Quinn stood up, then set Devra on her feet even as Trevon got to his beside them. He grabbed them each by the hand and pulled them back up the hill.
“Where are you taking us?” Devra asked with a sly smile that was outrageous given how well he’d fucked her earlier.
“We’re going home.” He marched straight for his house and hoped they realized that he meant they’d be staying together at his place. Now, their place. For the foreseeable future.
Sharing their lives, not only his bed.
He prayed this wasn’t the dumbest decision he’d made yet. It would wound him a hell of a lot more than some broken bones if he lost Trevon and Devra now.
24
Devra kicked back in the swivel chair that had become her outpost in the Hot Rides office over the past several weeks. It had been almost a month since the day she and Quinn had sex in the garage and everything had changed between the three of them.
It was the first time in years, maybe ever, she could remember feeling so…peaceful and relaxed. Comfortable in her own skin and where she was in life. She had a best friend who was her husband and another who was her lover. Plus, she’d spent a lot of time with the Hot Rods ladies, who supported her as she figured out how to navigate the complex relationship they’d landed themselves in.
They were back on track with their savings and financial goals. Someday not too long from now, they’d be able to afford the legal and filing fees for her green card. They even had a consultation scheduled for two weeks from now with a lawyer Tom had recommended.
Trevon had asked her last night if she still had dreams of finishing school and opening her restaurant. Those had been impossible not too long ago. She’d let them wither and die because it was less painful than constantly being upset that they were out of reach.
And now…both Quinn and Trevon had revived those aspirations and helped her believe that anything was possible. She figured it was true what people said… If you gave up when everything was miserable, you’d stay at your lowest point and never find your way to a better place.
She smiled as she watched Quinn and Trevon collaborating on some of the few remaining details of the Indian restoration. Sally had dropped off the fuel tank, fenders, and some other stuff Devra didn’t know the names for, freshly painted. The woman was as talented as she was a good friend. The bike looked clean, fresh, and definitely less than eighty years old while maintaining its original design and style.
Trevon was going to look so good riding it. He’d be grinning as he remembered the badass his pop had once been and followed in his footsteps or tire tracks. Especially if he had Quinn riding next to him. They made her mouth dry and other parts of her wet without even trying. Not only because they were sexy, but because they were competent, kind, and untamed.
She was willing to admit to herself after living together with them these past weeks that she loved them.
Both of them. And she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual by the way they looked at her and touched her. This had been the hottest summer of her life and it had barely gotten started.
Damn. She shifted in her chair.
Devra had to distract herself, so she picked up the appointment book Gavyn and Quinn had relied on for so long and started inputting some of their chicken scratch into the simple program Amber had installed on the shop computer. The woman was a business guru, so it must have killed her that her husband refused to implement a lot of her suggestions, until now.
Amber had thanked her and full-on kissed her on the cheek when Devra had offered to help the guys get their shit together. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, while Amber was busy running her own company. Besides, it gave her ideas about how to organize her restaurant…someday.
“What’re you up to in here?” Quinn asked as he dropped off his notes on the service he’d performed. She’d type it up for him so the customer could actually read what it was he was charging them for.
“You know, just tidying up after you guys.” She shook her head. “The usual.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very neat.” Quinn crossed his arms with mock offense.
It was true—he kept his house spotless, and his tools were organized as well as a surgeon’s instruments. She pointed to the garage bay through the large glass window separating the spaces. “Maybe out there. Not in here.”
“This is bullshit paperwork.” He waved it off.
She laughed. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you have me.”
“Do I have you?” he asked. Slivers of his insecurity showed through every once in a while. She and Trevon were doing their best to prove to him that they weren’t going to abandon him. He was part of them now, at least as far as she was concerned.
“You do.” She stood then and put her arms up around his neck.
His hands flew to her waist, keeping her steady and close.
Behind him, Trevon had glanced over as if he had some kind of sexdar. He grinned and flashed her a thumbs-up. So Devra went onto her tiptoes and kissed Quinn sweetly.
No hurry. No desperation.
Only gentle, reassuring affection. She and Trevon had conspired to show him over and over that they cared. Maybe soon he would realize what he was coming to mean to them.
Lost in the sweet kiss, she didn’t hear any approaching vehicles. The jingle of the bell on the door startled her. She broke apart from Quinn with a lurch that left him holding nothing in his hands. He blinked, his eyes filling with sorrow.
She’d have to fix that later. After she dealt with the customer.
A man stood on the welcome mat, thick arms crossed, legs spread apart as he shot them a disapproving frown from his craggy better-days face. The disgust in his stare was apparent.
Devra decided to ignore it and added extra politeness to her voice when she said, “Hello. How can I help you?”
“Where’s Gavyn?” he barked.
Okay, rude. But whatever. “I’m sorry, sir. He’s not available right now. May I take a message?”
His beady black eyes narrowed. “What kind of accent is that?”
Devra paused. “Excuse me?”
