by A. C. Arthur
So as he watched the soap running in thick rivulets down Bonner’s back, slipping through the crack of his taut butt cheeks, he’d been excited. Damn him, he’d gotten hard as stone at the sight. He’d silently cursed and held his phone up to take the picture anyway. A few steps to the left, he’d moved and adjusted the phone in his hand. Donovan had been standing with his back away from Bonner. They were at least ten feet apart, which could be considered respectable in a public shower stall. Another snap of the camera and he knew he had the makings of one great shot.
The extra minutes he’d waited were spent watching Donovan’s perfectly toned body as the guy stood under the shower head. Water pelted against his chest, rolling down further and further. In that moment his fingers gripped the camera tightly as he imagined himself gripping a specific part of Donovan. Damn, he was going to come if he stood here one second longer. Then they would notice him and that bastard Bonner would try to pummel him again, like he had last night. No thank you, he thought and reluctantly pulled his gaze away. He’d left that day with every intention of editing those pictures he’d taken into one shot and spreading it around not only to their team, but the others in the area. But something had happened that night. Carl had been killed and he’d been left alone. There’d been no point to the pictures by then, nothing else to fight for.
Not until Bonner crossed him the second time.
As he moved to the table in his hotel room he removed the memory card from his camera and slipped it into the USB portal on his computer. The pictures began to download. While the download was still working he used his phone to type in the email address he would send the pictures to once they finished downloading. He was ready to send his next message, ready to let Bonner know he wasn’t backing down. Not this time.
Chapter 10
“I thought we’d decided not to go to the cemetery,” Bailey said as they sat in the car.
They’d been driving for over an hour by now and it had already begun to get dark outside. She’d grown tired of watching the wipers going back and forth across the windshield, pushing away the light fluffy snow that fell in steady succession. The east coast was expecting some severe winter weather in the next few days so this dusting was just the beginning. Unlike her brothers, Bailey actually enjoyed the snow. There was a serenity to watching it fall and lay prettily along the tree branches or pile up on sidewalks and cover cars. However riding through it during the night on her way to a cemetery was a bit eerie.
“I told you Dane sent me an email requesting we meet him at the cemetery at eight o’clock,” Devlin said, his hands gripping the steering wheel casually.
He wore jeans again today with his black boots. The difference in his attire was the light blue button front shirt that Bailey could tell he wasn’t entirely pleased with having to wear. She’d smiled to herself as she noted Camille’s attempts to soften the monotony of Devlin’s usual all black attire. She also admitted to herself that she was liking the change. Much more than she probably should have been. With a sigh Bailey looked out the side window, watching a few other cars pass by before she decided to speak again.
“Yesterday when you kissed me in the garage I told you that whatever was going on between us was not “nothing”,” she began.
Devlin continued to drive, showing no emotion or even any indication that he was actually listening to her. But Bailey knew he could hear her and she’d decided earlier today that before she could walk away from whatever they had going on, she wanted to at least get some things off her chest. She hadn’t had the chance to do that with Stewart. Well, actually, she had, but since Bailey also understood that Devlin’s relationship with Trent made him more like a family member, she was very aware that even if they weren’t going to sleep together anymore, she was likely to still see him at some family functions. For that reason she figured it was best to clear the air now.
“We’re adults, Devlin. If we can tear each other’s clothes off and have wild and kinky sex, then we can certainly talk about what those actions mean,” she said.
He still did not reply.
Bailey continued, “Eight times,” she told him. “Since Savian and Jenise’s wedding, we’ve been together a total of eight times. We’ve never been on a date, unless you count two nights ago at the pub. I don’t know your middle name and you have no idea what my hobbies are. I think it’s safe to say that up until this moment what we were doing could be classified as us being sex partners and nothing more.”
Devlin eased the car into a left turn and continued to drive. The snow had picked up a little, so he switched the wipers onto a higher speed.
“As these last months have been filled with turmoil for me and my family, I have to admit that I didn’t think too much about what we were doing at the time.”
Not until now, Bailey thought. Now, she didn’t feel like it was right. Something deep down in her said she needed more. That she deserved more and so did Devlin.
“Things are different now, Devlin. I was kidnapped. I could have been killed.” She sighed heavily. “As much as I hate to admit it because I don’t want to give that woman any credit she doesn’t deserve, but Roslyn and her antics have changed my life. Those hours sitting alone and tied up gave me too much time to think. To evaluate and consider. To wonder,” she said.
He continued to stare forward at the road.
“What’s your middle name, Devlin?”
He waited. Almost too long for Bailey’s liking, but finally he did respond.
“Edward,” he said, but did not look at her.
“When’s your birthday?”
“August 15th.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine.”
“Do you want children?”
Silence.
She should have known the Q&A was going too well.
“Your birthday is September 9th,” Devlin said before Bailey could think of another response. “You like to watch DVDs with old episodes of Sister Sister and Family Matters. You like to work out at the gym but you avoid the treadmill. And despite your outward appearance and your serious line of work, you like kinky sex. You like it very much.”
