Chapter 11 #2
Then I noticed something clutched in his little fist. He slowly uncurled his fingers to reveal the frog keychain I’d bought at the gas station.
The plush fur was already dingy, marked by a small stain.
He held it up for me to see, the keychain dangling from the silver ring looped around his middle finger.
“I named him Moon, because there was a full moon when you gave him to me.”
The bar around me ceased to exist. Sounds dimmed. There was only this little kid looking up at me in a way no one ever should have. Like I was some sort of hero.
I had a nephew—Dennis’s kid. Only by blood. I’d blown any chance with him a long time ago. I’d threatened to kill him while he was still in his mother’s womb, just to punish the man who’d killed my brother. I was no hero. I was a fucking monster.
I knew I had to say something. Anything.
I managed a gruff, “Good name, kid.”
Movement out of the corner of my eye brought the bar back into focus. Mads stepped behind Jeremy, frowning deeply as he placed his hand on the kid’s shoulder.
“What do you mean he gave that to you, Jer?” Mads glanced over at Cian. “It was the only thing he cared about when we got him from the motel room. Not his clothes, not his bookbag… Nothing. Just the frog.”
I could feel Cian’s eyes on me now. I refused to look at him. I’d rather strip naked, get on my knees, and suck his dick right here in front of everyone than deal with how vulnerable I felt.
Jeremy craned his neck to look at his uncle. “Sometimes he left food outside our door because Mom forgot a lot.” He held up the keychain. “And he gave me Moon.” Then he looked back at me. “You left. Where did you go? Why didn’t you come back?”
Cian sucked in a sharp breath, and I made the mistake of looking at him.
Those eerie eyes pierced right through my skin, scanning sinew and bone.
My hand drifted to my chest, covering my heart like I could hide it from Cian’s examination.
Goosebumps erupted over my skin, and I swallowed around the ball lodged in my throat.
My head felt heavy, and my heart worked overtime to pump too-thick blood through my weary limbs.
“I’m sorry, kid. I had to work,” I lied.
Jeremy nodded with a small frown. “That’s okay. My dad has to work a lot too.”
“Hey.” Dylan slid off his stool to crouch in front of his son. “I’m gonna get a new job, okay? One where I don’t have to leave all the time. Things are going to change, Jer.”
Starla emerged from the kitchen with a big smile. In one hand, she carried a full plate of chicken fingers and enough fries to feed a horse. In the other hand was a massive slice of chocolate cake that would probably put the kid into a sugar coma. “Hey there.” She beamed at him. “Who’s hungry?”
Jeremy gave me one last long look. “Thank you for Moon.”
I nodded back, which felt like the only action I was capable of. Cian was still watching me with the focus of a predator, and I had to escape his gaze before he ripped me apart.
While Jeremy dug into his fries, I managed to thaw my muscles enough to slide off the stool. “Bathroom,” I whispered. I didn’t wait for Cian’s permission. He could zap me in front of everyone if he wanted. Even that would be preferable to letting him study me like a bug under a microscope.
Alone in the bathroom, I used the urinal, then washed my hands before splashing cold water on my face.
I stared at myself in the mirror, wiping the nervous sweat from the back of my neck.
A month-old advertisement for a live band was taped to the side, with a crude cock and balls drawn in Sharpie beneath it.
I let my entire body slump forward and braced my hands on the sink.
That frog had been such a stupid purchase. But fuck, when I’d seen the grubby thing clutched in that boy’s hand, my eyes had burned and my dumb heart had skipped a beat. Absolutely humiliating. Thank fuck I hadn’t cried at the bar. I would’ve launched myself off a bridge.
You’re not a good person. You’re not a good person.
I repeated the words in my head like a mantra. I’d always clung to that belief because it had felt like the only real truth in my life. If I just accepted it, decisions were easier. I could ignore how I’d puked my guts up every time I’d killed someone or ordered a hit.
The bathroom door swung open with a bang.
I jerked upright, and in the mirror I saw Cian standing between me and the exit.
He reached behind him and turned the lock with a flick of his wrist, and that click might as well have been a gunshot.
I’d been chained in a shed for days, but I’d never felt more claustrophobic.
I curled my fingers into fists so he couldn’t see them tremble and walked toward the door, but Cian only leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
I huffed out a breath. “I’m done. Let me out.”
Even as I said it, I knew my words were pointless. Cian did whatever he wanted. He’d made that clear plenty of times.
So it was no surprise when he replied, “No.”
I gritted my teeth. “What the fuck do you want?”
Cian cocked his head. “You gave the kid food. Why?”
See, now that was what I’d been afraid of. That he’d start looking at me differently because I’d bought the kid a damn hot dog.
“Because I fucking felt like it.” I spat, but the tremble in my voice was unmistakable. Cian heard it. His nostrils flared like he’d caught the scent of weakness. A lion in human skin.
“Not good enough.”
“Well it’s the only one you’re going to—”
He reversed our positions with one hand around my throat and slammed me against the door so hard the hinges rattled.
I gasped as he squeezed and slid his knee between my legs to pin me in place.
And the worst part was that my body immediately reacted.
Because of course it did. Cian only had to exist within a five-mile radius of me.
After ten years with a barely-functioning dick, this constant arousal drove me insane.
I wasn’t used to thinking this much while my body was doing something else entirely.
I fought back, pushing against his chest, but I wasn’t strong enough to budge him. “Fuck you, Cian,” I rasped.
He leaned in close. “You didn’t just leave him food. You gave him that keychain.”
I rolled my eyes. “The fucking clerk must have dropped it in the bag without me noticing.”
Cian snorted. “And it just so happened to be a frog?”
“You’re reading too much into it,” I ground out. “I didn’t help him, did I? I left him in that motel room. Alone and hungry.”
“Because I had you thrown in a trunk.”
Why wouldn’t he just accept the version of Devlin I wanted him to see?
“Fuck off. You think I give a shit about kids? I threatened to kill my own nephew, remember?”
Cian wasn’t letting up. If anything, his eyes gleamed with interest at what I’d said. “But did you hurt him?”
“I would have.”
“Would you really?” His voice dropped low, each word slow and deliberate. “Would you really have hurt your nephew? Think, devil.”
I didn’t want to think. That was the whole point.
Sure, I’d done some terrible things to a lot of people.
But hurting a kid? I’d never done that. I’d spend years convincing myself I could.
People believed the Detroit Devil was the kind of scum who would stoop to the lowest pits of hell.
And I wore that like armor. I refused to let anyone, including myself, see what was really inside.
I didn’t want to be human. Because if I was, I had to feel.
I could want again. I could lose again. I could hurt.
But Cian, with his blue eyes and harsh words, cut through that armor like it was nothing. I gripped his wrist where he held my throat.
“Don’t.” The naked plea in my voice should have embarrassed me, but I was past the point of caring.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t…” I bucked my hips in another attempt to dislodge him, but Cian didn’t budge. He could probably hold me in place with two fingers. Tired of fighting, I slumped in defeat.
“Don’t try to find anything good in me. You’ll only be disappointed.”