“If you’d have done that, Justin would use Ryan against you for years,” Stella argued.
“That’s better than losing Ryan permanently!”
Stella squeezed his shoulder. “There’s still a chance, Devon. Please don’t give up yet.”
“But you just said—”
“Listen to me. It wasn’t a good idea to offer Justin money before, but now the situation is different. At this point, if Justin backs out of this appeal, he won’t be able to appeal it again later on. It will be over. Forever.”
Some of the weight on Devon’s chest eased up, and breathing came easier. Thinking came easier. Stella was right—there was still a chance. There was still hope. His hand covered Stella’s, squeezing it. “Thank you.”
Concern showed in her eyes. “What are you going to do?”
“You’re my solicitor, Stella,” Devon said. “So nothing.”
Stella nodded.
“Would you mind telling my parents to take Ryan back to the hotel? Tell them I’ll meet them there later. I need to get away for a while and think.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.” Stella left him with a kiss on his cheek.
As soon as they’d left, Devon pulled out his phone and called Stella’s law firm. He waited while the receptionist put his call through.
“This is Tess.”
“Hi, Tess, this is Devon Pierce, Stella’s friend. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Sure,” she said. “What about?”
“I’m not too far away, would you mind if I stopped by in about ten minutes?”
“I’ll be here.”
⇐ ⇑ ⇒
Devon left Ryan with his parents and jumped on the train. Ten stops later, he exited and traveled the last few blocks on foot, stopping in front of an old, gray rundown apartment complex. No wild larakeets sang from the trees in this neighborhood. The entire street reeked of neglect and had a creepy, vacant feeling. Devon was more determined than ever to do whatever it took to keep Ryan away from Justin.
He rapped loudly on the door.
Then waited.
And waited some more.
Was Justin gone? He rapped again.
Finally, the door swung open, revealing a dark interior and a groggy Justin. It was eleven o’clock in the morning, and the guy had obviously been asleep. Devon wanted to turn the hose on him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” Devon was anything but sorry.
“What I do or how I choose to spend my time is none of your business.”
“Mind if I come in? We need to chat.”
“Yeah, actually, I do mind. You’ve already had your chance to say whatever it is you wanted to say in court.”
That’s what you think. “Trust me. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.” Another apartment door opened, and Devon added, “In private.”
Justin glowered but grudgingly stepped aside.
Devon walked into a disaster. The odor alone made him want to walk out again. It reeked of soiled clothes, rotted food, and cigarette smoke. Several take-out boxes were scattered around, and discarded beer bottles dotted the floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Devon said. “How did you ever make this place look good for the psychologist?”
“A maid service can do amazing things.”
Devon’s fingers clenched into fists in his pockets. Ironically, the only semi-clean place was the small card table in the kitchen. He brushed past Justin and pulled out a chair, gesturing for him to do the same.
Plopping down, Justin said, “What do you want?”
Devon shoved a piece of paper and a pen at him. “I want you to write a letter to the court saying you’ve come to realize that Ryan would be better off with me. You can make up whatever excuse you want, I just want you to be completely clear that your decision is final. You should also probably add an apology to the court saying how sorry you are for causing so much trouble.”
Justin’s arms folded, and he cracked a sneering smile. “You’ve already lost. It’s just a matter of time.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Then why would I write that letter?”
“Because I’m willing to pay you to write it—as well as stay out of Ryan’s life for good.”
Justin laughed out loud. “I wonder what the court will think when I tell them about your offer to bribe me.”
Devon lifted his cell phone and snapped a picture of the apartment. “And I wonder what they’ll think about the state of your apartment. And you for that matter.” He redirected his phone at Justin and snapped another picture.
Justin lunged across the table, and Devon grabbed a hold of his dingy T-shirt. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I’ve had about all I can take of you. But as much as I’d like to use your body as a punching bag right now, I didn’t come here to start a fight. I came here to make a deal with you.”
Devon shoved a seething Justin back into his chair. “Now, we both know you have no intention of marrying Nicole, or vice versa, so let me explain something to you.”
“You don’t know anything,” Justin spat.
“Fine. Let’s talk about the future then. Assuming things don’t work out between you and Nicole, and assuming you get that money from Centrelink you’re after, in February Ryan will be old enough for school, leaving you time to work. That means Centrelink will reevaluate whatever amount they’re paying you and start working with you to find a job. From what I understand, they’re pretty good about checking up on people, but you already know that, don’t you?”
Justin glared.
“In addition,” Devon continued, “Ryan’s not going to stay a child forever. At some point, any childcare payments you receive will stop altogether—which is only half your problem. The other is Ryan. A child isn’t cheap. Clothes, food, school, and extracurricular events are just some of the expenses Ryan will cost you. And if you think for a minute that you can live like you’ve been living—” Devon gestured at the apartment “—and spend as little money as possible on Ryan, you’re dreaming.
“If you win custody, I will move to Sydney, and between Stella and I, you’ll always have someone looking over your shoulder, waiting for the day you mess up. You know Stella well enough to believe she will reopen this case at the first sign of neglect on your part. In other words, if you end up with Ryan, someone will always be watching.”
