Devils Don't Fly

by M. H. Soars

  OLIVER

  What the fuck just happened here? I keep staring at the front door minutes after Saylor burst out of it. We’ve never had such an ugly argument before, not even when she was hiding stuff from me. Rubbing my face, I walk to the bar, needing a drink to calm down.

  Maybe I should’ve talked to her about buying the Jenkinses’ property first. She’s my wife, after all. I just got so caught up in Harry’s excitement that it didn’t even occur to me to check with her. It is a lot of money, but I already promised Harry I’d get the property for him.

  The anger leaves my body as the whiskey flows down my throat. After the second glass, I’m thoroughly aware of how much of an asshole I was to her. Putting the glass down, I make a beeline to the door. I need to apologize to Saylor.

  I hear Felix before I even head out. The dog’s running back to the house, but there’s no sign of Saylor.

  “What is it, boy?”

  He barks and circles me, but it isn’t the usual happy greeting. Something’s off.

  “Where’s Saylor?”

  Felix takes off in the same direction he came from, and I have to run to keep up with him. He disappears through the cluster of trees that surrounds the property, taking the path that leads to the tree house. Moments later, he stops next to Saylor’s sprawled form on the ground.

  I feel the ground vanish beneath my feet. “No!”

  Running the rest of the distance, I skid to a halt, kneeling next to her. I touch her face with shaking hands, her skin cold to the touch.

  “Sugar, talk to me.” I pull her onto my lap, laying my face against her chest to make sure she’s breathing.”

  “Ollie?”

  “Saylor, oh thank God. You’re not dead.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I found you on the ground. Did you fall?”

  She sits up, rubbing the back of her head. “I think I did. I was climbing up the tree when everything went dark.”

  I touch the spot she just rubbed, trying to see if she has a bump. I find nothing.

  “You fainted. That’s it, we’re calling Doctor Laurent. Maybe he can recommend a specialist in London.”

  “I’m fine, Ollie. I haven’t had any migraines.”

  “Sugar, please. Don’t fight me on this. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

  “Okay, fine. Perhaps the family doctor can come by.”

  I would rather she saw a specialist, but seeing any doctor is better than nothing.

  “I’m freezing. Can we go home now?” she asks.

  I help her stand, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, sugar. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “I’m sorry too.”

  “I don’t want us to fight about my brother.”

  “I don’t want to fight either.”

  I stop to look at her face, searching for signs that she might be getting sick again. Her eyes are red and puffy. I made her cry. I feel like such an asshole.

  Touching her cheek with the back of my hand, I say, “You’re my whole life, sugar. You’ll always come first. Never doubt that.”

  Thirty-Six

  Oliver

  We head to London the next day to meet Allan and the band. I had invited Harry to ride with us before my argument with Saylor, but I’m relieved he had other plans and will meet us in London later. After yesterday’s fight, it’s best if Harry isn’t around. I can see now that I haven’t been handling this new situation well. Truth is, I’ve kept Saylor at arm’s length as I tried to rebuild my relationship with my brother. I forgot for a moment that my relationship with her is also new and fragile.

  We talked about it last night after our make-up sex marathon. No shouting, no accusations, just two adults having a sensible discussion about serious shit. It took me a while to accept that my last decision wasn’t remotely smart. I’ve decided to speak with Charles about it, ask him to find a way for Harry to buy the Jenkinses’ property himself.

  I think Saylor and I are good. I want to believe we are, anyway. The last thing I want is to fight with her over money.

  The first stop is my apartment in SoHo. I figured I would fly back to the UK often, so I’ve kept it. It’s smaller than the house in Hermosa Beach, but big enough for two people.

  “Welcome home, sugar.” I open the front door, allowing her to enter first.

  Saylor’s never been here before, and I made sure to tell her that. All memories we make here will be brand new, not replacements. Her steps are deliberately slow as she takes in the dark living room. Nothing soft or cheery about it; it’s a bachelor pad through and through.

  She reaches the black leather couch, running her hands over the butter-soft surface before glancing my way. “This is nice.”

  “Let me show you the bedroom. It’s even nicer.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh, you don’t say.”

  Chuckling, I take her hand and bring her to the master suite, where the focal point is the brand-new bed I bought online a couple of days ago. This place has been a revolving door, a center of debauchery really. God only knows how many women slept in my old bed. I wanted something that would be ours alone.

  Saylor sits on the edge, bouncing on it as one does when shopping for a mattress. When she reaches for something on the corner, I realize it’s the store tag. The fool who installed the bed forgot to remove it.

  “So, did you go shopping for house goods without me?” She smirks.

  “I wanted to surprise you. It was all done online.”

  “Uh-huh.” She lies down on the bed, crossing her hands over her stomach. “I’ve never shopped for a mattress online, but this one feels divine.”

  Closing her eyes, she sinks further into the bed, burying herself in the soft pillows that take up most of the top section. I join her in the next second, hovering above her body, my forearms braced on each side of her head, effectively caging her in.

  “You know what else feels divine?” I settle my nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling Saylor’s sweet scent.

  “What?” she whispers softly, arching her back.

