by Lara Norman
"I know we agreed to meet here, but this wasn't what I had in mind." John looked at a bloody Vince sprawled on the floor. "You should have learned your lesson the last time he kicked your ass."
Olivia opened the office door all the way. "I have it on video, officer. That guy started it." She pointed at Vince and held her phone out to John.
"It's sergeant, and thanks for this." He set her phone on the counter and kept one hand on Devon's shoulder as an officer began the process of arresting Vince.
"I told him to leave. I made her hide and call you, and I told him more than once to leave. He charged me," Devon ranted. He watched an officer lead Vince to a patrol car, blue and red lights revolving. Vince shot him a look of pure hatred before he got into the vehicle.
Devon gulped in air, flexing barely healed knuckles which had split open yet again. He realized he was crying and turned away from Olivia. "He wanted my help. Can you believe that?"
John stood quietly and let Devon get it out of his system.
"Said it was an accident and if I would just tell everyone that, he could get probation and stay out of prison. It's my fault, apparently, that his life has gone to shit." He wiped his palms over his face, frustrated that everything suddenly made him cry.
"It began as an accident, and then it morphed into malicious intent. He backed his work truck into her, Devon, and knocked her out. Her head wound came from the bumper. He thought she was dead because she was unconscious and her temple bled so much."
"Head wounds bleed more," Devon murmured. His stomach churned. Vince thought he'd killed Hailey. Devon thanked God all the time that she'd lived.
"He panicked and drove around looking for a place to hide her body. He was never planning on telling anyone what he'd done." John glanced at Olivia. "Pull up the video for me, yeah?"
She did as he asked and handed the phone back over. Devon didn't watch, but he listened to the words. He heard the betrayal and hurt in his voice and the pleading bullshit in Vince's. He heard the scuffle and the sickening sound of flesh ramming into flesh as he beat the shit out of Vince.
"Well, his bail has been revoked for his conduct. He'll stay in county lockup until his trial is over and he's sentenced." John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wish I had some clever words for you, but I don't."
"I don't think anyone does. There's no way to make sense of this."
"No, I don't think there is."
Devon stared out the window as the wind whipped through the barren trees. He couldn't come to grips with why Vince would do what he'd done and, even worse, why he thought Devon was to blame for the consequences to his actions. He struggled to picture the years he'd been friends with Vince and how he'd missed the signs of a man with deep mental deficiencies. He didn't blame himself for Vince's actions, but he sure as hell blamed himself for overlooking the type of man Vince truly was deep inside.
Chapter Fifteen
Even as he did it, Devon knew it was wrong. He left the house, left his Hailey, and drove to the bar downtown. There was a never-ending buzz in his ears and an anvil on his chest. He needed to feel numb, and he wouldn't find that at home. Sitting on a barstool, he ordered a drink, doing his best to dredge up the void he’d utilized after they’d found Hailey. At that point in time, he’d known how to stuff the overwhelming anger and sadness down deep, and he yearned for that to come back to him.
The burn of the drink slid down his throat, settling in his gut. Staring at the wall of bottles and tuning out the surrounding noise, he ordered another. The cacophony drifted away until nasty thoughts consumed his brain. He had known Vince for most of his life. He’d been his friend, his companion, his confidant. They'd shared so much of life’s difficulties. Devon didn't think Vince had an actual, diagnosable mental health issue before October. He had no idea if it could manifest in the middle of committing a crime, but he sincerely doubted it could be the case.
More alcohol would wash away the bitterness of betrayal. He gave it a try, not minding the odd look from the bartender as he slurred his request. Somehow, he had to find a way to escape from reality. It used to be he didn't enjoy the taste of anything other than the occasional beer, but now he slammed back shot after shot in an excellent imitation of an alcoholic.
“Hey, buddy, lemme call you a cab.”
Devon attempted to focus on the face in front of him. It wavered, split into two, then rearranged itself back into a solid form. “No thanks. I gotta car.”
“No way I’m letting you drive home.”
Devon just smiled as he tipped back the glass in front of him. Nothing came out, so he shook it over his open mouth.
“I’ve cut you off,” the two-headed man said.
Devon snorted. “I can drink at home,” he sneered. But when he tried to get up, his legs wouldn't support him. Bewildered, he sank to the floor.
“Look,” the bartender said as he came around the bar to help Devon up. “I’ve seen your face on the news. I know who you are. I can help you get home.”
“Home,” Devon slurred, “is not my home anymore.”
“What?” He squatted to help Devon up and back on the stool.
“Mommy and Daddy to the rescue,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“You’re staying with your parents? Dr. McMillan is your mother?”
“Yep.” Devon nodded so vigorously he thought his head would bobble right off his shoulders.
The man sighed. “Don’t move. I’m calling a cab.”
Devon slumped forward until his forehead rested on the bar. Thoughts rotated through his brain, but most were too fleeting to make sense. There was one though; one that stuck. Vince needed to die. Devon needed to kill him. Hailey would be fine with her grandparents.
“She’ll be fine,” he said as he picked up his head. The room spun around him.
“She sure will,” the man replied.
