Cami
I blow out a breath, twisting my fingers in my lap when I see the sign to guide us to the prison.
“Nervous?” Mike asks, sparing a glance at me.
Nodding, I give him a weak smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.”
Mike’s eyes flicker with the familiar concern I’ve seen over the past week since I told him about Devon. “And you’re sure he’s safe? Why couldn’t your parents take him?”
I grind my molars for a second, knowing I don’t have the right to be annoyed by his questions. They are reasonable, considering Mike didn’t even know I had a stepbrother. “He has to stay in the state. He could have gone to federal housing, but… I mean, we have the spare rooms, Mike. He’s family.”
He sighs, rolls his shoulders, and impassively stares at the road. “I know. I’m just not sure how I feel about a strange man staying in my house all day with my wife while I’m at work.”
“He’s not a stranger. He’s my stepbrother.”
Mike scoffs. “One you haven’t seen in ten years.”
I bite my lip, unused to this behavior from him. My husband is a very sweet, passive man who usually has no qualms about anything or anyone.
Reaching out, I pat his thigh. “If you’re really uncomfortable with it, I’m sure we can talk to his parole officer about a temporary room at a hotel or something. I’m not sure how it works, to be honest.”
He shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel harder. “No. We already said we’d take him in, but I looked up his record. And…” He’s a murderer is what I know my husband wants to say. The guilt I’ve been suppressing over the past comes glaring back, making my stomach churn.
“Just give him a chance, please?” I plead. Devon isn’t a bad guy, the opposite actually. Though we only knew each other for a year when I was sixteen and he was eighteen before he got locked up, there’s always been an irrefutable bond between us.
Mike blows out a long breath. “Of course, sweetheart. I hope we can be a fresh start for him, a solid transition back into society.”
“See, this is why I love you. You always look at the bright side and hope the best for people,” I say, stretching the seatbelt as far as I can to lean over and kiss his cheek. His face blushes and he smiles at me.
“Love you too, darling.” Mike turns up the volume of the radio, letting the music calm our nerves for the last twenty minutes of the drive.
When he turns off the highway, bile catches in my throat. I’m minutes away from seeing Devon again, and I know he’ll be a different man than the one I’ve been imagining in my head. The stretch of forest down the badly paved single-lane road is an ominous sight. I know it’s isolated on the off-chance that an inmate escapes, but it’s as if we’ve stepped into an alternate reality. One set away from any kind of normal civilization.
We park and I step out of the car, shielding the sun with my hand as I stare at the dreary brick building. The crunch of the gravel as we walk closer to the high barbed wire fence is nearly as loud as my heart beating in my ears.
“You would think with the amount of taxes from us, they could afford the upkeep of this place some more,” Mike mutters under his breath, his hand flexing where it’s resting on the small of my back.
“I don’t think our taxes are prioritized toward criminals, unfortunately. They don’t even allow them to vote, which is inhumane in my opinion.”
Mike chuckles. “I think that depends on the state and nature of the crime. I’ll research it for him when we get back.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” I agree. Devon won’t give a shit if he can vote or not. But it gives Mike a purpose, something to latch onto and keep his mind busy.
A correctional officer standing near the gate entrance stares us down as we approach. He adjusts his belt, under his large, bulging gut before putting up his hand for us to stop. “You here for pickup?”
I nod, anxiously. “Yes, sir. Devon Cartwright.”
The man huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Only man getting released today. Just wait right there.”
Mike’s eyebrows pinch at the attitude, and I step closer to him, giving him a look that asks him not to say anything. My husband may be a golden retriever, but all dogs bite when their loved ones are threatened.
Loud banging behind the fence alerts us to the heavy doors opening before two men emerge from the darkened doorway. One is in the same gray uniform as officer pot belly and the other is in a white t-shirt and dark jeans. My breath stalls at the mop of midnight black hair shining in the sun as he gets closer to us. I’m a mixture of emotions at the first sight of him in a decade.
