The Lost Days (Prairie Town Book 3) (20 page)

“W-what are you doing?” Devin’s voice filled with panic as Nick exited the kitchen and jogged up the stairs.  “Nick! What are you going to do?”

“Calm down, babe.” He yelled back to him as he rushed into his bedroom and pulled open the closet door.  “I’m just getting dressed.”

“But for what?” Devin was in the bedroom only a few seconds later, panting heavily.  “You always take a shower after your workouts – you’re skipping a step.”

“Well spotted.” He snickered, grabbing for a clean shirt.  “I just want to be ready when your mom gets here—
if
she gets here.”

“But why?”

“Just trust me, okay?” He tugged his shirt on and turned around to gaze at him.  Devin was as white as a ghost, worried evident on his handsome face.  “You have to trust me.”

“I do.” Devin blinked, and swallowed hard.  “I do trust you, Nick.  I just don’t trust him.”

“Don’t worry about him.” He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in for a quick kiss.  “He’s never going to hurt you again, I promise.”

“I believe you,” Devin whispered with a nod.

“And he’s not going to hurt your mom anymore either.  If that’s what’s bothering you so much, I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t think it will be that easy...”

“It never is. But, we’ll figure something out.  Your mom doesn’t have to go back to that house.”

“What makes you think she’ll listen?”

“I don’t know that she will, but it won’t hurt to try.” Pecking at his forehead, he turned to finish getting ready.  “Go wait for her, all right?  I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

—————

D
evin

His nerves were getting the best of him as he gazed out the window, waiting to see his mother’s headlights come into view.  Nearly an hour had already passed by since she’d called, and worry was feasting on his innards.

She’ll come this time.

But what if she didn’t?  She’d already promised to stop by four times, and each time ended in disappointment.

She always had an excuse, too.

Swallowing his nerves back into place, he closed the curtain and rested his forehead against the wall, eyes closing.

Was it true?  Did his father abuse her?

Did he abuse me?

Sometimes he worried the feelings he had when he was in his father’s presence were only psychological.  Maybe his dad wasn’t really so bad.

Laney wouldn’t warn me about him if he weren’t as bad as I feel he is.

His hand instinctively flew to his chest, resting right where that damn dragon tattoo was.  Though permanently scarred by the hideous ink, Devin often wondered why he’d gotten it.  What did it mean?

He didn’t like to think about the possibilities, but the conversation had come up late one night when Nick was touching him.

“Have you ever noticed that it feels like you’ve got a scar right here?” He asked as his fingers slid down the center of his chest.

“Yeah.” Devin’s eyes remained closed as he found comfort in Nick’s gentle caresses.  But that didn’t last long as he began to wonder about that stupid scar. 

He knew it was there.  He knew that at one time his former self had tried to conceal it; what he didn’t know, however, was how the hell it got there.

“Do you think, maybe, you’ve got a heart condition or something?  Maybe it came from surgery?”

“I don’t know.” He rolled onto his side, away from Nick, and gazed at the wall.  “I’m pretty sure someone would have said something if I had a condition like that.  It’s pretty serious.”

“Be that as it may, it’s possible they forgot to tell you.”

“We’ll just add it to the list of things Devin doesn’t know about his life.” He nuzzled against his pillow and sighed.  “It doesn’t matter what it is; I despise that tattoo.”

“Have you considered getting a cover up?”

“It’d take a mighty big tattoo to hide that thing.”

Nick gripped his arm and slowly rolled him back over to face him, their gazes locking.

“Then we’ll get you something awesome, something better.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe...” Nick bit at his lip as he circled his finger around one nipple, causing Devin to suck in a sharp breath.  “Hm. I guess it depends on what you like.”

“I like you.” He chuckled lightly. 

“Oh, yeah? What do you like about me?”

“I like the way you kiss me.”

“Mm. Like this?” Nick’s mouth sealed over his in a hot passionate kiss.

“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled away, licking at his tingling lips.

“What else?”

“I like...the way you touch me.” His heart sped up.

“Oh? You mean like this?” Nick’s warm palm pressed flat against his stomach before sliding downwards.

“Yes.” He was rock hard. Again.

