Page 15 of Tempting Devil

Resolved, I placed the framed photo on top of the others, pausing when something in it caught my attention. A birthmark near Samuel’s hipbone.

Grabbing it once more, I squinted, studying the imperfection I’d forgotten about over the years. It was similar to the one Gideon had in the same spot. But it wasn’t the same shape.

Then again, maybe that was simply due to the scars marring his skin.

What was I even thinking? That Gideon was Samuel?

It was absurd. They were two completely different people. Not to mention Gideon looked nothing like Samuel.

Yet I still grabbed my phone and navigated toward the album containing all the photos and videos I’d avoided for years. This was the last thing I should have been doing, considering I’d just vowed to stop dwelling on the past.

I rationalized my actions by telling myself that once I found a clearer photo or video of Samuel, proving the birthmark in no way resembled Gideon’s, I’d finally let go and move on.

As I scrolled through hundreds of photos and videos, my eyes lingered on one video in particular. It had been taken around the same time as the photo in question and captured Samuel and Ollie playing together on the beach.

The sun shone brightly in the brilliant blue sky, casting a warm glow over them. Samuel threw a tennis ball toward the ocean, his laughter ringing out as Ollie eagerly dove into the shallow water to retrieve it, his furry body glistening with droplets of saltwater upon resurfacing.

But Ollie could never play fetch with just one ball. Instead, whenever he ran back to Samuel, he refused to let go of the ball in his mouth until Samuel produced a second one. Only then would Ollie drop the ball, anxiously waiting for Samuel to throw the new one.

My heart warmed as I watched Samuel and Ollie play together, swiping through more videos I’d taken that day. In one of them, Ollie had just retrieved his ball from the water when a seagull landed nearby. He immediately dropped the ball and chased after the seagull instead.

Without missing a beat, Samuel bellowed, “Ollie, heel!”

The sound of his voice caused me to suck in a sharp intake of air.

But it wasn’t just his voice. It was that voice. Those words. That command.

It was practically identical to the way Gideon sounded when he ordered Ollie to heel the other day.

As I replayed the video and listened to Samuel repeat the same command, he sounded more and more like Gideon.

Or maybe I simply wanted him to sound more and more like Gideon.

I couldn’t be sure.

All I did know was I thought there was something familiar about him from the beginning. Now, as I watched old videos of Samuel, that feeling only grew stronger.

I dug my fingers into my hair, feeling like I was on a constant seesaw with no way of getting off. I reminded myself of what Melanie said earlier. That if Samuel were still alive, he wouldn’t have stayed away from me. Plus, every medical expert insisted he couldn’t have survived after losing that much blood. Samuel Tate was dead.

That still didn’t stop me from analyzing everything about Samuel in the videos. From the way he moved. To the way he laughed. To the smooth cadence of his voice.

If I closed my eyes, it could have been Gideon.

But how could that be?

I continued to scroll through all the photos and videos, searching for one of Samuel without his shirt on. When I landed on one I’d taken as he lay by the pool, I clicked on it.

His features were softer than Gideon’s, his jaw smoother, nose smaller, face thinner. But those piercing eyes and strong brow were unmistakably the same. I moved down the photo to analyze the rest of his body.

The body I once knew so intimately but now seemed almost foreign to me after all this time.

While Samuel was in amazing shape from years of wrestling and martial arts, he wasn’t as bulky as Gideon. Regardless of the differences, I zoomed in on his torso, scrutinizing every mark and blemish.

It was one thing for him to have a similar birthmark.

It was another to also have an identical scar right below the ribcage from where one of Samuel’s foster brothers burned him with a cigarette. A scar I’d forgotten about until now.

In all the times I’d seen Gideon without a shirt on, it hadn’t even dawned on me that Samuel had a similar scar. In my defense, my mind was typically preoccupied whenever I saw Gideon shirtless.

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