He made another turn then and Bailey slid a little in her seat because she hadn’t expected his response or a quick movement of the car.
“I only like kinky sex with you,” she admitted.
Why she shared that tidbit of information, Bailey didn’t know. But it was true. The things Stewart had wanted to do in bed were disgusting and made her feel dirty, which always led to her backing away from him and declaring a headache. Of course this then led to him being more paranoid about her cheating on him. It was a sick little circle those two ran for way too long. That, she knew for certain was the difference between her time with Stewart and her time with Devlin.
“I don’t do flowers and romance,” he said gruffly.
“I don’t either,” she replied. “My mother loved flowers. All different types. My father used to have them delivered to the house all the time. I remember the fragrance wafting through the kitchen and living room every day. I think that makes me feel like flowers are for her, you know.”
“And I’m not taking advantage of you,” he continued.
Bailey shook her head. “You’re not. I’m here of my own free will.”
“Trent thinks I am.”
“Trent thinks that about any man who dates any of his female relatives,” Bailey said. “He’s biased.”
Devlin shrugged. “He knows me better than you do.”
“Well, whose fault is that?”
“We’re here,” was Devlin’s next comment as he pulled the car onto a parking lot and moved into an available spot.
Bailey figured that was the end of their conversation. She wished it weren’t so and wondered if she should take the lead and ask Devlin out on a date. When he stepped out of the car and closed the door, she realized how silly that was. Devlin was all about this issue with her family. He didn’t do romance so why wou
ld she think he’d want to go out on a date with her. No, he hadn’t said the words, but Devlin gave the impression that he was perfectly content with them being just sex partners.
He was opening the passenger door when Bailey frowned at her thoughts. She was not happy being just sex partners and the sooner she made that clear, the better.
“We have to walk down this hill to get to where he’ll meet us,” Devlin said as he continued to hold the door open, waiting for her.
Bailey got out of the car and pulled the puffy white jacket she wore closer together. She also had on boots, this time with chunky rubber soles, and jeans. She’d left her hair curly after her shower, holding it back from her face with a thin black ban. After a couple of steps she pulled on her hood and then proceeded to follow Devlin through the parking lot. There was a double gate at the end of the parking lot. Bailey suspected this was where the hearse and cars would drive to the gravesite after a funeral. She recalled they’d had a very long line of cars when they’d entered the Brookefair Park Cemetery in Houston, a long time ago. The day they’d left her mother’s body in the Donovan Mausoleum.
Devlin walked through the gates first and Bailey followed him, taking a deep and slow breath to keep her emotions in check. Her mother had died a long time ago and this was not where she was buried. Her child had died much more recently and there had been no burial for the baby. Bailey’s hands shook as she stuffed them into the pockets of her coat and continued walking.
When they came to the hill Devlin had mentioned, Bailey was prepared to keep going. But Devlin had stopped. He took the couple steps that had separated them and came to stand beside her. His dark gaze held hers as he reached down and pulled one hand out of her coat pocket. Holding it tightly, Devlin led them down the hill, his stride much slower than it had been before. Bailey moved cautiously down the hill as well, the blades of grass were slippery with the new snowfall.
They both came to a stop the moment they saw him.
Dane wore a long black coat, the cuffs of his dress pants and the tips of his tie up leather shoes dusted lightly with snow. His hands were thrust into his pockets, his legs slightly spread, head bowed. Bailey didn’t need to see the name on the headstone in front of him to know who it represented.
Devlin gave her a questioning look.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
She was shaking. Bailey had no idea when it had started, but her entire body was trembling as she stood there in the dark cemetery. She shook her head in response to Devlin’s question instead of attempting to speak. Her voice was likely to crack as tears had already formed in her eyes. So much for getting her emotions under control.
“Jaydon was four years younger than me,” Dane began speaking without turning to greet them. “We lived with a man named Sylvester Yankin for two years before my mother had her second child. I remember sitting at the end of her hospital bed, watching as she held this little person in her arms. She smiled down at the baby, a genuine smile. I didn’t see those very often. My mother was not a happy woman. I knew that even when I was supposed to be too young to know.”
Devlin and Bailey moved closer and still, Dane did not turn around. Bailey had no idea why Dane had called them out here and neither did Devlin. If it were some sort of set up, they were like sitting ducks out here in the open and no back-up to summon even if they found the time to make a call. Devlin had his gun tucked in the back of his pants. He also had a knife in the scabbard attached to his left leg. He’d given Bailey a gun as well and that was tucked securely in the back of her jeans. Now that she was thinking about them being sitting ducks, the weight of the piece was pressing into the small of her back offering her a semblance of security.
“We moved out of Yankin’s house when Jaydon was a baby. I don’t know what happened between my mother and Sylvester. She simply came to my room one morning and told me to pack my clothes in the suitcase she dropped in the middle of the floor. I did what I was told. My mother is not a woman to be crossed. Jaydon was two by then and I was six years old, but I knew that. I knew it with a creepy dark certainty.”