“I know a sand monkey when I see one. I come to this shop because the guys who own it are red-blooded Americans and I can be sure I’m giving my hard-earned cash to good people. Guess not anymore. Fucking traitors.”
Shock caused her knees to bend and she plopped back into the office chair at the front desk. Sure, some ignorant people had shunned her and mistreated her in more subtle and hurtful ways since she’d been in this country. But rarely before had she faced such blatant and barefaced hate on sight or sound simply for where she came from.
“You won’t be coming to Hot Rides for jack shit anymore.” Quinn stepped in front of Devra. He planted his boots in a wide-set stance. The silver skull ring on his finger glinted in the sunlight when he balled his hands into fists. His tattoos seemed to come alive as the muscles beneath them bunched and flexed. “You’re not welcome here. I suggest you leave before I do something we’re both going to regret.”
About that time, Trevon opened the shop door. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” Quinn and Devra said in unison.
“This fuckface was about to leave.” Quinn pointed toward the door, but the guy couldn’t resist one final parting shot.
“It’s illegals like you taking all the jobs in Middletown.” The man shook his head, revulsion twisting his features into something so ugly Devra could hardly stand to look at him. “What a shame. I thought this place was better than that.”
“What the fuck did you just say to my wife?” Trevon snarled as he advanced, stopped only by Quinn putting a hand on his chest and keeping him at bay.
The man looked at Trevon’s ring finger, then to Devra. “Figures she’s yours. Do you know your boss man is taking his fill of her, too?”
And that was all Quinn could stomach, apparently.
“Get the fuck out of here, you racist, closed-minded asshole.” Quin
n grabbed the man by the collar of his plaid shirt and hauled him to the front door, which he kicked open before flinging the man out into the parking lot.
The man tripped over his brown construction boots and landed on his ass. He scrambled to his feet, but slunk away instead of coming back for more.
“It says a lot when you’d rather have people like them than people like me in your establishment. I’ll be leaving a review that says so on all the internet sites, too. You’ll be lucky if I don’t sue you for putting your hands on me.” The guy dusted himself off as he rose. He spit on the ground before climbing into his pickup truck and squealing out of the driveway.
Devra deflated. Pure adrenaline and indignation melted into fear, agony, and embarrassment.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Quinn turned and rushed to Devra.
Trevon was there, too. He lifted her from the chair and wrapped her in his arms. Of course he understood. He’d faced people’s groundless revulsion himself plenty. It was one of the things that had attracted them to each other. They understood what it was like to be…other.
She hadn’t realized she was trembling until she was sandwiched between the solid bodies of Quinn and Trevon. They held her and rocked her until her shock turned into grief. No matter how hard she worked or what the circumstances were, there were people in the world who would mistreat her simply because of where she’d been born, or Trevon because of the color of his skin.
Fuck that. They weren’t worth less than anyone else.
Even though she knew that, it was still hard not to sometimes listen to those lies. Today was one thing, blatant and easier to dismiss despite the shock and pain the encounter had caused. Other times it was more subtle and ultimately more painful.
These beliefs were so ingrained in people’s subconscious that they didn’t always even realize they were adhering to them. Instead, they ignored the suffering of their fellow human beings, blaming the victim for their unfortunate situation instead of circumstances. Having lived on both sides of the fence, Devra knew what a difference head starts and privileges she’d taken for granted before made.
Quinn hadn’t had exactly the same experiences, but he’d never turned a blind eye to their suffering. He’d offered her and Trevon a hand up so they could be productive. He’d invited them into his life as surely as Trevon and his family had welcomed Devra alone.
One day, maybe their love and compassion—and that of others like them—would outshine the shadows in the world. But until then, she was glad to have the sanctuary of these two men’s open arms to take shelter in.
“Fuck this.” Quinn seemed as overwhelmed as she felt. “We’re taking the rest of the day off. Let’s go home so I can remind you both what I love about you.”
Devra’s heart skipped a beat and Trevon’s arms twitched against her. She looked up at him and flashed him a watery smile. It was happening. They were becoming one unit like they’d hoped they would.
Together, the three of them could face the world, including the ugly parts.
25
Devra breathed deep, enjoying the scent of the woods surrounding Hot Rides and the wildflowers that were in full bloom in the tall grass at the edge of the trees. It was beautiful, tranquil, and definitely her happy place.
Hot Rides had become her happy place.
Anywhere Trevon and Quinn were would be fine, but this…this was paradise.
She took her time strolling down the long, winding driveway to the mailbox. It was another one of those daily rituals she’d taken on to make herself feel useful. As she passed by Gavyn and Amber’s house, she noticed the other woman standing out on the porch, so she waved.
“I’ve got some tea brewing,” Amber called. “Fresh doughnuts, too. Stop by on your way back if you want.”
“Of course I want!” Devra laughed and picked up the pace a bit.
She made it to the cluster of three black boxes with flames painted down the side—courtesy of Sally, she was sure—and opened the door for Hot Rides. She scooped out bills, catalogs, and coupons before moving on to Gavyn and Amber’s. Might as well since she was already there and planning to hang out and chat with Amber for a while.
