Redemption (The Bet) (43 page)

He swallowed another shot of bourbon and swiped his hand on the lower part of his face, his jaw rough against his palm, he realized he hadn't cared to shave this morning--- or bathe for that matter.

The effects of his fiancée’s betrayal did not permit him the leisure of grooming himself.

He
didn't even know how to feel. No fuck that, he was pissed off! Matter of fact he was feeling exceptionally violent. Violent enough that if he were to see Nicholas Grayson right now, he'd pummel his head into a bloody pulp and enjoy every second of it.

The front door to his penthouse flew open and Devlin had only to turn his head slightly to see his son storm into his bedroom and slam the door behind him.

Ellie appeared soon after and upon seeing Devlin, uncertainly smiled before closing the door behind her. She walked further into the room, feeling more and more like an intruder with every step she took until she came to a hesitant stop in front of Devlin. "Hi."

Devlin drank her in, from the tips of her sandaled feet, to the
top of her shoulder length hair. She was as beautiful as the very first time Devlin had laid eyes on her. Still just as breathtaking as the first time they'd gone out. Overcome with the sudden need to hold her close, Devlin gently pulled Ellie to him and embraced her. He held her close, pressed his face to the side of her neck and inhaled.

Eucalyptus and mint,
that was Ellie's signature scent. It was in the shampoo she used and the shower gel she always bought. It was a scent Devlin could always attribute to home, it was comfort and love.

Without warning, Devlin scooped Ellie off her feet and car
ried her to his bedroom. "Dev…"

"You owe me this." He stated.

The surfeit of lights emitted from the city below and beams from the full moon above, gave Devlin ample lighting to see what he was doing as he entered his bedroom. He deposited Ellie on the bed and walked away to lock the door behind him.

"Devlin," Ellie nervously licked her lips, rising to a sitting position she looked at the fatigued ma
n bleakly staring at her. "We need to talk." Even to her own ears those words sounded like a death knell. The resounding claxon of a relationship headed for the guillotine. Ellie steeled herself. "There's something I need to tell you."

Devlin pulled off his shirt and
threw it somewhere on the floor. "It can wait," his jeans came off next.

Ellie shook her head, stood up and moved away from the bed. "I'm not going to have sex with you, Devlin."

"You think you have a choice in this?" Devlin questioned caustically as he advanced.

Ellie slowly backed away. "Okay, I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer, because I
know it's the alcohol talking…"

"Have you fucked him yet? Or are you going to do that after you leave here?"

"You're drunk and I'm leaving." Ellie headed for the door, Devlin blocked her path.

"Don't leave, Ellie, I thought you wanted to
 talk." Devlin swept his arm through the air. "So let's talk. Let's have it out, babe. We both know it's been a long time coming."

"I don't think you're in the right frame of mind to hear what I have to say, so
maybe we should talk tomorrow."

"How many times, Ellie?
How many fucking times did I ask you whether you wanted to be with me?" His long strides immediately brought him to her. "How many times did I ask you whether it was me you loved!" with his hands tightly wrapped around Ellie's upper arms, Devlin shook her. "You lied! You continuously lied to me!"

"I didn't lie!" Ellie tried to pull away but Devlin's grip remained firm. "I do love you Devlin, I
 do…"

"But?"

The tears came then and Ellie frantically blinked them away, she looked down.

"No!" Devlin shook her again. " You don't get to fucking cry, Ellie. Goddamn it! Look me in th
e fucking face and tell me! Tell me how you love him more than me!" Hazel eyes shined with unshed tears but Devlin's heart was frozen to those pretty eyes and those unshed tears. He was immune and he'd had enough. "TELL ME!"

"I love him. I never
stopped."

The confession hurt more than he'
d ever thought it would. The ache was unmatched by anything he'd ever felt before. Even the pain of losing his father hadn’t been this profound.

"I never meant
for any of this to happen the way it did, Devlin," Ellie sobbed. "I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe me! I never wanted to hurt you!"

Devlin released his grip on her arms, fearing that he'd shatter the bones if he didn't.

"Dev…Dev please…" she reached for him but thought better of it as she covered her mouth instead, the tears running free.

“I never stood a chance did I? The very second he came back, you knew, Ellie. You fucking knew and I felt it.”

“I didn’t want this, Dev. Nicholas and I are…”

"Did our relationshi
p mean nothing? The three years, were they just lies?"

"NO! I was happy with you!" Ellie furiously shook her head. "I loved you!"

"Then why? Why him? Why now?"

"I've
loved him since I was eighteen." She whispered desperately, begging for understanding. "He…”

"He…
what, Ellie?"

"He c
ompletes me, Devlin."

"
Wow,” his laughter was bitter and harsh. “Let’s push that knife a little deeper why don’t we? What the fuck was I Ellie, his substitute? We’re you keeping me around until he came back?”

“I never thought of you like that.
Not once. Please, try to understand, Devlin. I wanted to be with you, I wanted to marry you. But Nicholas coming back has awakened all these feelings I thought I’d buried a long time ago. I tried to deny it for so long now, lying to myself, to you. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t under good conscience commit myself to you feeling the way I do. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

"GOD!" He roared, kicking the burgundy ottoman in the process. "WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET MARRIED!" he advanced on her again, cornering her this time against the solid wood armoire and his looming frame. "How can you do this to me, Ellie?" There was so much anguish in that one whisper, his dark blue eyes glossed over with
unshed tears. "I love you." His lips brushed along hers. "Don't do this to me." He cupped her face and kissed her with desperation. Needing to hold this moment for just a while longer.

"How can you ask me to live without you?" He asked,
his warm lips pressed against Ellie's tears stained cheeks. "How can I just walk away? You're everything to me." Devlin held her back just as tightly. "Everything, Ellie."

