of things Cara knew about Devin was way too long to rattle off, so Devin settled for a swift nod.

 

“Glad you’ve found someone worthy of you,” Evan said before he turned and marched out the door.

 

# # #

 

Cara

 

Devin sat on the couch after his son left, and Cara stood in the kitchen, wanting to give him his space. Their conversation had been pretty heavy, and Cara felt bad having overheard it all. She regretted not going down to the basement or finding some excuse to leave the house for a while.

 

It seemed surprising to her that Devin’s family didn’t know his true occupation. It was such a big thing to hide. Such a huge burden to carry alone. Cara wondered how he’d managed it all these years. How he’d hid the truth from everyone.

 

Was he afraid his wife wouldn’t accept him? She supposed it was a logical fear considering his son’s reaction to figuring out the news. Cara suddenly felt separated from society. Why was she not running away from Devin as well? Why was she not horrified by his line of work? Was something wrong with her?

 

There must be, she thought. Devin hid his truth from everyone in his life because he knew they’d never accept him, yet Cara knew the truth, and she didn’t run. More than that, she’d slept with him. She’d known him only a few days, and she had now killed another man for him. True, it was partly for herself, as well, but the fact remained.

 

Was that why he’d run away from her after they had sex? Did Devin think she was insane for wanting him? These thoughts settled in her head like storm clouds as she waited for him to say something, but minutes continued to slip by, and he didn’t move.

 

“He’ll come around, I’m sure,” Cara said, though she didn’t think that was true. Evan seemed pretty angry, and it didn’t seem like the kind of anger that would dissipate with time.

 

Devin didn’t say anything but buried his face in his hands.

 

Cara crossed the room and sat next to him, sitting far enough away that they didn’t touch.

 

“And I’m sure none of what he said is true. Your wife knew who you truly were. Women are more intuitive than men give them credit for, you know.”

 

“Cara.” Devin’s voice sounded defeated, broken.

 

“Yes?” She leaned towards him, her hand reaching out to rub his shoulder.

 

“I need some space right now.”

 

Cara let her hand fall. “Sure. Right. Of course. I’ll go.”

 

Immediately, she lifted herself off the couch, grabbed the car keys from the counter and, without giving Devin a second glance, walked through the front door. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she needed to go.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Cara pulled into the mall’s parking lot. She hadn’t had a specific location in mind, but once she saw the mall, she realized how badly she needed clothes. She had her credit card in her wallet but didn’t necessarily want to leave a paper trail if she didn’t have to. If the police were looking for her, one swipe of her credit card would lead them right to her.

 

She opened the glove box and rifled through a hodgepodge of car manuals, CDs, and fast-food restaurant napkins until she found an envelope. It was full of twenty-dollar bills, at least twenty of them. Cara felt bad stealing from Devin but promised herself she’d use her share of the money from the hit to pay him back. She stuffed two hundred dollars in her back pocket and went inside.

 

Being inside of a clothing store, surrounded by moms shepherding their children through the aisles and husbands reluctantly holding up golf polos to their chests for their wives to inspect, made Cara feel out of place. Her life had changed so drastically in the last week. It didn’t feel like she belonged in the normal world anymore, and it felt as if everyone knew it. Even though she knew no one was paying her any attention, she couldn’t help but feel as if stares followed her wherever she went.

 

Moving through the aisles quickly, anxious to get out of the store and back in the car as soon as possible, Cara loaded her arms with black cotton underwear, a couple of black bras, a lacy black nightgown that was on clearance, and two T-shirt dresses—one gray and one black. She hadn’t meant to buy everything in black, but the color was inconspicuous, difficult to stain, and easy to mix and match with anything. With her very limited wardrobe at the moment, black seemed like the safest bet.

 

The total came out to $138, and the sales clerk didn’t bat an eye when Cara handed her a wad of twenties to pay for it. Cara told the woman to keep the change, grabbed her bags and did everything short of jog out of the store. Once she was back inside the car, she released a sigh of relief, and pulled out, heading back to Devin’s.