Next she opened Quinn’s. They only had one address for the two cottages, but it didn’t matter because she and Trevon never got any mail anyway. The cottages had solar power and were hooked into water and sewer through the garage, so they paid their share of the utilities directly to Gavyn. They hadn’t lived there long enough to get their own junk mail either.
So it surprised her when a crisp business envelope in Quinn’s box had her name on it.
What the hell?
She glanced at the return address and saw an official-looking seal along with the words US Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Suddenly, her appetite for strawberry-filled doughnuts vanished.
The letter flapped in her shaking hands, making it harder to rip open the back of the envelope. But when she did and pulled it out, she began to read.
All the other mail she’d been clutching in the crook of her left arm fluttered to the ground and scattered. She went numb from head to toe. For a second, she considered running. Where would she go?
She had nowhere, nothing, and nobody else but Hot Rides, Quinn, and Trevon.
So her feet began to move, then move faster. Before she knew it, she was sprinting with the poor letter crumpled in her pumping fist.
“Devra!” Amber shouted as she raced past, but she didn’t stop to explain. Couldn’t really since she didn’t understand what it meant.
So she kept going to the only safe harbor she knew.
The familiar whir of power tools drifted toward her as she approached the shop. Even that comforting noise couldn’t calm her racing heart right then.
“Trevon!” she shouted as she neared. “Quinn!”
The guys came running out to meet her, their long legs making quicker work of closing the gap between them than hers. From the door of the office, even Gavyn poked his head out to see what the ruckus was all about. They’d been on edge since that hostile customer had verbally assaulted her.
Trevon and Quinn intercepted her on the lawn, frowns and concern clouding their handsome faces. She couldn’t even breathe enough to explain the problem.
“What’s going on?” Trevon asked.
“Letter. From Immigration.” Devra thrust it out so he could read it and explain to Quinn, too.
“They’ve scheduled a mandatory interview with her.” Trevon scanned it again as if reading it a second time would change the ominous tone and sick feeling those words planted in her gut and probably his as well.
“But…you didn’t resubmit her green card application yet, did you?” Quinn double-checked, although they’d talked about their intended timeline the night before.
Trevon shook his head. “We almost have enough. A few more weeks, probably, before I’ll have the fee. I’m sorry.”
She hugged him in an attempt to smother his remorse, then said, “I know. We’re working on it. But…then, why? Why do they want to talk to me? Why not us together? Have we waited too long to apply? Did I break some rule we don’t know about?”
“Fuck! I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. The laws are complicated as fuck. As far as I know, there’s not a time limitation. But I’ve been wrong before.” Trevon started pacing, his brow furrowed as he read the letter again and again, just like she had.
No matter how much he stared at it, he wouldn’t find the answer to their questions. She hadn’t.
“It’s probably nothing, guys.” Quinn stepped between them and grabbed each of them by the wrist. He pulled them together and put his arms around them both. “I hate to see you freaking out like this over a stupid letter.”
“If something’s wrong…these days…” Trevon cursed. “They could send her home. Deport her. And we wouldn’t be able to do shit about it. People, like that fuckwad that came in here a few weeks ago, they’re stirring up misplaced aggression, and innocent survivors like Devra
are paying the price. This is bad. Really bad.”
“Devra’s not going anywhere,” Quinn promised Trevon, his voice steely. Then he looked down at her. “You’re not going anywhere. Neither of you are.”
“I have a bad feeling about this, too,” Devra said around the lump in her throat that was threatening to cut off her breath. “Something’s not right.”
“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do: I’m going to talk to Alanso. He’s dealt with this stuff before. He’s from Cuba and his mom had…issues with the process. He knows a lot about this shit. Maybe he even knows of a lawyer we can hire.” Quinn was too busy finding a solution to notice Devra and Trevon’s faces falling.
“We can’t afford—” Devra began before Quinn cut her off with a kiss. It was desperate and hard, but it kept her from saying it.
“We can.” He gestured between the three of them. “You are my people now, like you keep saying that I’m yours. I will fight for you as hard as anyone else I consider my family. Like Roman fought for me. I’m going to call.”
Devra wanted to believe him. Except she knew that no matter how hard he battled, he couldn’t possibly win against the government or popular opinion. If they kicked her out, she’d have to go.
She’d lose Trevon, Quinn, her happy place, and—quite possibly—her life.
26
Quinn flew along the twisty road that linked Hot Rides and Hot Rods. He set a new personal best time for traveling the distance between the shops. Panic clawed at him. Things had been going so well, he should have known it couldn’t last.
He pulled up to the garage, skidding the last few feet, and jumped off his motorcycle practically before he’d come to a complete stop. With his stomach in knots, he strode into the shop and looked around frantically for his brother.
“Hey Quinnigans.” Nola smiled and meandered closer with her arms open for a hug.
He needed one, but he was afraid to take it in case he lost his shit. So he backed away and shook his head. “Where’s Roman?”
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