Page 34 of Unbroken

I gave a shallow nod, not wanting to really admit it out loud.

“Although I understand preparing for the possibility of rejection, you will never know unless you try.”

SIXTEEN

Devon

“Mom,you look great. We need to go,” I said for the tenth time. Our group text was already blowing up, everyone wondering where the hell I was.

I was never late, but when my mom asked me to drop her off at a friend’s house on the way to Murphy’s for the night, I couldn’t say no. She also said she was almost ready. An hour ago.

I tapped lightly on her bathroom door and pushed it open. She was applying lipstick that I could have sworn she’d already applied several minutes earlier.

She capped the tube and ran her fingers through her short red hair that was littered with streaks of gray.

My mom had been in remission for several months. Her hair had begun to grow back, and her energy levels were up. I tried to remember that when she was annoying the crap out of me.

She’d moved back in with me after she returned from Houston. She’d wanted to get an apartment or find her own place, but I wanted her close. Her health was still precarious after years of fighting. So, after days of arguing, she finally caved—she movedinto the main bedroom, and I took the apartment above the garage.

It wasn’t how I imagined my thirties to look, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as my mom was alive and as long as she wasn’t suffering, I didn’t give a shit if my life had turned out nothing like I’d planned it.

She was diagnosed for the first time while I was in college. She hadn’t yet depleted her savings on doctor’s appointments and treatments, and luckily, it lasted until I graduated and was able to start providing for her and my younger sister, Sydney.

Helping raise Sydney wasn’t as bad as I thought. She graduated high school and got into the school of her dreams with very few issues.

And everything felt even sweeter knowing how close my mom had come to being another victim of Valerie’s sadistic plans. The anger that still pumped through my veins at the thought was hot and bright. I hadn’t shared that information with my mom yet. I didn’t know how. And I doubted that Blakely would either.

Blakely’s role in everything made it even worse. What she’d been through…I wanted to hurt the man who’d hurt her. I wanted to do to him what he’d done to her ten times over. And if Valerie weren’t already dead, I’d have her taken care of as well.

“I’m almost done, I promise,” she said, opening another drawer and pulling out a product I didn’t recognize.

“You said that forty-five minutes ago. Everyone is waiting on me.”

She rolled her eyes and gave me an unimpressed look in the mirror. “It takes me a little longer these days. Your friends and the bar will be there when I’m done. Didn’t you say you had some work to get done? You could work on that while I’m finishing up.”

After traveling back and forth to Houston and making sure Sydney graduated high school, working for a company that wanted me in the office every day for at least ten hours wasn’tworking. I needed a more flexible schedule, so I started consulting for companies. My expertise in software development was lucrative to many companies, and it afforded me the opportunity to make my own schedule and focus on other things in life. Which also meant, no, I didn’t have work that needed to be done. I’d had an earlier meeting with a company downtown, but there was nothing I needed to do just yet.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the doorbell rang. I looked at my mom in the mirror. She wasn’t wearing the same confused expression I was.

“Are you expecting someone?” I asked.

Blatantly ignoring my question, she asked, “Can you get that, please?”

Ignoring her like she did me, I didn’t move. Until she threw her hands in the air in an exasperated gesture. “It could be someone important, Devon! Go, go, please.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head as I turned out of the bathroom and walked down the hallway into the entryway. Frustrated, I didn’t stop to consider who might be on the other side of the door. I just unlocked it and swung it open.

The last person I expected to see was standing there.

“Blakely.” Surprise was evident in my voice, the way I stuttered out her name.

Her eyes widened, obviously just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“Umm…hi. I’m sorry. Is your mom here?” she asked.

“Yes?” The word came out more like a question than it did an answer.

She readjusted her bag on her shoulder and nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Her long, black hair was in natural waves that fell well past her shoulders. And her black top clung to her arms and torso. The black skirt she wore hit mid-thigh, and wrapped around her legs were sheer black tights.

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