Devon seems taller. Maybe it’s the muscles flexing under the sleeves of his shirt, or the way the jeans cling to his thighs as he walks. Tattoos cover nearly every inch of his arms, hands, and up his neck. He had nearly full sleeves before he got locked up, but the hands and neck are new. I squeeze my thighs together at the pure masculine bad boy energy radiating off of him.
Then his jade green eyes look up, and I’m immediately ensnared in them. My next breath catches in my throat. The tears gathering start to blur my vision as my heart beats so loud I’m sure others can hear it.
We stare at each other and then his lips curl into a smile. My tears spill over, and I run to him. His arms wrap around me as I jump into them, and his nose presses against my neck, breathing me in deeply. My fingers claw into his back as I cling to him, my legs wrapped around his hips. If we were alone, I would tilt his head back and kiss him to finally have a taste of him.
Mike’s chuckles break our spell and Devon slowly lets go of me so I can slide down his body. My husband steps forward, holding out his hand as my stepbrother keeps me pressed against his side.
“Hey, man. I’m Mike, ’s husband,” he introduces himself.
Devon returns the handshake. “Thanks for bringing her to me.”
My heart skips a beat at the proclamation, something only the two of us would pick up on. Mike is none the wiser as he smiles.
“Of course. It’s a bit of a drive for her to take by herself. Are you hungry? We could stop to eat on the way home.”
I smile. “That’s a great idea. I was too nervous to eat anything this morning.”
I try to step away but Devon’s fingers dig into my hips, almost indecently close to my ass, for a few more seconds before reluctantly loosening his grip. I don’t glance back at him as I move to stand near Mike.
My husband takes my hand, nods to Devon, and then looks at the correctional officer watching the entire scene. “Are we good to go?”
The man in uniform nods. “Don’t let me see you back here, Cartwright.”
Devon smirks. “You know you’ll miss me, Hayes. Keep my boys alive.”
Hayes shakes his head, waving his hand. “Get out of here. I don’t know why you’re lingering like a lost puppy.” Even if the words are cruel, I can tell that the officer holds no ill feelings towards Devon.
I smile gently at their exchange, squeezing Mike’s hand as if to say ‘ Look he’s not a bad guy.’
Devon turns to us, his grin faltering for a second at our entwined hands, and he clears his throat. “I could go for a bite to eat.”
Mike’s shoulders relax. “Excellent, I saw a diner sign on the way here.”
***
I slide into the booth, and Mike is quick to follow me in while Devon walks to the other side. Biting my lip, I debate moving closer to the middle, closer to him, but decide against it and stay next to my husband.
“I’m sorry, it’s not like a fancy restaurant or anything,” I say, picking at the corner of the menu.
Devon glances at me, studying my face before giving me a half-smile. “I don’t belong in a fancy restaurant, anyway.”
Frowning, I set the menu down. “You belong wherever you want to be, Devon.”
He shrugs, pulling my menu to him and studying it. “Have you been here before? What’s good?”
“Can’t ever go wrong with a burger,” Mike suggests, his arm coming up to rest behind me on the seat. Devon follows the movement with a barely concealed glare, but I can see the hatred burning in his eyes.
“Burger, fries with ranch, and a Coke. Always a classic,” I say quickly, to divert whatever Devon might say instead.
“You used to love club sandwiches,” Devon states.
Mike groans. “God, she still does. It’s hard to get her to try anything else.”
I blush, my heart sinking when I see how irritated Devon is at Mike’s attempt at connecting. “Hey, it’s just as much of a classic as a burger,” I say, trying to defuse his mood.
“With a strawberry milkshake?” Devon asks, and I look up into his questioning eyes. A lost look flashes on his face, as if devastated that I’ve grown so much since we’ve last seen each other.
I shrug. “Depends on my mood. Sometimes I don’t want something so heavy in my stomach.”