"I'm so sorry.”

"There's never going to be another you." He murmured hoarsely, his heart too big for his chest. It felt like it was going to rip through his sternum and fall at her feet.

Ellie'
s body shook as she pulled away. Blinded by tears she reached inside her shirt and tugged on the chain around her neck. "Forgive me, Devlin. Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you." She pressed her engagement ring into Devlin's hand, chain and all.

Devlin bent his head and woefully smiled. "I know." He pressed a lingering kiss to Ellie's forehead before finally allowing her freedom. She walked out of the bedroom and out of his life and Devlin thought death more fitting than the agony he was going through
in that moment.

~*~*~*~

Having received a call from her grandson earlier this morning, Miranda had taken haste and promptly ordered her chauffeur to drive her to Devlin's penthouse apartment. The trip took far longer then she'd hoped, but upon arrival she slide across the leather seat of her town car and opened the door, much too hurried to wait for the chauffeur to do it for her. The echo of Roan's voice added an extra burst to her strides.

The elevator ride was as torturous as the morning traffic pouring into their downtown metropolis, but finally the elevator stopped at its destination. The gilded elevator doors parted ways to display the twenty-fourth floor of the Voltaire. Renowned for its opulence and breathtaking views, the Voltaire boasted spacious rooms, wonderfully crafted fixtures, imported furniture and enough grandeur and pomp to satisfy even the most jaded royal.

This was home to Devlin Westport.

On the first year of their anniversary, Devlin had purchased this penthouse with Ellie's help, with the hope that they'd escape here, every year after that on the day they'd first met and share nothing but each other and they had---in all the three years since finding each other, they'd spent the night here. Those were fond memories, beautiful memories that constantly played in his mind's eye.

"Devlin..." Miranda settled her handbag on the
coffee table and proceeded to where her only child sat. "Darling." She crooned.

He sat in his favorite chair, leather of course. It sat low to the ground, the rays from the sun shown its brilliant burgundy shade. His arms rested upon the wide arms of the couch, in his left hand he limply held on to a glass tumbler. His chestnut mane, showing the lack of care drooped lifelessly in his face, obscuring his weary, red-rimmed eyes from the world. A small forest of facial hair sprouted around his jaw, clearly indicating a few days without a shave. He wore a royal blue bathrobe made of fleece that was slightly opened at the throat to display the white shirt beneath and on his feet, he wore nothing.

He looked a disparaging mess and Miranda hadn't the slightest idea what could've possibly caused this.

"Devlin," She called again, strolling around to stand between him and the breathtaking view of the sky that held him captivated. She tentatively reached out and brushed his oily fringe from his face. "My love, what's happened? And where is Roan?"

Vacant blue eyes peered back at her and for a long moment, Miranda held the image of grief within that one gaze, but soon, he turned away and touched his lips to the tumbler he held. "I had my chauffeur take him to school. I didn't want him to see me like this."

"And why is that you are
 like this?"

"She loved it here," he whispered absentmindedly,
disregarding her gentle inquiry. "She used to love sitting here with me, doing nothing. Just sitting, enjoying the view...each other...I'm going to miss her." The tumbler found his lips once more.

"Who? Ellie? Devlin, what in God's name is going on! And more importantly where is Ellie? Have you called her?" Miranda frantically inquired, dropping to her knees to better observe her troubled son.

"I can't really tell you of Ellie's whereabouts, Mother, I don't even know." he sighed softly, finding that his tumbler had gone on empty, "although I can safely bet that she's shacking it up with Nicholas right about now."

"Don't be ridiculous!" given the severity of the situation, Miranda was befitted the slight shrill in her voice. She could rightfully admit that she did not handle surprises very well and she was very surprised-astounded even that her son could say something so absurd with such a blasé demeanor. "Enough of this, Devlin!" she shook him as any caring parent would of a downtrodden child. "What's all this about? Did you and Ellie have an argument? Is that what this is? Do you wish for me to call her?"

With a heaving sigh, Devlin rose to his feet, walking pass his kneeling mother, he ambled to the liquor cabinet, his movements sluggish and delayed. "Calling her won't make a difference, mother." he'd finished the bottle of bourbon last night and opened the whiskey this morning, by this evening that too would be gone. "She stopped caring about me the minute Nicholas stepped back into the picture." He swallowed the whiskey and unlike the rich, seduction of bourbon, the whiskey burned on its journey down his gullet. It was an abrasive, bitter sort of burn that didn't stop until he washed it down with a few gulps of saliva and even then, the taste remained.

Just like his relationship with Ellie, the aftertaste, was acrid and painful.

Dawning crossed Miranda's patrician features "She didn't…she couldn't have…"

Devlin laugh
ed humorlessly. "Oh but she did." He fingered the diamond ring, a memory flashed back to a few months ago, on the evening he'd slid the ring on Ellie's finger. Devlin had never felt so lucky. His joy then had only rivaled the birth of his son. "There isn't going to be a wedding."

Miranda hurried to Devlin's side, her mind racing, incapable of understa
nding much of anything. "But…how? How did this happen, this can't be the end, Devlin! She loves you!"

He snorted, "Apparently not enough," he closed his hand around the ring. "It seems I don't
 complete her, Nicholas, however does."

"So you've given up? Three years and this is it? You won't fight for her?"

"HOW CAN I FIGHT FOR HER WHEN SHE DOES NOT WANT ME?" he roared, his grief and frustration festered, slowly eating away at his tender core. "What choice do I have?" he took another gulp of the whiskey, clutched at the tumbler as a crippled man would a crutch. "She does not want me." he sounded so broken.

"Oh my, Devlin" Miranda attempted to embrace him, but he dodged her a
dvances. "Devlin…"