Devon leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “If, on the other hand, you decide to play the hero and write that letter we talked about, I’ll wire one hundred thousand American dollars into your bank account one month after the case is closed. After twenty-eight days, an appeal is no longer an option, so you’ll understand why I plan to wait until then.”
“And how do I know you’ll follow through on that?”
“You’ll have to take my word for it.”
“Forgive me if I don’t,” Justin scoffed.
“I’m here, aren’t I? You know that Ryan is too important to me to risk your revenge. But as a show of good faith, I’ll have five thousand dollars deposited within a day of the case being closed. The rest you’ll get when I’m certain it’s closed for good. And if I ever see your face again, I’ll have records showing you accepted a bribe. It will look bad for both of us, but mostly for you, so I’d recommend staying as far away from me and Ryan as possible.”
“You think I’d give up my son that easily?”
“Please.” Devon pushed his chair back and tossed an old business card on the table. “Here’s my cell number. You have my offer. If you decide to accept it, text me your account info. As for the letter, you can deliver it to your solicitor and she’ll know what to do.”
Without another word, Devon walked out, leaving Justin to his disgusting apartment.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Devon finished reading You Are Special to Ryan before tucking him under the covers. Tomorrow they would appear in court for the final judg
ment, and Devon still hadn’t heard one word from Justin. The hope he’d felt weeks ago had dwindled and then died, and now Devon was having a difficult time masking his despair.
He had been so sure Justin would take the money—that this entire ordeal would have ended weeks ago. Maybe Devon hadn’t offered enough. Maybe he should run over to Justin’s apartment right then and double his offer. Would it make a difference? Would it sway him?
Large, trusting brown eyes stared up at him. “I want to see Aussie. He misses me.”
Devon brushed Ryan’s hair back. “I know.”
“When can we go home?”
Devon hesitated. “You know we have to go to court again tomorrow morning, right?”
“I don’t want to go. I want to go home and play with Aussie.”
“Just one more day and then we’ll be done, okay?”
“And then we can go home to see Aussie?”
Devon blinked and cleared his throat. He couldn’t let Ryan see him lose it. “I hope so, but it all depends on what the judge says. He might ask you to live with Justin for a while.”
Ryan’s lips trembled. “But I don’t want to live with Justin. I want to live with you and Aussie.” His face crumpled, and he started crying.
Devon felt tears wet his own eyes as he picked up Ryan and hugged him tight, rubbing his back and murmuring, “I know,” over and over. Eventually Ryan quieted down and fell asleep, but the pain still throbbed in Devon’s chest. Would he really have to stand by and watch Ryan get taken away?
His parents, solemn and quiet, were sitting on the couch in the front room. The feeling of gloom festered until Devon wanted to leave the hotel and hit the city streets—anything to distract him from the long night ahead.
Lydia patted the seat of the armchair, and Devon forced himself to sit down. Stella had left only an hour ago, explaining she had some things to get done before tomorrow, and Devon already missed her. He needed to see her, to feel her comforting arms around him and to hear her tell him everything would be okay.
As if reading his mind, his mother’s quiet voice broke through his thoughts. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, it’s going to be okay.” She said it like she was trying to convince herself as well.
Devon nodded but said nothing. He’d never believe that Ryan should belong with Justin. Never. Even Devon’s faith gave him no relief from the darkness and misery that consumed him now. It made no sense that a loving God would prod Lindsay into choosing Devon, only to let something like this happen.
Leaning forward, Devon’s thumb and finger covered his eyes as he wiped at the tears threatening to spill. He wanted to understand, wanted to believe there was a reason, but he couldn’t summon the will to try.
His mother stroked his back, offering a comfort he didn’t feel.
“Your mother’s right, son,” Jack said. “You’ve done all you can do. Now your only choice is to let the good Lord take over. He knows what He’s doing, even if we don’t.”
Devon broke down. His shoulders shook uncontrollably as he cried harder than he’d ever cried in his life. No words could describe the aching pit in his stomach, the sorrow that drowned his soul. He didn’t have the faith to believe it was supposed to turn out like this.
And yet Devon knew it happened all the time. Children forced to stay with abusive parents. Children born into horrible circumstances. Children belittled, despised, and treated cruelly. It had happened to Lindsay. Sure, he could tell himself that there was a reason; that what didn’t kill people made them stronger. But Devon couldn’t wrap his mind around any of it—not now. Not when it was Ryan.
Ryan. His buddy, his champ. The boy who’d traipsed into Devon’s life with his dimple, his charm, and his little Australian accent. The boy who giggled, loved Aussie, tracked dirt everywhere, colored on walls, memorized poems, and made castles for ninjas. The boy who sent balloons to heaven and couldn’t understand why the Southern Cross didn’t appear in the Portland night skies.
The boy who called him Dad.
“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice cutting though his sobs. “I’m not strong enough.”
