Page 6 of Painting Together a Family
She shook Bryan’s hand, then turned to Dev. “And I’ll call you as soon as I have any more news or movement on the case.” The case that was moving at a fucking glacial pace. He was not holding his breath.
“Thanks.”Now take your three-hundred-dollar suit and go. Argh.
At least he didn’t say the last bit out loud.
Bryan stood politely when she got up. She nodded and headed out, and then it was just him and ex-hubby number two.
“I wanted to say thank you for doing this,” Bryan told him once she was gone. “I went to a lawyer to see if I had any recourses when it first happened, but they were not hopeful and there was no way I could afford their fees at the time. I was lucky just to keep us all fed, clothed, and housed, but it’s always bothered me, that he got off scot-free, no accountability for what he did to my boys. So I’m grateful that you are pursuing it and sticking with it.”
“Please, have a seat. Would you like a pastry? I promised the girls I’d get them cinnamon rolls.” And Dev wanted to get this guy’s story.
Bryan sat back down and nodded. “I might have to try these cinnamon rolls you mentioned. If they’re good, I might have to bring a couple home to my boys. Thank you.”
“I’ll order a dozen. They’re huge. Coffee? Tea?”
Bryan looked at his watch. “Better make it a tea, please.”
“Green? Earl Grey?” He could have a cup of tea. It was more appealing than his bottle of water.
“Oh, Earl Grey would be great, thanks again.” Bryan’s smile lit his face up, making him even better looking, and he was already pretty studly.
Dev ordered the teas and the rolls, tipping well enough that Stacey would deliver them to the table, then he went to sit. “All ordered. Where are your little ones?”
“Micah and Dylan are at the community center doing an art class. If I’m not back before it’s over, Jennie will look after them. She’s the volunteer coordinator there, a total godsend. What about your—girls you said—where are they?”
“I live upstairs. They’re fourteen and ten, so they can be trusted alone long enough for me to have a cup of tea.” He winked. “Don’t get me wrong, Marley will have been on the phone with her girlfriends, and Juniper’s reading won’t be done, but…”
“How old were they when…” Bryan trailed off, and he made a face. “You don’t have to answer that.”
He got it, though. “Juniper was six-weeks-old when Mike died. I married the Fuck Monkey when she was two, so two and six.”
Bryan’s expression softened, sympathy and understanding right there, and he reached for Devlin’s hand, squeezed it. “Six weeks? Damn that must have been devastating.”
“If I hadn’t had his parents and Marley? I would have died.” The heart attack had been early, unexpected, and immediately fatal. At least Mike hadn’t suffered.
“I’m so sorry.” Bryan sounded sincere, and like maybe he knew where Devlin was coming from. His hand was given another, longer squeeze. “And then this seemingly understanding, wonderful man came in and made you feel again, made you feel like you weren’t so alone, and then turned around and took every penny you had. I could cheerfully kill him.”
“Yes. Yes, exactly. I want him to hurt as bad as he hurt Marley.”
Bryan nodded, head bobbing. “Yes! Bad enough he took us for fools, but the kids… they didn’t deserve that. Only a true monster hurts kids.”
“He’s a narcissistic, self-absorbed prick.” Monster was too good for him and an insult to monsters.
Bryan nodded. “You got that right. It bears repeating, too. I never considered myself a violent person, but I would cheerfully change that for him.”
The teas and goodies came, and he raised his glass. “To vengeance.”
Bryan copied his motion. “Yes. To vengeance. And to living our best lives in spite of his efforts.”
“You know it—” His phone rang, and he grabbed it. Marley. “Hey, baby gir?—”
“Da! Da, there’s someone knocking on the door. They say they’re from the TV.”
“Don’t answer it. Keep it locked.” Dev grabbed his tea and stood. “Want to come upstairs or leave? The media is here, and they’re scaring my girls.”
“I’ll come up with you. You might need the backup. Those guys can be vultures.” Bryan grabbed his own tea and the box of cinnamon buns. “Lead the way.”
“Sixth floor.” He started to growl before he even had his key out for the elevator.
