Page 38 of LOT 62

I pulled the door to our trailer open, and Devon stood up from the couch. He stared at me with pain in his eyes and reluctance in his body, not knowing if he could touch me or not. We craved each other, but stubbornness and the determination to always win prevented us from getting what we wanted.

Devon walked around the couch, eyes on mine, questions on the tip of his tongue. He stopped a few feet in front of me and opened his mouth. He closed it. With a sigh, he closed the distance between us, braced for a punch, and hugged me.

My skin came alive and my blood flowed more freely. My mood stabilized and my energy level evened out. Fuck, that felt good. I rested my temple against his hair and gave myself permission to wrap my arms around him. How long had I needed this? How long had I been half of myself because I’d denied his touch? I was mad at him, yeah, but I still loved him. Anger didn’t matter in a moment like this.

I breathed him in and hugged him hard, feeling his heartbeat against mine and his breath fanning my neck. Holding him felt just as natural as fighting him these days, and I’d been missing both. I needed to set this shit aside to make myself right again. To make him right again. His chest fluttered with a shaky exhale, making me hug him tighter. His throat made a strange sound, and I swear to fuck, if he cried, I’d knock him out for making me cry. I still needed to be mad at him for a bit longer. I ran my fingers through his hair and sank into his hug.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” I whispered back.

Because that would never change. No matter how hard we fought or how many different ways we fucked up our relationship, the love would always be stronger than the bullshit.

I pulled back and almost broke when I saw tears glistening. I held the sides of his face, swiping my thumbs across his cheeks, falling in love with him all over again. The blue of his eyes held the apology his lips were too obstinate to speak, and the bloodshot whites held the guilt he clearly felt. I knew he was sorry, but I also knew it wasn’t enough to stop him. I leaned forward and kissed him lightly, not lingering too long.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said, running my hands down his arms until I gripped his hand.

“Together?” he asked.

I pulled him with me as an answer. The emotionally choked breath he let out sounded like a fight against crying, so I clamped my emotions down tight and brought him to bed with me. We stripped in silence, and since he was the one who felt guilty, I swallowed my pride and pulled his back against my body, spooning him and hopefully never letting go. Not for tonight.

16

-Devon-

Ihadhighhopes.Today was the day everything would change. My plan sat in place, the traps set and the cops on board—my dad’s freedom was about to come to an end. By midday, my fight with Maddox would all be worth it because today was the day I removed the threat to his life.

Maddox slept soundly. I felt the deep, slow expansion of his chest against my back, so I took the opportunity to roll over and admire him. Twisting in his arms without waking him, I brushed his messy dark hair off his forehead to appreciate his skin or some shit like that.What?Even his damn skin was pretty to me?

Fuck it. He was beautiful. Nothing in my life had ever been as beautiful as Maddox. Not this bed, the trailer, or the lot we worked so hard to get. Not the shop, the trucks, our dirt bikes, or anything else we managed to own and be proud of. I could lose it all and barely blink, but if I lost Maddox, I’d blink right out of existence. I knew I’d been fucking everything up lately, but I hoped he’d understand it once everything ended today. Dad would go away for life, and Maddox would be mine for life. To fight, fuck, love, and maybe even marry if he ever forgave me. I’d spend eternity making it up to him if I had to.

I leaned forward and kissed him, whispering adorations against his skin that I hoped he heard but didn’t react to. I liked being sweet, but it made me uncomfortable sometimes, too. “I love you, Maddox Kane. So much it hurts. So much it makes me stupid.” I breathed him in for a long moment and then climbed out of bed.

I put on my best shit-kickers, wrapped myself in confidence, and took a deep breath. Here we fucking go.

Onemeaslycop?That’sall they fucking sent me? This asshole wasn’t a cop I recognized, and by the looks of him, he was young, inexperienced, and probably only showed up because the task had been pawned off on him. Garron Police thought I was lying, conning them, up to something that wasn’t worth their time. Being the son of Jim Sawyer didn’t give me enough credit to give the police evidence of an actual crime. They claimed I was out to get my dad for what he did to me and Nate last year.Reputation strikes again. Far be it for Devon lowlife Sawyer to actually want to do something good.

“There’s a boat out there waiting for him,” the cop, Davis, told me. “If he has anything illegal on board, we’ll be able to put him away.”

I shook my head in a panic. The plan was fucked. “He doesn’t have anything illegal yet! I told you guys this. You have to track himtothe shipping vessel and then ambush him. Jesus fucking Christ.” I rubbed my eyes, wondering if anything else could go to shit today.

Davis gripped the handle of the gun in his holster, almost looking unsure about carrying it. “Well, if he has the shipping documents with him, then we can at least put him away for intent or something.”

Or something?Was this guy for real? I didn’t get the chance to reevaluate the plan or make something new because my dad’s beat-up car pulled into the empty docking ramp. He hopped out with a duffle bag while Davis stepped out of sight, hiding in the treeline. I ignored the rookie and moved to meet my dad.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, not pausing his footsteps toward the boat.

“Making sure you actually leave,” I answered, following him. “I want to watch you leave.”

“Such an ungrateful brat,” Dad huffed.

So ungrateful I stole the shipping slips for him, gave him money to rent the boat, and made sure he had a clean getaway. But yeah, I could see how that made me an ungrateful brat. I refrained from rolling my eyes, watching him throw his bag into the small motorboat he’d be leaving in.

“Guess this is it, boy,” he said. “Good knowin’ ya.”

I untied the lines from the dock. “Never come back.”

“This place sucks the life out of ya. You’d be best to get out while you still can, too.” He started the boat and I tossed the lines onboard.

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