“I bet you do.” Nick teased, curling his fingers around him.  “Do you like when I do this?”

Lifting his head to watch him, a soft groan slid past his parted lips as Nick scooted down on the bed and allowed his tongue to swirl around the head of his length.

“God, yes.”

“I thought so.” Nick’s gaze moved to his, smoldering and filled with promises of pleasure.  “I like doing this for you, just for the record.”

Forcing the memory to fade to black, he grabbed the curtain and pulled it open again, waiting as patiently as he could for his mother to appear.

“Come on, Mom,” he mumbled, tapping impatient fingertips against the glass.  “Where are you?”

“She’ll be here,” Nick said, sliding his arms around him from behind.  “She’ll come this time.”

“This coming from the guy who doubted her an hour ago?” His jawline tightened as he leaned back against him, trying to find comfort in the embrace of his lover.

What will she think of this?

Nick’s lips touched the side of his neck, light as a feather, and he let his head loll to the side to give him better access.

“Do you think she’ll know?” He asked after a long moment of silence.  “About us?”

“Only if you decide to tell her.” A hearty chuckle sounded from Nick as he squeezed him affectionately.  “It’s not like you have a big ‘I like dick’ sign stamped on your forehead, Dev-o.”

“I haven’t even touched your dick. You won’t let me.”

“All in due time, babe. All in due time.  You know I’m trying to work out the details first.”

“Kelly,” he affirmed, nodding in understanding.  “What was the deal with you two today anyway?  She seemed upset.”

“I know she is.” Nick groaned.  “But I’ll make it up to her.”

“Yeah, you’re good at that.  I hope we can—oh! There she is!” He hadn’t intended to get so excited about it, but once he saw his mother’s Cadillac come into view, happiness and relief overpowered everything else.

He wiggled free from Nick’s grasp and ran to the door, flinging it open.

There she was.

Jumping off the top step and nearly killing himself in the process, he rushed to the driver’s side door and pulled her door open.  Even though he couldn’t remember anything about his childhood, he was getting really good at going with his gut instinct, and at that very moment, his instinct was to wrap her up in the biggest hug he could manage.

“Devin, what on Earth?” His mother was helpless as he wrapped his arms around her before she could manage to get out of the car.  “What has gotten into you?” Her arms wrapped around him, somewhat hesitantly, and she hugged him back.

“Hi, Mama,” he whispered, and he buried his face against her hair, inhaling as deeply as he could.  “I’m so happy to see you.”

There was something so comforting about the scent of her shampoo.  It was almost...familiar, and that was rare for him.  Nothing was familiar these days aside from Nick’s affection for him.

But this was old, and in the best way possible.

“I’m very happy to see you, too, Devin, but you’re choking me.”

“Oh.” He released her and stepped back, grinning from ear to ear as his heart did backflips and somersaults.  How wonderful it was to feel such exhilaration from seeing
someone
in his family.

But his happiness was short lived when she got out of the car and the street light shined down on her.  The dark bruise surrounding her left eye—the same color as his—caused an animalistic rage to take over.

“He hit you,” he said through clenched teeth.

“He didn’t.” Her voice quivered.  “That’s not what happened at all, Devin.  Don’t be silly.”

“Please don’t lie to me, Mother.  Be decent enough to tell me the truth about something, for once.” He gently grabbed her wrist as she tried to get past him and she slowly met his gaze.  “Please, Mother.  Did he do this to you?”

“Devin, you don’t want to get involved with this.  Not again.” Tears sparkled in her eyes and her chin began to quiver as she tugged her wrist free.  “I brought you some more clothes.  I thought you might need them.”

“Mama, please—”

“Please stop.” She opened the trunk and stared at him, anguish marring her beautiful face.  “Just...just help me take these clothes in, won’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He would give in.  For now.

“Hello, Mrs. Rose,” Nick greeted her when they entered the house.

“Oh, hello...um, Nick, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Ma’am.  It’s nice to see you again.” He glanced at Devin worriedly, undoubtedly spotting her black eye—it was hard to miss.

Pleading with his eyes, Devin hoped Nick wouldn’t say anything about it.  They would just have to worry about their plan to get his mother away from his father at a later time.  At the moment he was just grateful she was there.