DEVON WOKE TO AN EARTHQUAKE rocking his bed and sunlight streaming into his eyes. He groaned and rolled over.
“Mornin’, buttercup.”
“Go away,” Devon moaned.
“No can do. Get your ass up.”
He rolled to his back as the mattress shook underneath him. The light scalded his eyeballs when he tried to focus on his cheerful brother. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Somebody left their car at the bar last night because they thought it would be fun to get drunk. So we’re going to go get it. And then I’m going to strangle you,” Caleb said in good humor, sitting on the edge of the bed and bouncing up and down.
Devon groaned another time. “Keep that up and I’ll puke on you.”
Caleb laughed. “Come on, I made coffee. Mom is at work already, and Dad went to the grocery store with Hailey. Get your sorry ass up.”
Hailey. Devon could be glad she wasn’t home to see him in his hungover state, but he’d still failed as a parent. The night before, he’d only thought of the pain and how to drown it, not of the daughter who needed him. He pushed at Caleb until he got off the bed and went into the bathroom. In order to wake himself up, he took a cold shower, then he joined Caleb downstairs after getting dressed. He tried to ignore the multitude of twinkling lights and garlands decorating the living room.
“I’m not even looking forward to Christmas this year,” Devon announced when he entered the kitchen.
“You're a dumbass, you know that?” Caleb responded.
Devon frowned. Yes, he already knew that. “Why this time?”
Caleb handed his brother a cup of coffee. “Your daughter is alive. She’s healing. She’s happy and not traumatized. Enjoy the damn holiday.”
Digesting his brother’s suggestion, he took a sip from his mug. “Vince—”
“Is a disgusting piece of shit. Don't let him run your life.”
“He isn't running my life,” Devon protested.
“No? Then what was last night?” Caleb crossed his ankles and leaned against the counter.
“I wanted to forget.” Devon stared into the black
liquid in his cup. “I can’t keep going in circles over what I missed.”
“We all missed it. That’s how crazy people work, brother.”
The ache and throb was there in his chest, the stone in his gut. He hated feeling helpless. He wanted to fix it but he didn't know how. “I want him dead, Caleb. I’ve wanted it since I thought it was a random stranger looking to harm her on purpose. I still want it even though it was my best friend. He doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as Hailey.”
“He’s not. He’s breathing the same air as Bubba the axe murderer.” Caleb closed the distance between them and put an arm around Devon. “He’s not walking away from this. Put him out of your mind.”
That was his greatest wish, but he didn't know how to make it happen.
He and Caleb went to the bar, separating after Devon retrieved his car; Caleb back to his wife and baby, and Devon to the shop. He’d missed seeing Hailey and wondered not for the first time if she was better off with his parents instead of him.
When he spotted the blue compact car in the lot, he glanced at the clock. He was a few minutes later than he’d told Olivia he would arrive. She got out of her car when he pulled in, and they entered the shop together. Olivia stood near the door while Devon went around turning on the lights and the computer.
“Mr. McMillan, is everything okay now?”
He froze and looked up. “What do you mean?”
Avoiding his gaze, she twisted the toe of one shoe on the floor. “The man from yesterday won’t get out of jail and come back, will he?”
He squeezed his fists until his damaged knuckles protested. “Are you asking me if I’m going to get into any other fights?”
“I just want to know if this is a safe place to work since there have been a few incidents now.”
“One of those incidents being my young daughter wandering out of the shop and subsequently being hit by a vehicle. Are you planning on walking out into traffic, Olivia?”
She whipped her head up, her black ponytail flying behind her. “Of course not.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Mr. Buckley is in jail to stay and I’m not violent by nature.” Seeking to prove his own point, he relaxed his fists and placed his hands flat on the counter. “Are you ready to get started?”
He ran Olivia through what he’d taught her the day before. She remembered everything, so he moved on to scheduling and professionalism. No cars came into the lot, the phone did not ring, and Devon wondered if he could salvage the remains of a once-thriving business.
At the end of the day, he went home to Hailey. He’d missed her, but he felt like shit after the amount of alcohol he'd had the night before. He popped a few aspirins before tracking down his father and daughter in the kitchen.
“Bug!”
Her face lit up as she turned to look at him. “Daddy!”
Devon went to her side and kneeled by the wheelchair to hug her, not letting go until she squirmed and giggled.
“Are you helping Grandpa make dinner?” He stood to his full height and glanced at Don.
“I gave her a bowl to stir. She did great.”
Hailey grinned. “I didn’t spill or anything!”
“Good job, sweetie.” Devon sat at the table, watching his dad work at the stove. The what-ifs wouldn’t leave him. What if he did something terrible? Who would keep Hailey? His parents would. What if he actually could get to Vince somehow? Did he have it in him to bring him lasting harm? He told Olivia he wasn’t violent by nature, and that used to be true. Now he didn’t know. He knew nothing.
“Devon?”
He looked up. “Yeah?”
“I’ve asked you the same question twice now. You all right?”
“Uh, sure. I guess I was daydreaming.”
Don frowned. “Could you set the table, please? Lydia will be home soon and this is almost ready.”
“Absolutely.”