Jack laid a hand on Devon’s back, speaking through tears of his own. “You’re stronger than you think you are. We all are—even Ryan.”
But Ryan shouldn’t have to be strong enough.
“We’re going to try and get some sleep,” Jack said. “You should too. We’ll see you in the morning.”
His mom kissed the top of his head before they left, and as the door clicked closed, the thick silence of the room screamed in Devon’s ears.
He had never felt more alone.
⇐ ⇑ ⇒
On the morning of the hearing, the weather reflected Stella’s mood. The sky was filled with ominous, swirling charcoal clouds that promised a thunderstorm. Peeking through her bedroom window, she searched for one ray of sunlight. Just one. Stella needed a sign that Devon had a whisper of a chance, that there was still hope. But no sunlight appeared, and she felt suffocated by the darkness. After a few minutes, she gave up, wished the clouds to Hades, and yanked her drapes closed.
In the foyer outside the courtroom, Stella nodded at Devon, Ryan, and the Pierces. Everyone looked as miserable as she felt. Even Ryan seemed to sense the overall mood and stood there quietly, gripping Devon’s hand and looking darling in a two-piece navy suit. Stella wanted to pick him up and take him far, far away where no one could find him.
The courtroom door opened, and Stella followed the others in slowly, glimpsing the room from the eyes of a client rather than a solicitor. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized what a life-altering day this could be for people. Yes, she had sympathized with clients in the past, felt terrible when the ruling didn’t go their way, but now Stella felt true empathy.
Finding her seat, she sat down. Devon’s parents sat a few rows back, holding hands and fighting back tears. Janelle Renning sat quietly and erect, with a bland, unreadable expression. Was she gloating inside? Did Janelle have any idea what Justin was really like? Did she know what she had done?
Stella’s fingers tightened around the pen in her fingers. She couldn’t seem to look at anyone without becoming emotional in one way or another. Reaching for Ryan’s hand, she held it tightly in her own, not daring to meet Devon’s eyes.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And for the first time in her career, Stella hated the law.
Where was Gerald? He should be here by now. Justin was nowhere to be seen either, which gave Stella some relief. She couldn’t handle looking into his cold, dark, and triumphant eyes. Maybe he’d been hit by a car and wouldn’t show up at all. If only.
Several minutes later, Gerald arrived out of breath, like he’d been running. “Sorry I’m late,” he breathed.
“Everything okay?” Stella asked.
“Traffic.”
A deep voice asked them to stand for Federal Magistrate Dover.
The magistrate entered briskly, took his seat, and scanned the courtroom. His gaze rested on the table where Janelle sat. “Where is your client, Ms. Renning?”
Janelle stood and lifted her chin. “Justin won’t be coming today, Your Honour. I told him he needed to be here, but he insisted that the letter we delivered to you would be sufficient to excuse him today.”
Stella’s heart pounded as she stared at Janelle. What letter? What was she talking about? She waited anxiously for the magistrate to speak.
“He should have been here regardless of my decision.”
“I know, Your Honour, but I couldn’t force him to come,” Janelle said.
“I could reschedule this hearing, you know.”
“Yes, I know. But nothing I said would convince him to come.”
What’s going on? Would the judge really postpone the hearing? Please no!
The magistrate’s eyes shifted to Ryan before resting on Janelle once again. “This case has dragged on long enough, so we will proceed with the decision. Your client, however, will be assesse
d a fine of one hundred dollars for thinking he knows better than the law. Mr. Wells filed the appeal, he should have been here.”
“I understand, Your Honour. And thank you.” Janelle said.
“Very well, then. Let’s not waste any more time.” The magistrate slid on a pair of reading glasses and looked down at the papers on his desk. “Yesterday, I received a letter from Justin Wells stating his intent to withdraw from the case. I don’t understand why, nor did I appreciate the short notice.” He glanced meaningfully at Janelle over the top of his glasses.
When she offered a solemn nod, he returned his attention to the papers. “That being said, I’ve since revised my orders. They are as follows: That the child, Ryan Caldwell, live with the respondent, Devon Pierce, permanently, and that the applicant, Justin Wells, have no parental responsibility for either day-to-day or long-term issues relating to the child . . .”
Relief and joy burst through Stella’s body, drowning out the magistrate’s voice. She couldn’t believe it. Justin had actually withdrawn, even if he’d waited until the last day to do it. He’d probably delayed on purpose, hoping to get back at Stella and Devon. But none of that mattered now. It was over.
Finally.
Stella blinked away tears as she pulled Ryan into a hug. Over his head, she met Devon’s eyes. A smile stretched across his face and she grinned in return, wanting to throw her arms around him as well.
When the judge finished speaking and dismissed them, Devon pulled Ryan to his lap. “Did you hear that, kiddo? You get to live with me forever. We get to go home.”
Ryan’s dimple was back. “Forever?”
“And ever,” Devon said, holding him tight.
Lydia ran to them and wrapped her arms around Ryan and Devon. “I don’t believe it. I mean, I know you offered Justin—”
“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Devon interrupted with a smile. “And neither do you.”
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