“Where shall I put these?” Mrs. Rose questioned, dropping the bag full of clothes onto the floor.  “Where is your bedroom, sweetheart?”

“It’s upstairs.” His hands made their way into his pants pockets and he glanced at Nick again.

Nick gave him a nod of encouragement before gripping Mrs. Rose’s elbow gently.  “I can show you where it’s at if you like.”

“Oh, thank you.  You’re so polite.” She smiled.  “I’d appreciate if you could, Nick—or is it Nicholas? Which do you prefer?”

“Nick is fine,” he replied as he grabbed the bag and guided her up the stairs.  “Would you like to stay for dinner, Mrs. Rose?”

“Dinner?  Oh...I don’t know...”

Please say yes,
Devin pleaded silently as he followed behind them.

Not only would it give him more time with her, but maybe he could convince her to leave his father as well; two birds, one stone.

“We can have anything you like; I’ve got some fresh shrimp I can bake for us.  Have you ever had lemon-garlic shrimp?”

“I can’t say that I have, but that sounds delicious.” Mrs. Rose stepped into her son’s bedroom and came to an abrupt halt.  As her eyes scanned the room, Devin watched her upper lip curl back in dismay.  “This is where you sleep, Devin?”

“I know it doesn’t look like much,”—he stepped past her and hastened to fix the blankets on his futon—“but it’s actually really comfortable.”

What she didn’t know, though, was he hadn’t slept in his room in at least a week.  Nick always pulled him into his room for late night make-out sessions and they ended up falling asleep together.

He liked it that way.

“Sweetheart, you have a perfectly good bed at home.” She was on the verge of tears.  “Why didn’t you let me send your things?  I could have sent them, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be any trouble,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.  “Besides...it’s not really
my
bed, is it?”

Opening her mouth to say something, Mrs. Rose’s eyebrows pinched together and she simply shook her head.

Somehow, Devin knew nothing in that house actually belonged to him.  Hell, he wasn’t even sure
he’d
belonged to
himself
, and that caused him to feel sick.

“I’m going to get him a bed, Mrs. Rose.  There’s no need for you to worry about that.” Nick swooped in to save the day.  “Why don’t you two take a few minutes to catch up and I’ll go get dinner started?”

“Oh. Well, if you insist,” Mrs. Rose replied softly.  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay for dinner.  My husband is out of town for a business meeting.”

“Business meeting?” Devin echoed. 

“Yes, for the ice company.  Don’t you remember me telling you about that, sweetheart? Your father owns Rose Ice Company. In fact, you used to work there and you were very high on the chain of command.  And...”—she sighed and hugged her arms around herself—“I suppose everything I say just sounds silly to you.”

“It doesn’t sound silly, Mama.” He leaned down to pick up a bag of clothes and clutched it between his hands, gazing at her with a small smile.  “Thank you for bringing my clothes to me.  I only packed a few outfits.”

“I know.” She nodded.  “That’s why I wanted to bring them to you.  I’ve just had a lot to do lately and I couldn’t get away until now.”

He lifted an eyebrow. 

“From my responsibilities at home, I mean,” she added quickly.  “Laundry and cooking, you know.  A wife always has duties, Devin.”

He wanted to believe her.  He really did.  But he couldn’t shake the feeling that she meant something else when she said, ‘get away.’

And then a horrible thought struck him:

What if her black eye was his fault?

“Sweetie, did you hear me?”

Ignoring the painful lump forming in his throat, he slowly turned away from his dresser and stared at the fragile woman standing behind him.  She seemed so frightened and out of place as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, gazing at him with uncertainty.

“No, Mama.  I’m sorry.  I was lost in my thoughts.”

“That must happen a lot.” Her soft, warm palm lifted to rest against his cheek.  “Doctor Thompson said your mind may wander, never giving up on the search for your memories.  I cannot imagine how exhausting that is for you, sweetheart.  How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” he lied. 

That was the furthest thing from the truth.  He wasn’t fine because he was worried about her.  He wasn’t fine because he feared for her safety.  There was no way he could let her leave and go back home to that monster.

Even if he never remembered the horrors of his past, his body would somehow never let him forget.