Devon kissed Hailey on the head as he walked around her chair to get to the cupboard with the dishes. He couldn't keep his mind from wandering, from going down the rabbit hole. He could be the Mad Hatter for all the insanity running through his head. He wanted to go, to run, to leave his family to learn to love without him. He attracted disaster and death. He was no good.
His phone rang, and the sound drew his attention from the stack of plates he set on the table. Striding to the front hall, he plucked his phone from the spot where he’d left it.
“Hello?”
“It’s John.”
Devon sighed, thinking he couldn't deal with any more bad news. “What can I do for you?”
“Alicia is having a New Year’s Eve party and wanted me to invite you. I told her I would, and I figure you deserve something good for a change. What do you say?”
With relief, he felt his shoulders drop. “Um,” he began. Did he want to socialize? No, he didn’t.
“Alicia said she misses Hailey and it would be great if you brought her along. Any of your family, really. Just make certain you have a DD because we like to go a little deep on holidays.”
Devon almost chuckled at John’s description of getting drunk. That was something he could get on board with. “If Lori wants to come, she’ll be the designated driver by default.”
John chuckled, and Devon fought a smile. “I guess having a newborn can do that to you. So, can I put you on the list?”
“Yeah, why not? If you need a headcount, I’ll have to ask around and get back to you.” Devon paced the foyer and glanced toward the kitchen at the sound of Hailey squealing. She and his father were trading silly faces.
“Nah, it’s not that formal. I’ll text you the address. Just come as you are.”
“Sure thing.”
They hung up, and Devon stopped pacing to stare out one of the windows that flanked the front door. Hailey had saved his life after Kathy died. She gave him a reason to live, someone to care for outside himself and his misery. Did it follow that he could save her life by walking away? If he closed himself off and hardened what was left of his heart, he would be no good for her. He simply couldn't withstand the myriad emotions that weighed him down for much longer. There had to be a solution, but he didn't know what it was.
“Devon, dinner is ready!”
He stared at the barren trees lining the road.
Break down or shut down?
Stay or go?
Chapter Sixteen
Christmas didn't bring Devon pleasure. Though he enjoyed watching Hailey with her presents and their family, he felt hollow. Kathy’s parents sent gifts as they always did, with a note saying they were coming to visit in January. Don had been the one to call them when Hailey went missing, but they hadn't found it in their hearts to come sooner. Devon figured it was for the best; he couldn't stand them, and vice versa.
Caleb, Lori, and Maisie came to the house. Devon could at least be happy for them, but that was the extent of any happy emotions. The baby was beautiful, as he knew she would be, and Hailey got a kick out of her. Devon found peace when he held her, but it couldn't last forever. Once Maisie was asleep in the portable crib his parents kept in Caleb’s old room, they gathered for dinner. It should have been a jovial time. Instead, he had to force a smile when all he felt like doing was screaming. The effort it took to pretend he was okay left him exhausted.
Hailey’s physical therapy ended up on hiatus the week of Christmas, though they attempted to keep her from going too many days between appointments. The hip brace came off, but her gait remained unsteady. Someone had to help her at all times if she wanted to get out of her wheelchair, which didn’t slow her down.
The day of the Hurley’s party came around; Lydia and Don stayed home to care for Maisie and Hailey. Devon no longer worried about how well Hailey was taken care of unless he was the one in charge. He knew he didn’t deserve his daughter anymore. When he got in the car with his brother and sister-in-law, he could finally breathe. No one expected anything of him, and therefore, he couldn't let anyone down.
“Hi guys! Come on in.”
The three of them stood in the foyer and looked around. Devon spoke up, since he was technically the only one who knew Alicia. “This is my brother, Caleb, and his wife, Lori. This is Alicia, Hailey’s teacher and Sergeant Hurley’s wife.”
They all murmured hello, and Devon breathed a sigh of relief as a little blond boy ran into the room and stole Alicia’s attention. The spotlight had begun to burn.
“Aw, I thought it was Grandma and Grandpa!” he wailed.
“Brandon, I told you ten more minutes. Why don’t you go make sure you have all your buddies packed in your bag?”
“I already did that!” He glowered up at Alicia.
“Then do it again.” She watched him stomp up the stairs and turned back to the threesome. “Sorry about that. My parents are delayed in coming to get him and he’s anxious.”
“It’s fine,” Lori replied. She peeled her coat off and draped it over her arm.
“Oh, coats,” Alicia said. “You can leave them in the closet.” She opened a door to reveal empty hangers waiting. “I have various party attire on the table here if you're interested.”
Caleb guffawed when Lori gave him a pair of plastic heart-shaped glasses. He modeled them for her, and Devon turned away at the following display of affection. Searching for the alcohol, he found it in the kitchen with John, who was pouring something for himself.
“Hello, Devon.”
“Hey, John.”
“It’s early yet, but we’re expecting more people. Can I get you a drink?” He held up a bottle of wine.
“Yes, but not wine.” Devon tucked his hands in his front pockets.
John tilted bottles as he looked at the labels. “Okay, um . . . scotch? Tequila? Beer?”
“Just a beer is fine.” He accepted the can John handed over.