Devil You Know (Lost Boys Book 1)

by L. A. Fiore

  I felt the chain around his neck and pulled his dog tags free. My heart ached as I brushed my finger over them. I lifted my gaze to his. “Please be safe. The only thing worse than a life without you, is a world without you in it.”

  A tear rolled down Damian’s cheek and that lone tear decimated me. I wiped it from his cheek and brought the finger to my lips. “Remember me like this. Just like this and know I’m remembering you.”

  He kissed me, the most poignant kiss of my life.

  He left not long after, my heart going with him. That night I prayed for the first time since I was a little girl. I believed when you wanted something badly enough you had to be willing to give up something you loved to see it happen, so I vowed that night that I would give up the dream of a life with Damian and in return all I asked was that he be kept safe.

  Bullet gave the silent warning, we’d all come to learn his body language. The number of times that German shepherd saved our asses was more than I could count. He was a hell of a soldier. Matthew, his handler, called him back and we hunkered down until the threat was gone. I’d made it into the Green Berets; my team spent six months out of the year in Afghanistan doing special reconnaissance. We spent a lot of time behind enemy lines. Our missions were clear, we were to stay undetected and avoid combat as we gathered intel. I had always been quiet, but I’d learned to be really fucking quiet. We were on our way back to base camp now after an op and that was always the part that scared the shit out of me…being so close to safety. Anything could happen and had. Bullet kept us out of sight, warned us when enemies were approaching. We’d wait them out even when most of us wanted to engage…orders were orders.

  I’d met a lot of good guys. Some were here to fulfill their ROTC obligations; some were lifers, and a lot had families at home waiting. I’d learned it was possible to do both, maybe not ideal, but it was possible. Four years it had been since I saw Thea. I knew she was well, that she had graduated last year and was still looking for the job. I thought about her every damn day. I pulled out the picture of her. I could spend hours looking at her picture and that letter she had sent. She nearly broke me with that fucking letter. The paper was worn from the amount of times I’d read it. We were heading back to North Carolina for leave, I was now stationed at Fort Bragg after becoming a Green Beret; I was taking my leave in New York though. Thea and I needed to talk. Bullet nudged Matthew the all clear. I tucked Thea’s picture away.

  It was hot as fuck here and the sand and dust…I would die a happy man if I never saw fucking sand again. Summers in North Carolina were hot as hell as well, but that was a reprieve to this oppressive heat.

  A few hours later and after a debriefing, I was off to the showers. We’d been gone for a week. I think I could sleep for a week after I ate my body weight in food. I didn’t even make it half way to my destination when the commotion started.

  Matthew came running up behind me.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Firefight in the village.”

  I ran with him to the waiting Humvees. “Locals?”

  “Fucking power struggle.”

  As if there wasn’t enough shit going on, local crime lords used the unrest to make power plays and they didn’t care if civilians were gunned down during their grab for control.

  Poverty, I’d never seen anything like it. Children living with so little, the constant threat of being gunned down by stray bullets and yet they could play, smile and run to us when we rolled into their rural villages. Today was different though. The mud houses themselves weren’t burning, but flames were shooting out of the windows. Screams and the smell of burning flesh carried on the wind. It wasn’t a smell I was familiar with before coming here and now it was one I’d never forget. The local tyrant had been escalating to this. The building used for the school was where the villagers huddled in times of trouble. That was one of the buildings burning.

  “Son of a bitch,” Matthew hissed at my side.

  “There could be survivors.” I was already on the move. Staying low, sweeping for threats, my finger on the trigger of my rifle. Matthew had my back, covering me as I covered him. Bullet barked. There were survivors.

  It took three hours to get the survivors to safety, another few to help put out the fires. By the time we returned to base I was moving on fumes. I didn’t even shower, went facedown on my bunk and slept for the next twenty-four hours. And even being exhausted, both physically and mentally right before sleep claimed me, it was Thea I thought of.

  It had been a year since we graduated from NYU and Kimber and I had clicked so well as roommates that we now shared a one-bedroom walk up in Chelsea. Cam had found us the place. Kimber won the coin toss for the bedroom. My bed was a daybed sectioned off from the living room and kitchen by a decorative screen. During the day, while Kimber pounded the pavement looking for an entry-level position in marketing, I was submitting my art to agencies in the hopes of getting a position in graphic design.

  Cam had gone right into the Academy after graduation and was now a cop. He often worked with Dad on cases and I was a bit envious that they got to see so much of each other. But Dad and Cam’s station was in my neighborhood, so even though I didn’t get to spend the day with them I did join them for lunch often. We were at Dahlia’s, my favorite little neighborhood bistro. Dad looked tired. He put in long hours being a detective, far longer than he ever had as a beat cop. And seeing Cam in his blues wasn’t a sight I was used to yet.

  Once we were seated and our orders placed, Dad asked, “Any luck on a job?” I was doing busy work to pay the bills, but I had yet to find the job.

