I've been cleaning this same spot on my counter for the last ten minutes. My house has never been so spotless and dust free. And all because Devon Mayfield is the biggest asshole to ever walk this earth.
He said it would be a couple of days. I was okay the first three. By day four and five, I started calling and texting, becoming upset, crying over the man that made me open my heart to him once again. He made me fall in love with him, with the man who he is now, not the boy I used to love. I drowned my sorrows in tubs of ice cream at night and tried to hide my hurt from Zane. By day six, and now seven, I've grown angry and formed an obsession with cleaning to deal with my frustration. Eleven years ago is repeating: no returned calls, no word from him, and no one has told me anything.
Audrey hasn't returned to work yet, and when she answers the phone, she refuses to tell me what's going on. To top off this shit-tastic week, Brad has decided to start calling and texting. I answered the first call and let him apologize for what he said, but now he’s becoming stalkerish.
I thought I had prepared myself for the chance Devon could disappear again, but nope, I'm shattered as much now as I was then, if not more. And this just goes to show that I did the right thing in keeping Zane away from his father. The asshole doesn’t deserve to be in his son’s life if he can simply vanish like that again. Shit hasn’t changed at all.
There's a knock on my apartment door, cutting through my angry thoughts. I huff loudly and throw the rag down on the counter. I walk over and open the door, surprised to see Jacey standing here. "How do you know where I live?" I ask more harshly than I intended.
She shrugs. "It wasn't hard to find out. Can I come in?"
I take a deep breath. "If this is about Devon, I don’t want to hear it. You can go tell him to fuck off and stay the hell away."
She drops her eyes for a moment, and when she lifts them to mine, she has tears pooling. "Did you know he delivered mine and Bear’s son?"
My brows furrow. I shake my head.
She nods. "Yeah, we became close after that. We have a bond that goes deeper than just friends, ya’ know? And usually, I can pull him out of the darkness."
I interrupt her, "What are you talking about?"
A tear trickles down her cheek. "I've tried. God, I've fucking tried for a week now." I reach for her arm and pull her inside, shutting the door behind her. "He came back before the others, covered in blood. I don't know what happened, but something went wrong. Mullins got killed. A few of the others are wounded: Romeo, Hunter, and Pretty Boy."
My hand flies to my mouth and tears spring forth. “Oh, my God,” I whisper. That's why Audrey hasn't come back. "Mullins, that's his friend from the Army? The one I tattooed?"
She nods.
I breathe out, "Shit."
"Doc hasn't left his room in a week, Daphne. He won't eat, he hasn't showered. He's still wearing his friend's blood. I can't pull him out this time. I'm scared he's going to do something." She becomes more frantic with each word spoken. "You have to help him!" She wipes her tears away, and my own are falling now. He's not the biggest asshole to walk the earth. I am. “You’re the only one who can. At least, I hope you can.”
"I thought he disappeared again," I sob, "I've been hurt and angry with him. Thought horrible things about him.”
She shakes her head. “He wouldn’t leave you again. You didn’t know. All that matters right now is getting him better.”
“Let's go!" I don't bother grabbing anything or locking my door as I run out of my apartment with Jacey right behind me. Zane is at my parent's house, thankfully.
I climb into the passenger seat of Jacey's Tahoe. She peels out of the parking lot, and I grow more anxious by the minute the closer we get to the compound.
The usual forty-minute drive from my apartment takes her fifteen, and I'm practically jumping out of my seat as she parks.
I follow her through the clubhouse and to Devon's bedroom door. I put my hand on the knob, about to turn it, when Jacey's hand lands on my shoulder. I snap my head in her direction.
"Before you go in there, I have to warn you. Turn the light on and if he comes at you, move quickly."
I try swallowing the lump that has taken root in my throat. What the hell am I walking in on? Taking a deep breath, I release it, and slowly open his door. Before walking in, my hand searches the wall until I find the light switch and flip it on.
Devon is sitting at a desk his back toward me. "Devon?" I question quietly, keeping my voice calm.
He doesn't acknowledge me or move.
I close the door behind me and take a few steps closer. "Devon?" I try again.
Still nothing.
Standing beside him, I peer down at the desk. My eyes widen in shock. He's twirling a pistol with his hand and blankly staring at the wall.
"Devon, what's going on?" My lip quivers, but I try to hold back my emotions.
He barely twitches, but it's enough. I saw it.
"Put the gun away, Devon," I sternly demand.
"You need to leave, Daphne." He continues staring at the wall.
I stand firmly in place. "I'm not leaving, Dev. Talk to me."
He moves so fast. He's on his feet, staring me down with tear-filled eyes, the gun against his temple. "This is what I wanted to keep from you!" He shouts at me, shaking his head. “I told you I was fucking broken! I’m so fucking damaged, there’s no hope for me.”
My back hits the wall as I lose my footing. Tears stream down my cheeks. "Devon, please," I beg.
He cries harder, "I'm sorry." His eyes are resolved. "Take care of our son. I’ll love you forever, Daph." He pulls the trigger.
"No!" I scream, my eyes screwed shut.
“Fuck!” He yells out.
My eyes quickly open at the sound of his voice and I realize the gun jammed. I run over to him, throwing my arms around his waist and we both fall to the floor. Sobs rack both of our bodies, and his arms wrap around me. We hold each other tightly as we cry rivers of tears.
I reach behind me, take the gun from him, and place it on the floor, pushing it away from us. Minutes or hours later–I’m not sure how long–we have shed the last of our tears. Devon lays down on the floor, his arms still wrapped tightly around my waist, his head on my thighs. I take this chance to really look at his profile.
Black circles are deep around his eyes, his cheeks are a little sunken in from lack of eating, but his facial hair is trying to hide just how skinny his face really is. He's dirty from not showering, dried blood coats his skin, and his hair is greasy and unkempt.
"What happened to you, Dev?" I ask quietly.
"The shit I saw over there. The shit I had to do, it fucked with my head, Daph. It changed me. I knew I couldn't be around you and have you see me like this." He takes a deep breath and continues, "I'd be dead if it wasn't for Mullins, and I was supposed to protect him this time, but I didn't. I promised his wife he'd come home, and he didn't. It's my fault, Daphne. It's my fault that my best friend is dead. I tried to call Christy and find out when his funeral was, but she said I wasn't welcome."
I sigh heavily. "I know how close you two were, and I believe you would have saved him if you could have. I don’t believe it was your fault, Dev. You wouldn’t let someone you love die if you could prevent it."
"I need help." He begins crying again.
"I'll help you. I promise." I run my hand through his dirty hair, not even caring at the moment. I just want to comfort him, let him know that he’s not alone. "I'll make some calls and see if we can get you in somewhere."
"Thank you." He hugs me tighter.
A few stray tears fall down my own cheeks. "I'll love you forever, Dev."
"Forever," He whispers.
"I'm going to make you something to eat, and then you need a shower." He reluctantly releases me. We both stand before he sits on the edge of his bed with his head hung. I walk out of the room, and when I get the door shut, I bend over, taking a few deep breaths. I don't know what higher power was with us today, but I'm so fucking grateful it didn't allow Devon to take his own life. What did I miss? How could I not know he was suffering? He was always so happy when he was around me.
I hold my stomach as I walk out to the bar and over to Jacey. "Can you get him some food? I'm going to make a couple calls and then get him in the shower. He needs help, Jacey."
She nods. "He stopped taking his meds a while ago. I'm here if you need anything."
"Thank you." I sit on a bar stool as she stands.
"No." She grabs my hand in hers. "Thank you." Her lips turn up and she walks away. I pull my phone out of my pocket and do a Google search until I find the number I need.