Page 51 of LOT 62

I smashed my fist into my pillow, took a deep breath, shuffled around until I got comfortable, and closed my eyes… only to hear the cogs in my mind keep on spinning. Jamming, more like.

Jim would have assumed that Devon told me and Nate about those documents, so that meant we were a risk to his plan. Would he come back to finish us off? Would he send someone like Davis to do it? Should I be expecting a second wave of danger?

Okay, I could fully admit to being a hypocrite. Not a chance in hell was I ready to let this go and move on. Was this how Devon felt when he tried to make that deal with his dad? I’d spent so much time punishing him for being stupid, but now I wanted to be stupid to get to the bottom of it. When the person you loved became endangered, you did crazy shit without seeing the full logic in order to protect them. I understood why he’d done it so much better now. Devon used whatever little bits of power he had to try to keep us safe, but now we had even less of it. I needed to find a way to get some of that power back. I mean, I hadn’t hesitated for even a thump of my heart to jump in front of that bullet barrelling towards Devon; it’d been a reaction. An impulse. Maybe that’s what he’d been trying to do for me that whole time, and there I was, shutting him out and making him sleep on the couch for it. Jesus.

“Maddox,” Devon growled. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

I rubbed my hands over my face, bent my knee to rest against the wall, and blew out my confusion in a long breath.

Fucking all the way off now.

Jim’s plan would be impossible to decipher because he probably didn’t even have it all laid out. With no idea where he was or where he planned to go, no clue about that shipping vessel, and no hint at who else he had in his pocket from Garron Police, we were pretty fucked. My dad had said he sniffed around our lot a bit, but had that meant anything? What did our lot or our trailer have to do with any of this? If I had to guess, it had been Jim trying to fuck with our heads. Guess what? Head fucked!

We had all these little bits of intel and no idea what any of them meant. No starting point to even begin looking into them either. Jim just vanished into thin air, tried to have his son murdered, and that was it. End of story. But it didn’t at all feel like the end of the story.

“Holy fuck,” Devon snapped, rolling onto his back. His semi flopped against his thigh before he cupped it in his hand. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Sorry. Fuck.”

“I love you, Madd, but you gotta learn to meditate or some shit. Your brain is buzzing all over the place.” He flitted his hands around to mimic my mind.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” I sat up and started to crawl over him.

Devon gripped my hips and pushed me back, his dick getting hard. He gave me a look that said to ignore that, and then he pushed up onto his elbows. “I’m never sleeping without you again, so you might as well just vent so we can talk it out and go back to sleep. What is it?”

I leaned against the side wall, facing him. “I’m a hypocrite and I can’t let this shit go. This stuff with your dad isn’t over.”

Devon sat up, pulled the sheet over his lap, and turned the lamp on. “I know.”

“And I can’t sleep because I'm worried he’s gonna come back to finish the job.” I nodded at him, signalling that he was the job. “And I refuse to lose you, Devon. We’ve spent too much time fighting life and each other that I’m ready to go to fucking war to fight for you. I’m ready for all the…” Oh, God.Shut up, Madd.

“The what?” he asked, grinning.

“The happiness part, you know? I wanna be all in love and shit, and like… go stay at a terrible hotel with a jacuzzi or a hot tub. Stupid trips, you know?” Yeah, here I went full sap. Whatever. “I want the fun part and the happiness and the cheesy bullshit, Devon. I just hate worrying about everything all the time.”

“You romantic fuck,” he said, using the same tone of voice he’d used the first time he said it—the night we fucked for the first time. I gave him the finger, but it only made him smile. “Where would we go on a trip? We aren’t hikers and we sure as shit wouldn’t fit in at some ritzy place. We aren’t cultured or edgy or artistic. Where the fuck do blue-collar losers go on vacation?” He smiled at me, honestly asking where I might want to go.

Yeah, I didn’t really give a fuck about Paris and lived in the termwhen in Romemore than I actually wanted to be in Rome, so I had no idea. “Anywhere. Anywhere we don’t have to work, worry, or watch our backs. I just want a weekend with you without anyone fucking it up,” I laughed.

Devon put his legs over mine. “Well, we can do that here until we can afford a hotel. We can skip the track and lock our brothers out and just shut off the world. It might not be fancy, but we can afford that. We can even pretend to order room service if we make someone heat up all our gifted casseroles for us,” he laughed.

“I wanted a hot tub,” I pouted.

“Hot as fuck out, bud. Ocean is basically a hot tub. Jump right in.” He squeezed my knee. “Let’s do it this weekend. No track. Deal?”

It sounded perfect, which meant it wouldn’t be, but I’d love it anyway. “Deal. As long as you don’t go all Nurse Devon on me.”

“It’s Doctor Devon,” he corrected. “I promise.”

At least he’d shut my mind up for a bit. “Come here.” I grabbed him and brought him between my legs. He rested his back against my chest and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling our hearts pump together. I never thought I’d be into this kind of romance, but Devon made me equal parts sappy and aggressive and I liked the mix of it. “I love you.”

22

-Devon-

Maddoxwasn’tshuttingmeout, and I wasn’t lying to him. This time, we did this shit together without any resentment, secrets, or hard feelings.

He sat with his legs hanging over the dock, the water lapping at his ankles, and his shoulders relaxed. He’d gotten so much better. His incision healed nicely, not even swollen anymore, just a bit red, so he was still sorta on my watch list. His doctor said he could resume normal activity minus heavy lifting, so he hadn’t been cleared for work just yet. It’d been nearly two months, so he could cool his fucking jets for a bit longer. I’d make sure he did, no matter how much he bitched.

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