  “Not yet. I did get a request from a new author to help her design a book cover.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of that kind of work when I applied for positions, but I’m finding it challenging to realize her vision through design. How are you? You look tired.”

  Dad reached for his water. He had recently turned sixty. He looked young for sixty, but I didn’t like seeing the stress lines around his eyes. “Detective work is exhausting.”

  “Are you thinking about retiring?”

  “I still have a few more years in me, plus I get to see your brother in action.” Dad teased Cam but there was pride in his voice. He loved that Cam was a cop, a chip off the old block.

  “Did you hear that Damian is coming home next week for a visit? My best friend, a decorated Green Beret, unreal,” Cam announced.

  It had been four years and I waited on news about him like a greedy child. I had done as I promised and no longer held onto the hope of Damian and me together, but I needed to know he was safe and well. I had a whole new appreciation for the spouses of servicemen and women and their families. It took a special kind of person to not only put their life on the line for their country, but for those loved ones who stood on the sidelines supporting even while fearing that dreaded call.

  I wrote to him, every day. Shared every part of me in those letters. I even addressed and stamped them, but I never mailed them. It was how I coped with letting him go when my heart demanded to have him close.

  “Mom will want to make him dinner,” Dad said.

  “Yeah. She’s already planning the menu. You’re coming, right Thea?”

  I wanted to go to dinner because I wanted to see him, but it seemed wiser to stick to the status quo, so I hedged. “When?”

  “Next Saturday.”

  Then I lied. “I have plans.”

  “You can’t change them? You haven’t seen Damian in four years,” Dad added.

  “I really wish I could.”

  Neither of them bought my lie but I was saved from a grilling when our food arrived.

  Kimber and I were on the hunt for the perfect cup of coffee. The large coffeehouse chains were great, but we wanted something more intimate. A new place had opened in the neighborhood, Cup of Joe, and we were on our way to investigate.

  “You’re being ridiculous.” Kimber had spo
ken those very words at least twenty times since learning I was blowing off the dinner with Damian.

  “I’m not ridiculous.”

  “It’s been four years.”

  “I still love him but the situation hasn’t changed and seeing him will only bring it all back.”

  And that was the truth of it. I wanted to see him, but I had finally managed to tuck my feelings for him away, stored them in a figurative box much liked Dad’s special box in his office. I loved Damian, I would always love him, but I had learned to find happiness without him. It seemed stupid to stir it all up, to open that Pandora’s box and let all those emotions out only to have to wrangle them back in when he returned to his life overseas.

  Kimber studied me for a minute. “It will force you to feel things you don’t want to feel.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Love scares the shit out of me.”

  “Love hurts, but those magical weeks when Damian and I were in sync…I doubt I’ll ever feel that way again.”

  Kimber’s eyes looked a bit bright but she had moved on because we had found Cup of Joe. “We’re here.”

  As soon as the door opened, I knew we had found heaven on earth.

  “Holy shit. Do you smell that?”

  The combination of rich, roasted coffee and something buttery and sinful wafted out to us. “Oh yeah.”

  It was a small place and the tables were tightly packed together. We reached the counter and were greeted by an auburn-haired woman about our age.

  “Hi. What can I get you?”

  “Everything,” Kimber said before she looked at me for confirmation then said again, “One of everything.”

  The woman didn’t know what to make of Kimber’s order, so I added, “We’re serious. One of everything.”

  “Looks like I’m closing up early today. I’m Ryder Chase. The owner.”

  “Thea Ahern and Kimber Green, coffee drinkers and pastry eaters. We’re on a mission to find the best damn cup of coffee in the city and if your coffee tastes as good as it smells, we just have.”

  She stopped bagging up the pastries and stared at me. “You’re not kidding.”

  “Ryder, I suspect we’re going to become fast friends, so let me state right now. There are two things I do not tease about—coffee and sweets. Both are like a religion to me.”

  “That is true,” Kimber added.

  “Good to know.”

  “If you’re really closing early, maybe you’ll join us so I can pick your brain on how you made the sweets we’re about to enjoy.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  Ryder’s smile came in a flash, but lingered before she said, “I think you’re right, Thea Ahern. We’re going to become fast friends.”

  My own brother outmaneuvered me. I had successfully dodged the dinner with Damian. A week later, Cam invited the girls and me out with him—as predicted we bonded to Ryder like a long lost sister. Accepting his invitation was a no-brainer, but what he had failed to mention was that Damian was still in town and would be joining us.

  The girls and I were already at the club. Even feeling nervous and apprehensive about the evening, it didn’t keep me from arriving early. “I can’t believe my own brother set me up.”

  Aren’t you curious to see him?” Kimber asked.

  “See who?” Ryder asked.

  “Her ex is coming tonight. And by ex I mean the love of her life who left and stayed away.”

  Ryder’s eyes widened. “You must be curious.”

  “Of course I’m curious and scared to death.”

  “Why?”

