Page 8 of Devious Whims

“If I knew you were such a gold-digger, I wouldn’t have bothered waiting for you.” He sneers, his chest rising and falling in quick angry pants.

My eyes water. “I’m not.”

Devon waves a tattooed hand around the closet. “Aren’t you?”

I shake my head. “I bought a lot of it myself. I only quit my job recently when… when we—”

He stares impassively at me. “When what?”

“When we decided to start trying for a baby.”

His eyes squeeze shut, and he rubs at the center of his chest. My heart aches to see the pain on his face, and I want to soothe it, but I remain frozen in place. When he finally opens his eyes and flicks his jade-green gaze at me, the utter devastation in them has my breath catching. “I only ever wanted you.”

“Devon…” I try to step towards him, but he moves away from me.

I swallow, taking in the closet's destruction. Licking my lips, I straighten my shoulders and glare at him. “I did everything for you.”

He blinks, his eyes widening a smidge as his mouth opens.

Stepping closer, I poke a finger into his chest. “You left me. And I had no idea when you would come back. I had no one. Our parents just up and left the country after your trial, leaving me in a big house with a single nanny. The guilt of what happened left me crippled, Devon. I barely graduated high school and only attended college to get access to my trust. So I’m sorry if I found a man who made my life a little easier, who made my dark days a little brighter while I was stuck in an endless cycle of waiting for you.”

His hand shoots out and wraps around my throat, spinning us so my back is flush with the wall while he presses against my chest. “He took what was mine,” Devon seethes into my face. “Your first time, your first kiss at the altar, your last name, and he almost filled your belly with his kids.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, circling his wrist with my hand. “It’s always been you.”

His fingers trail up my thigh, pushing the towel up as he caresses my center between my legs. “Did you think I would still want you? With your used pussy stretched from another man’s cock and kids.”

I ignore the pang that ticks in my chest, focusing on the blatant desire burning in his stare. “Yes, because they would be half of me.”

A slight shudder runs through his body and his fingers flex around my throat. “Is there a chance you could be pregnant now?”

“No,” I say, pondering if I should tell him the truth before I decide he deserves it. “Mike’s infertile. We got the results a week before your call.”

Devon’s forehead drops to rest against mine, his breath fanning across my face. “Fuck, that probably just saved his life.”

My nails dig into his arm. “Don’t kill him, Devon. He’s—I don’t love him like I do you.”

He jerks back, his narrowed eyes glaring. “But you love him?”

“He’s all I had for years,” I admit hesitantly.

Devon’s nostrils flare. “You’ve always had me.”

“You weren’t here,” I say so low, I’m not sure he heard me. He lets go, stepping away and looking around the mess he made.

I clutch my towel tighter. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

He runs a hand down his face. “I’m gonna go for a run.”

Devon doesn’t wait for a response before charging out of my room and down the hallway. Swallowing down the bitter hollowness building in my throat, I quickly change into some leggings and a shirt before starting the task of reorganizing my closet.

Devon

I’m losing my mind. I stand at the corner of the street, hands resting on my head, fingers twisted in my hair and my chest heaving. I’ve been free for less than twenty-four hours, and I’ve fucked the love of my life while simultaneously being stabbed in the heart by her. She’s all I thought about every day in that godforsaken hellhole, and I finally have her in my grasp, but it feels like she’s slipping right through.

A part of me wants to snap Mike’s neck the next time I see him, while the other part knows she would never forgive me if I did. Once I got out, there wasn’t much to my plan other than to just be with Cami. I knew that the money my grandfather had put aside for me had grown exponentially. The advice of a financial guy from my lawyer eased any worries I had about needing a job. Cami had never been one to care about clothes, cars, or a fancy house, or so I thought. I wasn’t worried about providing for her if that’s what she wanted, but this is like staring at a woman I don’t recognize.

Taking in big gulps of the cold air, I’ve never felt so trapped as I glance around. Rows of identical square lawns lined up next to each other, varying shades of beige and cream houses with a difference of three designs take up both sides of the streets. Even trees of equal height grow in front of every other house, their branches dipping toward the asphalt in a picture-perfect arch. Nothing about this suburb accepts originality, anything out of the ordinary is doomed to wither. It makes me sick, another reminder that I don’t fit into Cami’s life.

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