Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Devon’s heart tapped a rapid beat as he escorted Aurora toward her building.
He had seen her leave her apartment and had raced to follow her.
Not so close that she would notice, but also trying not to lose her.
And she had certainly done her best to keep anyone from tailing her, getting herself lost in the crowd.
Once she’d gotten near the police department, he’d guessed what she might be doing.
He’d heard that Crane was being arrested that morning.
He couldn’t believe that Aurora would take the risk of going near that guy, but Devon also had to admit that it took balls.
If he could’ve looked into the eyes of the man who’d murdered his brother, he would have.
But Devon would never get that chance. The man who’d killed Kellen had shot himself instead of being taken by the police.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. That wasn’t a good headspace. He was supposed to be focused on Aurora, not on himself.
Devon hadn’t even intended to approach Aurora on the street at all. But then he’d seen the frightened look on her face.
“Have you ever felt like you couldn’t completely trust your senses?” Aurora suddenly asked. He looked over at her. Her face had gone pale. “I mean, like you were so caught up in thinking about one particular thing that you started seeing it everywhere.”
“Sure. After my dad died when I was a kid, I kept thinking I saw him from the window of our car. We’d be driving down the street, and I’d keep telling my mom that he was out there. Trying to find us.”
Devon couldn’t even count the number of times that had made his mother cry. After a while, Kellen had made him stop.
After his brother’s death, the same thing didn’t happen, though. Kellen had been his identical twin, so Devon already saw his brother’s ghost every time he looked into the mirror.
Aurora was studying him with new interest. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He shrugged. He hadn’t told her for sympathy, just so that she could know she wasn’t going through anything unusual. Yet he wasn’t entirely sure what she had seen. Bennett was going to want to know more when Devon made his report later.
“You think you imagined a man following you?”
“Maybe. I really don’t know.”
If there could be somebody out there who was targeting Aurora, Devon sure as hell wanted to find out.
They reached the main entrance to the building and walked inside.
“Let’s assume you really saw this guy, and he was following you. Did you recognize him?”
“No.”
“You have no clue who he might be?”
She groaned. “I’m going to tell you something, because you live next door to me, and you should probably know what’s going on.”
“Okay,” he said. Even though he guessed what she was about to tell him.
“I was a witness to a crime a few days ago. The murder at The Lighthouse Club.”
She gave him the basic outline of what had happened, all of which Devon already knew. He forced his eyebrows to raise, trying to act surprised. But he didn’t have to fake his concern.
He hated that she had gone through such a terrible experience. It wasn’t right that she’d ended up in the middle of some kind of underworld dispute, when her only mistake had been planning a party for the Wolfsons. She’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong moment.
By the time she’d finished her story, they were standing outside of her apartment. “Have you told the police about seeing that guy today?” Worry burned in his gut.
“I texted Lana. She’s a district attorney. I haven’t heard back from her yet. But like I said, maybe it was nothing. Maybe I’m just seeing scary things all over the place because I’m…” She stared at the ground, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Scared.”
Shit. He wanted to pull her into his arms. “I don’t blame you. You went through something really fucked up. I’d be scared too.”
“I really hope you’re not patronizing me right now.”
“No way. I wouldn’t.” During his time in the army, he’d learned that there’s no such thing as being “fearless.” Not unless you were out of your mind or hopped up on drugs. Real soldiers learned to manage their fear, not deny it or hide from it.
She glanced at her door. “Do you want to come in for a little while?”
Would that be professional? She wasn’t in danger. But she was scared. I’m making sure she’s all right.
“If you don’t mind that I’m kind of sweaty from my run.” From chasing you down, he corrected to himself.
Her gaze moved over him, making his skin heat. Her mouth quirked in a hint of a grin. “I kinda like you sweaty.”
Was she flirting with him?
She was.
“Honestly,” Aurora added, “I’d just rather not be alone at the moment. You happen to be here. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
He laughed, his ego promptly deflating.
She unlocked the door. Her keys clattered onto the kitchen counter, and she shed her windbreaker over a chair. “I’m sure this is not what you bargained for when you moved in. Police watching the entrances and a murder witness next door.”
“Actually, you might be surprised.”
“Oh yeah? Why is that?”
“I was expecting tight security,” he improvised. “That’s one of the perks of the building. Or so the property manager told me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yep. Bennett Security’s signature service.” Aurora sank onto a barstool, resting her elbows on the counter. “So, what’s your deal? What do you do, exactly, over in that apartment of yours?”
“Aside from being a rich, entitled douchebag?”
She grinned for real this time, and the smile lit up her face. “Exactly.”