  “My cock buried deep inside your sweet pussy.” I capture her earlobe between my teeth, tugging it slightly.

  Her soft moan of pleasure makes my cock twitch inside my pants. I make sure she knows exactly how she’s making me feel, thrusting my hips against hers. Her arms go around my neck as she opens her legs to better accommodate me.

  “This feels so nice. Do you think we can keep our clothes on for just a little bit?”

  “What are you saying, sugar? Do you want to dry hump?”

  “Yes. Is that crazy?”

  “Nope, that’s kind of hot. I don’t think I’ve ever done it before.”

  “What? Are you saying all of your make-out sessions led to sex?”

  “Pretty much.” I chuckle.

  “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  “Thirteen?”

  “Oh my God. You were such a perv!”

  “I was seduced by an older lady. It was a very Mrs. Robinson situation.”

  “What?”

  “I’m just kidding. She was fifteen.”

  Saylor’s expression relaxes, but now she’s made me curious. “How about you?”

  “I was a late bloomer. I didn’t trade in my V-card until I was a senior in high school.”

  I thrust my hips again, making a little circle motion this time. “It’s okay, sugar. I won’t hold your lack of experience against you. I’ll teach you some moves.”

  “Teach me—”

  Her eyes narrow and I know she has some sassy reply on the tip of her tongue, but I silence her with a kiss. Then all I hear is her sweet moans, urging me to go on.

  Dry humping might not compare to the real deal, but I wish I’d discovered it sooner.

  The girls and Allan are staying at a boutique hotel in SoHo. We meet them for drinks there at the rooftop bar. There’s a visible change in Saylor when she reunit
es with her friends. Not that she was sad before, but she shines like a beacon now that she’s surrounded by her bandmates. Something stirs inside my chest, an ache that wasn’t there before. They were apart because of me, because Saylor chose to stay and support me through my hard time. It’s high time I get my act together.

  I make the decision then—we’re going home as soon as Wreck of the Day is done with this last-minute promotional trip.

  Allan has secured a large table that can accommodate all of us. After all the hugs and hellos, I lean back in my seat, throwing an arm around Saylor’s shoulder to bring her closer to me. Everyone’s eyes turn to us.

  “So, the lovebirds are back,” Remi says with clear pleasure.

  “We sure are.” I kiss Saylor’s cheek.

  “I knew it was only a matter of time. I’m so excited to be here. It’s my first time in London,” Remi exclaims.

  Not counting Saylor, Remi is my favorite of the bunch. Not that I don’t like Tabatha or Sticks, but Remi is just so full of joy all the time. Plus, she was the biggest cheerleader for my relationship with Saylor from the start.

  The drinks keep flowing and we order appetizers as Allan fills us in on the schedule for the next couple of days. The girls have a couple of interviews lined up, plus studio time. Allan could’ve gotten them a TV interview with a studio performance, but I knew Saylor wasn’t ready for that.

  I haven’t felt this relaxed since I came here. I’m thoroughly enjoying myself when my phone vibrates, Harry’s number flashing on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Oliver, where are you?”

  “I’m out with Saylor and the Renegades crew.”

  “Oh, I thought I was supposed to meet you at your place. I’m standing in front of your building now.”

  “I texted you. You didn’t get my message?”

  “No.” His answer is blunt, and I get the feeling he’s pissed.

  “No worries, mate. I’ll give you the address. Hop in a cab. We’re in SoHo, not too far from my place.”

  “I don’t have money for a cab,” he says through clenched teeth.

  His reply gives me pause. I gave him over three hundred quid the other day. Perhaps I need to have a talk with him about money management; it’s obvious the Jenkinses weren’t financially savvy.

  “I’ll pay for your bloody cab. I’ll text you the address. See you soon.”

  I end the call before Harry can say anything else.

  “Problems?” Allan asks.

  I finish my drink before I reply, feeling the weight of Saylor’s gaze on my face.

  “No, mate. It’s all good. Just miscommunication.”

  “Was that Harry?” Saylor asks.

  “Yes. He didn’t get my message that we were coming here. He went to my place instead.”

  “I don’t know how you didn’t have a nervous breakdown when Harry came in announcing he was alive. That’s stuff doesn’t happen in real life,” Remi says.

  “Oh, I don’t know. You’d be surprised by the number of unbelievable things that happen to regular folks,” Sticks replies, and I think it’s the first time she’s opened her mouth this evening.

  Allan turns to her, not hiding the fact that the pretty brunette has captured his attention. I guess the alcohol’s lowered his restraint.

  “You got any stories, Elisa?”

  “What? Did you just call her Elisa? No one calls Sticks by her first name,” Remi says.

  Sticks, for once, doesn’t look away. Instead, she stares at Allan. “Nope. No stories. But I bet you have some, Allan.”

  Neither of them speaks or breaks eye contact. It’s like they’re lost in their own world. Jesus, when did their relationship turn this charged? I’m getting hit with secondhand sexual tension. They need to get a room and take care of that. Or better yet, maybe Saylor and I can get a room.