  When we reconnected that one Thanksgiving it was still there—that memory was one of my very favorites—but four years had passed. A lot could happen in that time, people changed and I was afraid we had changed. I would rather cling to what had been than live with what was. “What if it’s not the same?”

  Ryder simply replied, “What if it is?”

  My phone buzzed—Cam. They were parking. I was going to throw up. “I need to use the ladies room.”

  “Do you want us to come?”

  “No you stay. You can introduce Ryder to my brother.”

  Kimber grabbed my hand before I could walk off. “We’re here for you.”

  “And I have a feeling I’m going to need some girl time after tonight.”

  After the restroom, I stopped at the bar and ordered a double shot of Irish whiskey. A little liquid courage couldn’t hurt. I savored the burn and the phony confidence that followed. I turned toward the table and immediately forgot how to breathe when my eyes landed on Damian. Every cell in my body recognized him even though he was so different from the boy I knew. My legs went a little weak as I reached for the bar top to keep my balance. He was home; so close I could touch him.

  I had studied up on the Green Berets so I knew of the rigorous training that turned their bodies into another weapon in their arsenal. The t-shirt Damian wore hugged his massive frame, snug over his wide shoulders and muscled chest; his faded jeans hung from his narrow hips. His black hair was buzzed, which only brought your focus to his pale eyes, eyes I saw every night in my dreams. Nerves kicked in…excitement, anticipation and apprehension.

  “I need another double,” I called to the bartender as my eyes lingered on Damian, I also witnessed Kimber and Ryder’s reaction to him—eyes bugging out of their sockets, tongues dropping. I totally got it.

  “Here you go.”

  I reached for the shot and kicked it back but I wasn’t feeling numb yet. I needed to feel numb. “I think I need one more.”

  She grinned as she filled me up again. “You’re not going to drink it away.”

  Bartenders were rumored to be very astute and she was no exception. “I know. I’m just looking for courage.”

  “Have you found it?”

  I felt a bit light-headed, definitely giddy and oddly relaxed despite the fact that the love of my life was just across the room. “Yes, I believe I have.”

  “The shots are my treat. Good luck.”

  I took a deep breath and steeled myself for the encounter. “Thank you. I’m going to need it.”

  I slowly made my way back to the table and realized I probably should have waited between shots because I was beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey, and damn that stuff was potent. My legs turned all rubbery but at least the stomach twisting nerves had faded. I felt ten feet tall and bullet proof. Damian saw me first, his eyes sought me out like a heat-seeking missile and my body responded, preparing for something that wasn’t going to happen again.

  “Thea?” Cam reached for my arms. “Are you alright?” He asked this because I sort of stumbled into the table. I was not a graceful drunk.

  “I am right as rain. What does that mean anyway? Right as rain. I don’t get that expression.”

  My eyes connected with Damian’s and even through the protective barrier offered by the alcohol, that box opened and all the feelings came flooding out. The magnitude of them had my voice dropping to a soft purr. “Hi.”

  “Thea.”

  Even swimming in Irish whiskey, his greeting hurt. Hi was our thing, it was how we greeted each other. A hi that meant so much more than hi. I didn’t get my hi. And feeling belligerent that he denied me a hi I amended my greeting, “Damian. At least we remember our names.”

  Kimber’s jaw dropped.

  “I’d ask if you wanted something to drink, but it seems you’re several drinks ahead of us.”

  “That I am, Anton. Irish whiskey, Dad’s favorite. Strong stuff.”

  Damian walked off and I watched him go because his ass in those jeans was what dreams were made of. Kimber wedged herself between Cam and me before she whispered, “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know. I had three double shots, so I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I am and I’ve never been drunk before. I like it.”

  “It feels good n
ow. Tomorrow, not so much.”

  “I leave myself in your capable hands, Kimber. All the times I got you home safe, it’s your turn to deal with me.”

  “Done.” She leaned closer. “And Damian. Holy fucking hell. If he wasn’t the love of your life, I’d do him right here.”

  And for some reason I found that hilarious.

  Damian returned with a pitcher of water and bread. He poured me a glass then wrapped my hand around it. “Drink.”

  “If I drink, I’m going to have to pee.”

  “Drink, Thea.”

  “Fine.”

  I drank that glass and the two others he foisted on me and as expected, I had to pee ten minutes later.

  “I’ll go with you,” Ryder offered.

  She pulled me away from the table, but I looked back and leveled my best ‘I told you so’ face on Damian. “I’ll be peeing all night now. I might as well set up a table in the ladies’ room.”

  Ryder yanked my arm almost out of its socket. “Ouch.”

  “You’re an idiot. This is the first time in four years you’re seeing that incredible specimen of a man and you’re drunk.”

  “He’s probably congratulating himself on his escape.”

  “I don’t know if I should take you home or join the fun,” Ryder said.

  “Join the fun. It isn’t likely I’ll be getting this stupid again anytime soon, but I have to say. I’m enjoying not feeling.”