Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Logan
By the time we return to the RV, the quiet between us has stretched into something almost sacred. Salem doesn’t let go of my hand until our headlights catch on the metal siding, and I savor the contact, unsure of the next time I’ll be able to touch her.
We’ve reached a stalemate—a ceasefire. I won't fool myself into thinking we could ever be anything more than friends who maybe mess around on the side, but…
that thought somehow doesn't hurt anymore. I love her. I’ll always want her in my life, but I know that I can't keep her.
Not without snuffing her flame. And I'm okay with that, because she wouldn't be Salem if she lost her fire.
We share a secretive smile as she grabs Sitka before opening her door, and I follow suit.
The moment we step out of the car, though, the vibe shifts instantly.
Lights are on inside the RV, but the door hangs from its hinges like someone tried to rip it off.
The bikes are on their sides in the dirt.
Taylor's truck is gone, and when we make it to the steps, I catch droplets of crimson on the ground.
“Is that blood?” Salem's panicked gaze meets mine as Taylor and Christian's voices echo from inside.
“Dude, just… hang on! Stop being a bitch. Let me clean it.”
“Fuck off, pendejo.”
“You wanna get staph or some shit? Let me fucking clean it.”
I reach for the ruined door, and we step inside to find Tay seated at the small table, cradling his best friend's bloody jaw.
“What the hell happened?” I ask, pulse quickening.
Christian’s face is… a mess. Two swollen eyes blink over at us. “Came home and found Arya fucking Devon.”
Salem sucks in a breath. “What?”
“Didn’t believe it at first. Thought maybe we'd walked into the wrong RV, but nope. There she was riding his massive dick.”
I glance at Salem, utterly confused because weren't they sharing Arya? Had I misunderstood the situation? “Where are they now?”
“Huck took Arya in the truck and Dev sped off before I could catch a murder charge.” Christian meets my gaze, his bruised features wrapped in rage and heartbreak. “I didn’t hurt her. I'd never do that.”
Taylor sighs before dipping a bloody cloth into a bowl of water. “But you sure kicked Devon's ass, though.”
“You did what?” I screech, tugging at my hair. “He's still healing from when Salem kicked his ass!”
“What'd you want me to do, cabrón? Stand there and watch while he fucked my girl?”
“But you were both fucking her already!”
Christian laughs bitterly. “Not anymore.”
Salem spins toward the door without hearing another word. “I’ll take the Audi and go get her.”
“Guess I'll look for Dev,” I mumble, following close behind.
Christian calls my name before I can shut the door.
“If you wanna find him,” he says, flinching when Taylor dabs at another cut, “look for somewhere dark where he can see the stars. Fucker likes to look at them for some reason.”
I nod and step outside in time to watch my wife drive away, kicking up dirt in her wake. She didn't even say goodbye. My heart twists sharply.
Just like that, whatever peace we happened to find tonight turns to sand and slips right through my fingers.
After calling and texting at least a dozen times, Dev finally drops me a pin to his location. That's all I get from him. No explanation, no message back. Just coordinates that I have to call an Uber for.
It takes about thirty minutes, but eventually I find him on the outskirts of town, nestled in some trees overlooking the Missouri River. He's lying on his bike, head against the handlebars and a joint in his mouth when I pull into the clearing.
When the driver drops me off, I climb out slowly, gravel crunching under my sneakers.
Dev doesn’t move, doesn’t even look my way.
Just takes a drag off his joint with his eyes trained on the darkened sky.
Moonlight illuminates the blood coating the side of his face, and his knuckles are just as bruised as Christian's.
For a second, I stand there, watching the wind whip brown waves around his battered face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Dev exhales smoke without lifting his head. “You came all the way out here just to scold me?”
I grit my teeth and storm over to pluck the joint from his mouth. “Was the ass kicking from Salem not enough? You wanted more? Is that it?”
“You smell like sex,” he mumbles, glassy eyes finally swinging my way. “She finally put out for you? Or did you put out for her?”