  My phone pinging reminds me that I can’t do that right now. Harry just said he’s here and will be up soon. I guess he found money to pay for the cab after all. I stand and walk to the entrance of the bar, wanting to speak with him first before I introduce him to the rest of the crew, clear the air around us.

  He’s already at the door when I cross the busy open area, wearing clothes that I know cost a pretty penny. No wonder he has no money left. I’m irritated once again. He’s an heir, but he hasn’t received his share of the inheritance yet. Plus, I don’t think he’ll get a lot in cash. Most of the estate is properties. All the money I’ve been giving him is my own, earned with my work.

  “So, where is everyone?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

  “Hello to you too, brother. They’re at table over there. I didn’t want you to have to look for us. What do you want to drink?” I start walking toward the bar. It’s packed, but I manage to find an opening to squeeze through and flag the bartender. It’s a bird, so getting her attention is almost effortless. She recognizes me on the spot.

  “Oh wow. Oliver Best, Britain’s most infamous bad boy, is in the house. What an honor.”

  “Hello, darling. How are you this evening?”

  She leans forward, squeezing her boobs together and making sure I have a great view of her rack. “Now that you’re here, much better.”

  I turn to Harry, ignoring her. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Do you have Cristal?”

  The woman freezes, then blinks a couple times. I also stare at Harry, thinking he’s lost his mind. Only douchebags would think to order that in a bar. What’s wrong with hard liquor?

  “Oh, I don’t think so. But I can check.”

  “Never mind. Just give me the most expensive whiskey you have, neat.”

  “All right, and you?” She turns to me.

  “Same.”

  Once the bartender turns away, I glance at Harry, noticing the Rolex on his wrist.

  “New watch?” I ask.

  “I’ve always wanted one. They’re pricey, but I guess I shouldn’t be thinking like that anymore, huh?”

  “No. On the contrary, you should always be cautious about money.”

  “Why? I’m wealthy now. Counting pennies is beneath me.”

  The bartender returns, placing our drinks in front of us. In good time too, because I’m about to lose my cool with Harry. Something I definitely don’t want to do. The last time it happened, I thought I’d killed him.

  I practically chug my drink before I feel ready to have a serious talk with my brother. We probably shouldn’t be doing this now, but the longer I postpone it, the worse Harry’s spending habits are going to get.

  “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about the Jenkinses’ property.”

  “What about? Did you already put in an offer?”

  “No. I spoke with Charles Cowley instead. He’s the executor of our father’s will. I asked him to see if he could find a way for you to buy the property with your inheritance money.”

  Harry stares at me without blinking, but I notice his jaw clench. After a few seconds of silence, he says, “I thought you were going to buy me that property. I thought it was a gift.”

  “I never said it was a gift.”

  Harry faces the bar and takes a sip of his drink. He’s not happy about it, which nags at me. Saylor’s words come to the forefront of my mind, that she never would’ve allowed me to spend so much money on a gift for her. That much is true. Yet Harry expects me to do so.

  “I guess you didn’t, I just thought…. Never mind. I suppose that means you’re not going to give me any more money, right?”

  “Not if you’re going to blow it on silly things like expensive watches and clothes.”

  His stare is filled with disdain. “Oh, I don’t see you shopping at secondhand stores.” The venom in his words shocks me. Saylor’s right, I don’t know my brother at all.

  “I worked for my money.”

  “I suppose you did. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a spoiled brat. I guess I’ve lived so long not having anything that I got carrie
d away. I won’t be able to pay for anything tonight, though.”

  “No worries. I got you covered.”

  “Shall we join the group? I’m kind of excited to meet the rest of the band. They’re hot.”

  “Sure. Let me pay the tab first. We have a different one at the table.”

  I signal the bartender and she comes running with a big smile plastered on her face.

  “May I have the bill, please?”

  She pouts, trying to play the seductive role. “Leaving me so soon?”

  “Yes. I miss my wife already.” I smirk.

  Her eyes are as round as saucers. “So you’re still married? I thought your wife died.”

  The amusement drops from my lips, the careless comment pissing me off. “No, she’s not dead.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t keep up with tabloids much.”

  She runs my card and I sign the receipt, but leave no tip. It’s vindictive, and I don’t fucking care.

  “She didn’t mean to harass you, Ollie.” Harry comes to her defense as I stride away from the bar.

  “She thought I had lost my wife and was already coming on to me. That’s disgusting.”

  “I’m sure you can get any woman you want. Why marry?”

  I stop in my tracks and turn to Harry, leveling him with a glare. “I don’t want any woman. I want Saylor. She’s the only one for me. That’s why I married her.”

  “So, you would never cheat on her?”

  My nostrils flare and my hands turn into fists at my sides. I’m angry beyond reason. How can Harry ask me that question after we spent a weekend talking about Saylor, about how devastated I was to almost lose her?

  “No. I would never cheat on her.”

  “Okay, okay. No need to go mental.” He raises his hands in surrender.

  From where we stand, we can see our table, so Harry walks ahead of me. I stay rooted to the spot, frozen for a few seconds as I try to reconcile the sweet boy I remember Harry to be with the callous man in front of me.