 

It wasn’t until she was a few minutes from Devin’s house that Cara realized how safe she felt there. She understood too well how ironic it was, considering only four days prior she was being held there against her will, her hands tied behind her back. Now, though, even when Devin seemed moody and distant, she still felt like they were partners. Like, for the first time in her life, she had someone she could depend on.

 

Then, she turned onto his street and saw the police car. It wasn’t parked directly in front of Devin’s house, but a few houses down. Still, there it was. Cara felt her heart lodge in the base of her throat.

 

She pulled into the driveway because she wasn’t sure what else to do. Run? Maybe, but where would she run to? She had nowhere to go and no money to get there even if she did. She sat in the car, frozen in fear, unable to get out of the car or drive away.

 

She saw the curtains of the large picture window in the living room peel back. Saw an unfamiliar face peek out and see her. Her decision had been made for her.

 

Calmly, taking deep breaths the entire way, Cara grabbed her bags and walked up the sidewalk to Devin’s house. She pulled open the door as if she’d lived there her entire life. As if she wasn’t afraid at all. The mood inside was somber. Devin was sitting on the armchair, while the two police officers sat on the couch. They all three stood as Cara entered. She tried to look surprised.

 

“Hello,” she said, a question in her voice. “What is going on?”

 

The two officers looked at each other and then at Devin, who rose to his feet and crossed the room to her, his arms open wide.

 

“Honey,” he said, wrapping her in a hug, “I have some terrible news.”

 

Honey? Since when did Devin call her honey?

 

“What is it?” she asked.

 

“Daniel passed away.” His mouth turned down in a frown, but his eyes gave her a warning.

 

One of the officers on the couch coughed. “Actually, ma’am, he was murdered.”

 

Cara gasped and hoped it didn’t sound too forced. “Murdered? By who?”

 

The other officer leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Well, that’s why we’re here. We have a few questions for you.”

 

“Okay,” Cara said, her heart pounding like a hummingbird’s. “Anything I can do to help.”

 

“Did you see your husband at all four days ago?” the first officer, who had a porn mustache, asked.

 

Devin led Cara to the armchair and sat on the armrest next to her, his arm lying across her shoulders. “I told them you two were separated, but that he was still legally your husband.”

 

Cara nodded, understanding that Devin was offering her an alibi. He was giving her a way out. “Umm… four days ago… no, I didn’t.”

 

“Okay,” the officer said while his partner wrote everything down in a small notebook. “Where were you?”

 

Cara took a shot in the dark, hoping her story would match whatever Devin had told them. “I was here.”

 

“So, you’ve been staying here for a while then?”

 

Devin cut in again. “I told you already that she has been staying with me for a few weeks.”

 

The officer sighed. “I know, sir, but we’d like to hear it from the lady.”

 

Cara echoed Devin. “I’ve been here almost two weeks.”

 

“Why weren’t you staying with your husband?”

 

“As Devin said, we were separated. My husband was abusive and a gambler and a drunk. It wasn’t a good combination. I wasn’t safe in that house,” Cara said.

 

“Do you have any idea who would want to hurt him?” the officer asked.

 

“I’d start with the countless people he owed money to or the men he got into fights at the bar with. There weren’t too many people who knew Daniel and didn’t want to at least rough him up a little. I can’t say I know exactly who would want to kill him, but it’s not a stretch to think that someone out there might have wanted to,” Cara replied.

 

The officers asked her more questions about Daniel’s gambling and drinking, but they didn’t question her any further about her alibi, and Cara hoped that was a good sign. After twenty or so minutes of questioning, the officers both rose to their feet in unison, as if they’d rehearsed it that way.

 

“Thank you both for your time. We will be in touch if we have more questions. Just…” The officer made a long pause, looking pointedly from Devin to Cara. “… make sure you stay in town and are available.”

 

“Of course, officers,” Devin said, showing them to the door and smiling as they left.

 

Cara kept a fake smile plastered on her face until the door was closed, and Devin turned to her, saying only one word.

 

“Shit.”