“Don't talk about my wife that way, asshole.”
Dev releases a dark chuckle. “According to her, she ain't your wife.”
My fists curl at my sides. “What the fuck happened to you, man? Why are you like this? Did our grandparents fuck up that bad?”
“You don't know what you're talking about,” he scoffs, returning his focus to the sky.
“So make me understand. Were they awful? Did they hurt you?”
“Shut the fuck up, little bro.”
I grab his arm roughly. “No, I wanna know. Enlighten me. What could have been so bad in your life that you think it's okay to treat people this way?”
His bruised eyes shine beneath the starlight. “I treat people exactly how they treat me.”
“Yeah? And how’s that?”
“Disposable.”
I rear back slightly. “Dev, I didn't—”
“Don't even try to deny it,” he growls. “You used me to get back at Salem and she used me to get back at you. Christian just wanted a test subject for his dick, and Arya wanted to fuck. Even Xed only kept me around for the drugs. You all got exactly what you wanted from me and then you threw me away.” He turns his head to glare at me fiercely. “Just like them.”
“Just like who? Our parents?”
Instead of answering, he swings his legs to the side to stand. His body wobbles slightly, and I reach out on instinct to steady him before he faceplants into the dirt. Still, he doesn't speak, just stares into the treeline with his jaw clenched tight.
“I didn't use you to get back at Salem, Dev, I just…” Trailing off, I run a hand down my face as I try to put my feelings into words.
“I was drowning, man. Everything was falling apart with Salem, with my family.
Mom and Dad aren't who I thought they were, and I'm not who I thought I was. I spent so many fucking years trying to shove this shit down so I could give them what they want, and for what?”
“Shove what down?” he mutters, still not looking at me.
I pinch his jaw and force his eyes to mine.
“You,” I breathe. “Us. What we did. I've thought about being with boys since grade school, but I wanted girls, too. So I thought, why does it matter? As long as I can still marry a beautiful wife and have kids like the church wants, then liking boys is fine. I could just look, but not touch, right?”
He tries to wrench his gaze away. “That's some horseshit.”
But I tighten my hold, needing to get the words out of my head.
“When you came out as bi, everything changed.
I still remember the day Dad was fuming over it.
He'd just gotten off the phone with Grandpa, and he was pacing the living room muttering ‘no son of mine is gonna be a queer.’ I understand now that he was talking about you but at the time, I thought he meant me.
And I was fucking terrified, Dev, because I'd had bad thoughts about you and it freaked me out that maybe he could see it somehow.
Maybe it was the way I looked at you, or boys in general, I don't know. So, I hid it. Stuffed it way down.”
“What the fuck does this have to do with me?” Devon grumbles.
“When you dropped the truth about my adoption, it was like the floodgates broke. Everything I'd been suppressing for so long came to the surface, and I just… wanted to let it out.”
A bitter smile crosses his lips. “So you used me to find yourself.”
“No,” I whisper. “I lost myself in you.”
Dev's throat works with a swallow, but he doesn’t say anything.
I loosen my grip on his jaw but don't drop it entirely. “That night, in my apartment? That wasn’t revenge or curiosity. That was me finally giving in, and I hated myself for loving it. Hated you for making me feel more myself in one night than I had in years. Everything I thought I knew was a goddamn lie.”
His eyes shine as he studies my face, searching for something. “And now?”
Finally releasing him, I step back and look out toward the river. “Now, I still don't really know who I am. But I know who I won't be.”
“And who’s that?”
“Someone who hides himself from other people,” I answer firmly. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the version of myself that wouldn’t make anyone uncomfortable. The obedient son, the loyal boyfriend, the straight best friend. But none of it felt like me except for when I was with you.”
Dev draws closer, reaching out to ghost a hand across my waist. “That night… I thought I imagined that it meant more to you.”
“It did.” The words leave my mouth quickly, and my ears burn at the admission.
“Then why’d you act like it never happened?”
I drop my gaze, feeling exposed. Like I’ve been splayed open and my internal organs are breathing in the night air.