Bailey remembered hearing Roslyn’s voice while she was in the cabin. The cool and precise way she gave orders said she expected those orders to be followed, or else. Whenever Orin attempted to question what Roslyn had said, Jaydon would jump in and assure Roslyn that her will would be done. Apparently she knew her mother was not to be crossed as well.
“She did a good job raising us,” Dane continued. “When I was young I never knew how she managed it because she did not work. But we lived in a nice brownstone in Brooklyn. We went to private schools and we had clean clothes and lots of food on our table. Christmas was filled with toys and laughter, while New Year’s Eve was always fraught with my mother’s crying and things being slammed around in her room. She would emerge two days later, just in time for us to return to school from the winter break with a cheery attitude and kisses for both of us.”
“She loved you,” Bailey said on impulse.
“I first realized she was sick when we came back from summer camp the year I was going into the ninth grade. The house was in shambles. All the curtains had been shredded, the couch slashed and its stuffing ripped out and the legs to all the dining room chairs broken. In the kitchen all the dishes and glasses had been shattered and tossed onto the floor. Everywhere I stepped I crunched more glass. All the food was gone and the electricity had been turned off. Upstairs, however our bedrooms had been untouched. The door to my mother’s bedroom was closed and locked. She apologized that day and two days after that we moved to Boston.”
“Your uncle said she has a personality disorder. That she should be on some type of medication,” Bailey added.
Dane lifted his head then. He still didn’t look at them, but now he was staring forward. “Jaydon was a happy child. Always. She didn’t seem to feel the vibes our mother put off at times. Either that or she tried to ignore them. When she finished high school and went away to college I was so happy for her. I wanted her to get away from our mother. I knew something was wrong with Roslyn but she was my mother and I felt responsible for her. So once I finished high school, I worked full time and went to college. I started paying our bills. I started taking care of our mother. Jaydon was safe as long as she was not around. That’s what I thought.”
He took a hand from his pocket and brought it to his face where he squeezed the bridge of his nose. Bailey let go of Devlin’s hand and went to stand closer to Dane.
“One minute Jaydon was doing well in school and the next she was married,” Dane continued. “I flew to Miami immediately after my mother told me. And when I found out who she’d married…”
He shook his head.
“She married Parker so that your mother could get closer to our family,” Bailey stated.
It was horrible. This whole situation was simply horrible and at this moment Bailey wasn’t sure who had been hurt the most. Her, her siblings and cousins, or Dane and Jaydon.
“I told her she shouldn’t have done it, but Jaydon was insistent. She said the Donovans owed us and it was time they paid up. She said we were always supposed to be a part of their family and now it was legal. I knew about my mother’s claim that I was a Donovan. She gave me the last name and told me when I was very young that one of them was my father. I researched and found out about all six of them. I knew their family and business history. Everything. But I never wanted anything from them that they weren’t willing to share with me as a genuine member of the family.”
“That didn’t stop you from buying those shares in the company,” Devlin said.
“No,” Dane replied with a shake of his head. “It didn’t. That was a business decision. It showed me and them that they weren’t paying enough attention to something else that was supposed to matter to them. I always wanted to know who my father was and I was going to get them to tell me, after they realized I owned part of their company. If they wanted their shares back they were going to have that DNA t
est done and they were going to tell me what I wanted to know. What my mother desperately needed to know. But then Jaydon was married to Parker and it wasn’t working out. My mother wanted Jaydon to get pregnant. I went to Jaydon again and insisted she get out of the marriage. I told her that if she did not tell Parker who she was and why she’d married him, I would.”
“Parker said they made a mutual decision to break up,” Bailey added.
Dane shrugged. “Seems college boy wasn’t ready to be committed. I didn’t feel any sympathy at all when Jaydon told me that a few weeks later. But she got to keep her job. She stayed in the family and that encouraged my mother. I knew then that I had to move faster to find out who my father was because with that divorce my mother changed into someone I had never known before. I thought I was making progress but—”
“But she had Giovanni Morelli killed. She attacked Bruce and Reginald’s houses,” Devlin said.
“Yes,” Dane replied. “When Jaydon called me to pick her up that night I had no idea what was going on. Not until she got into the truck crying about someone being dead.”
“But you didn’t call the police. What type of man does that?” Devlin asked.
Turning then, to face Devlin once again, Dane replied, “The type of man that wants to protect his mother and his sister.”
“Well, Jaydon’s gone now,” Devlin said. “And Roslyn, well, the Feds are after her. This may not end the way you want it to.”
Dane moved quickly then, closing the space between him and Devlin. They were both tall and formidable men, facing off like sworn enemies about to participate in some type of duel, as their only means to settle this dispute.
“What kind of man do you think I am?” Dane asked. “Do you really think I’m going to sit back and let you kill my mother?”