“I manage a hedge fund.” He knew his cover story by heart, and he hated it. Devon had no interest whatsoever in the stock market; Kellen had been the one with a head for investing. If Aurora asked questions about this supposed “hedge fund,” he had every intention of deflecting.
“But aside from that?” he went on. “I grew up in LA. I went to a military school for a while. I’m new to West Oaks.” He had to be vague about his real background—not many hedge fund guys would’ve gone to West Point—but he wanted to tell her something true.
“I knew you had some kind of military background.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, you got me. But civilian life was better for my family, so here I am.”
“Family? What kind of family? Like a wife, kids…”
“Nope, I mean my mom and sister and niece. Those are all the ladies in my life.”
She seemed pleased by his response.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Do I have a wife and kids? No.”
He felt himself smiling. “I mean, how’d you end up here?”
“That’s a long conversation.” Aurora got up and went to the fridge. “You’re probably thinking, no party planner in her twenties could afford this penthouse apartment unless she’s got overindulgent parents who’re rolling in dough. Right?”
“I was not thinking that.” Not those specific words.
“Ha, don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said when we met.” She mouthed the words, spoiled little rich girl.
He cringed. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t really mean—”
“Don’t worry about it. I might have been slightly bratty that day.” She dug around inside the fridge, emerging with two beers. She handed him one and popped the top on her own. “But know that you’re wrong. I’m not spoiled, and I’m not rich. My brother is, but that’s not me.”
“But you do live here.”
“Yeah, because he owns the building! I just got back to town a few months ago. I needed a place to stay. Max loves that he can keep an eye on me here, which he could never do when I was away for college in St. Louis. He gets off on control, and he claims he just wants to protect me.”
Guilt roiled Devon’s stomach. He looked down into his beer. “But if you don’t want your brother controlling your life, why’d you agree to live in his building?”
She scowled, and he held up his hands. “Not that I’m judging,” he added. “Just curious.”
Aurora sighed and closed her eyes. “I have reasons. But that’s where the long story comes in.”
He sat beside her and took a swig of his beer. “I’m listening.”
“Max is a lot older than me. We grew up in West Oaks, but not in the nice part. He couldn’t wait to get away. As soon as he turned eighteen, he enlisted. Left home. Then a whole bunch of shitty things happened at once.”
She paused, so he asked, “Like what?”
Aurora took a small sip, not meeting his eyes.
“My mom was a massage therapist, and my dad’s a barber.
They worked down here on Ocean Lane, serving the West Oaks ‘elite.’” She added air quotes, showing her disdain for the word.
Or perhaps for the people. “They lived paycheck to paycheck. Doing the best they could. But one day, the water heater flooded our house. Insurance wasn’t going to cover all of it.
There were some other factors, too. My mom wound up in the hospital with the flu, for one.
But suddenly, we didn’t have a house anymore. ”
She blinked rapidly, though Devon couldn’t see any tears. “We lived out of the car for a while. Stayed with friends. My dad lost his job because he kept being late. It got harder and harder for them to dig themselves out.”
“When did your brother find out?” Because he could imagine the man’s reaction upon hearing about his family’s crisis. But as a soldier, Max wouldn’t have been able to rush straight to them in their hour of need. Devon had certainly been in a similar situation, and it was awful. He’d felt powerless.
“My mom broke down and told him a year later. They’d been able to fool him for that long. But things had been getting a lot worse. My dad built up some gambling debt, always trying to win back what we’d lost. And my mom… She started smoking way too much weed. Trying to dull the pain.”
She spun the bottle cap on the countertop.
“Max was so furious. The next time he had leave, he came home. Straightened things out as much as he could, arranged a different place for me to live. With Lana, the woman you met before. She’d been my babysitter.
That relieved some of my parents’ burden, not having to worry about me, but it was so hard for them.
Needing their son to fix their mess, losing—”
She cleared her throat. “See, I told you this was a long story. Way too long. You probably have other things to do.”
“No. I have nowhere else to be.” I’m all yours, he almost said.
Her eyes met his. After another minute, she went on.
“Fast forward to when Max left the army and came home. Started his security company, which took off fast. I was off in college, on scholarships and a bazillion loans, then went through a terrible break-up. Max offered to help, and I accepted. He’s been incredibly generous with his money, and of course, I’m grateful for that.
But he acts like an overprotective father more than a brother. It’s too much.”
“He must feel guilty. You were just a kid, and he wasn’t around when you needed him the most.”
“I don’t want his guilt! You have no idea how many boyfriends he’s chased away. How many times I found out from teachers that my ‘dad’ called, asking about my grades, and I knew it was him. In some ways, Max is the best brother anyone could hope for. But sometimes, he’s pathological.”
And I’m helping Max lie to you, Devon thought. If you find out, will you hate me?
He was afraid he already knew the answer.