“Because if I let it mean something, I lost everything.
At least, that's how I saw it at the time.
I'm still scared of what Mom and Dad will think of me, but I'm tired of living like this. I just wanna be… me.”
Something shifts in his expression as he pulls me close. “So now what?”
The movement causes him to sway a little, and I frown, supporting him by his biceps. “Now, we get you home so I can see how bad your wounds are. Jesus Christ, you're over here bleeding out and I'm just moaning about my sob story.”
“I can make you moan if you want,” he snickers, leaning in like he's trying to kiss me. Instead, he pitches forward and nearly takes me down in the process.
“Woah, Dev, shit.” I lower him to the ground with a curse. “Let me call another Uber to get us back to the RV.”
“Not leaving my bike,” he grumbles, shaking his head like he's trying to clear it.
“Too bad. You probably worsened your concussion. Might actually have the driver take us to the hospital instead.”
“I’m not leaving the bike,” he slurs again, eyes half-lidded but stubborn as hell. “She’s all I’ve got left.”
I glance between him and the Ducati irritably. “You’re bleeding. You can’t drive.”
“Then you drive.”
“I don’t know how to drive a damn motorcycle, Dev.”
“You play video games. Same concept.”
“That’s not how it works!”
But he’s already shoving the keys into my hand with trembling fingers as he gets to his feet again. Clearly ready to fight me on this.
“Fine,” I grit out, marching over to the damn thing. “It’s your funeral. Literally."
“One can only hope,” he laughs weakly.
I swing my leg over the seat, and once I get my bearings, I motion for him to climb on.
His arms loop around my waist, face pressing into my shoulder while his thighs warm the sides of my own.
When he tries to shove the helmet on my head, I push him away.
“I'm not the one with a head injury. You use it.”
He gives in easily, sliding the helmet on with a shrug. “Whatever you want, love.”
“Now tell me what to do,” I mutter, twisting the throttle carefully. A shocked yelp bursts from my throat when the bike lurches forward.
Devon’s laughter vibrates against my back. “Slow and steady, Speed Racer.”
“Where the fuck are your headlights!”
“Your wife bashed them in. Left hand’s the clutch, squeeze it when you shift gears. Right foot’s your rear brake, easy on that or we’re eating asphalt.”
“Fantastic,” I snap. “Can’t wait to die with you tonight.”
“At least we aren't dying alone.”
Those words rip a hole in my chest, but I focus on the road so I don’t kill us both. It takes me a few clumsy tries, but with Dev's mumbled instructions, I eventually get the hang of things. We won’t be winning any races, that's for sure, but I can at least get us home.
We ride in silence for a long stretch, the wind slicing between us, cooling my heated skin. His grip on me stays tight, but I can feel the weight of his exhaustion sagging more with each mile.
Somewhere between the trees and the glow of the city ahead, he lurches to the side, causing me to jerk the handlebars. “Fuck! Dev, sit up!”
His arms fall from my waist, and I attempt to steer with one hand while I grasp for him.
“Devon!” My heart leaps into my throat. “Hey, wake up, man!”
But he doesn’t respond. His body goes limp, deadweight dragging my center of gravity sideways.
I try to counterbalance, but the handlebars twitch. The tires hit a patch of gravel. We jerk violently when I accidentally twist the throttle.
“Shit, no, no, no—”
In my mind, I meant to pull the clutch. I really did. But between Dev sliding off and my refusal to let him go, I mix up the instructions he'd given me. The front wheel skids to a sudden stop—
And my ass leaves the seat.
A guttural shout tears from my throat. The earth tilts upside down. Devon's body rips away as the roar of the engine morphs into crunching metal. I fly through the air and hit the pavement hard. Sparks heat my back from behind.
The road shreds every layer of skin it can find when I roll like a rag doll, agony rippling through my spine
The last thing I see is Devon’s bike tumbling down the ravine before a sharp pain shoots through my temple—
And the world goes black.