“More of a Coke or water type of girl now, huh?” Mike chuckles, bumping into my shoulder.
Throwing him an annoyed glance, I fiddle with the ketchup bottle in front of me. “I’m sure your tastes have changed since you were sixteen. It’s not all that revolutionary.”
“Oh yeah,” my husband groans, closing his menu shut. “I used to be obsessed with bean and cheese burritos with mustard. Now I can’t stomach the thought of it.”
Devon grimaces. I frown and ask, “Did you say mustard?”
Mike laughs, patting his stomach. “What can I say? I was a growing boy.”
“Disgusting. And I’ve had my fair share of questionable food,” Devon says, his tone flat.
I let out a small uncomfortable laugh. Not only at the tension building between them again but the reminder of where he was just released from. Thankfully, the waitress comes up to the table and collects our orders. It allows us to fall into a more pleasant silence when she walks away.
Mike clears his throat, sitting up straight in the booth. “So, Devon. I know it’s going to be a few weeks of an adjustment, but any idea on what you want to do now that you’re free?”
Devon’s tattooed fingers trace a line on the table, his gaze downcast as we wait for his answer. Then he lifts his eyes to mine, the muscle of his jaw ticcing once before he moves his attention to my husband. His tongue rolls over his bottom lip in a slow swipe. “Just taking it a day at a time.”
I put my hand on Mike’s arm, forcing a smile onto my face. “And that’s perfectly fine. Take all the time you want.”
His eyes drop to where I’m touching Mike, and he swallows before leaning back and looking out into the diner. I remove my hand slowly, twisting my fingers into my lap.
“Right, right. That’s not what I was getting at,” Mike says, scratching the back of his neck and then sighing. “ is home all day, and she has a bunch of projects that keep piling up. I figured with another man in the house, you could help tackle them. Only if you want, of course.”
My mouth slacks open, and I’m about to scold Mike for the way he just dropped this on him. But Devon turns back to us with a raised eyebrow. “I’d do anything for .”
A cold fire burns in my chest, sending a shiver down my spine and hardening my nipples. I shift in my seat, clenching my thighs together.
Mike launches into a rambling explanation of some of the projects we have. I keep my attention on the food that’s eventually set in front of us. Devon is cordial enough to respond in small head nods and grunts as my husband carries on the conversation while we all finish and leave.
The car ride home is silent. Every time I glance into the mirror, Devon’s attention is stuck out the window. But I can feel his presence, the overwhelming aura of being near me. It fries my nerves, leaving me constantly tense as if I’m waiting for something to happen. Not that I think he’ll tell Mike outright what we did on our phone calls, but I can’t help feeling guilty and as if Devon is angry at me.
When we pull into our street, a line creases his forehead as he takes in the houses. It’s a relatively new neighborhood, the collection of houses was all built at once. They’re modest, and even if Devon and I lived a nicer life when we were younger, I’m proud of what Mike and I purchased.
Mike pulls into our driveway and parks. I hurry out of the car, my stomach a ball of nerves. Devon climbs out last, his observant gaze taking everything in with a stoic expression. He pulls his bag closer to his chest before looking down at where I’m still standing.
“Can I give you a tour and show you your room?”
“Shit,” Mike says, glaring down at his phone. He waves it towards me. “Gotta call work real fast. I’ll catch up with you guys.” He’s already dialing as he walks to the side yard for privacy.
I bite the inside of my lip and glance back up at Devon.
“Just the two of us then,” he says, his lips twitching at the corner as if he’s withholding a smirk.
Nervous laughter bubbles out of my throat, and my cheeks heat with a small blush. “Your room?”
Devon nods, stepping close enough that my arm prickles with the heat of his body. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Go ahead and show me the bed I’m going to fuck you in.”
My chest caves in as I exhale a shaky breath. I step away from him, ignoring the heat coursing at the apex of my thighs. “Behave.”
Devon’s face lights up with a wicked smile. “Never.”