Page 43 of Vendetta

“After what you told me? After whatshetold me? You ignored me. While I was waiting for you, pining away for you, you were out there fucking her, and you want me to sit in this room with her?” I put down the fruit salad, having lost my appetite.

“She’s the only one around here I can trust with you,” he says tightly, breaking eye contact.

“Why don't you just fucking do it, Devon? Kill me. Get it over with. I’m sure it would hurt less than having her thrown in my face all day long,” I say dramatically, moving to leave. He grabs onto my upper arm, holding me in place.

“Wejustwent through this,” he grinds out. "I told you, it wasn't like?—”

“Would you want to sit locked up in a room with the guyIwas with while we were apart?” I interrupt him in a fake sweet tone. There weren't any other guys, unless you count my BOB, and even then there was only him in my head.

His fingers tighten around my arm, but he ignores my question. “There's no other choice.”

“Okay. Fine. While you’re at it, why don’t you bring in all the other women you’ve been with, too? Maybe we can bondover the size of your dick.” I shake off his hand and walk to the bathroom. I take off my shirt, which was the only item of clothing I had on, and turn on the water for the shower. I take my sweet time, knowing that when I walk out Devon will be gone.

DEVON

I find Hayley sitting on the floor in front of my room, wearing the same clothes she did the day before, all wrinkled. She looks tired, there's no glow to her cheeks like there usually is, and her blonde hair is a mess. I'm guessing she slept here, or something. Or didn't sleep at all.

I sit down next to her, not saying anything. By now, my anger has subsided. If anything, I know it was directed at the wrong person. I'm the one who fucked up; she didn't lie to Leighton.

“I'm sorry about last night,” she says. “And for everything.” She looks at me when she says the last part.

I take her hand in mine and squeeze. I'm the one who's supposed to say sorry.

“Sometimes when I look at you, I still see that thirteen-year-old boy sitting in front of my father's office.” She sighs, letting go of my hand. I get a flashback of a little blonde girl with pigtails sitting next to me, and offering me her chocolate. She looked like an angel sent from heaven when my world was falling apart. “You were so lost. I wanted to make things right for you even back then.”

“I know.” I find it hard to swallow. “It’s me who has to apologize. I used you.”

“Eh, you're not the only one to blame. I always wondered what it would be like between the two us.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “So, will you tell me what’s going on?”

“It's a long story,” I say after a couple of minutes. It's not that I don't trust her, or anything like that. I just feel like what happened between Leighton and me isn't something I want to share. Not just with her, but with anyone.

She waits another beat for me to continue. When I say nothing else, she moves to sit across from me, putting her hands on my knees. “Long enough to love her?”

I hang my head in shame.

“You've lost so much, Devon,” she finally says. “And you've said it yourself, you're almost there. You can't let her get in the way.”

My head snaps up at her words. “Hales. All my life I've worked for this. You, of all people, should know I'd never let anything get in the way of that.”

“Would you, though? Even—” She looks toward the end of the hallway, then whispers, “—even Leighton?"

I think of Leighton, last night, a year ago, all those years ago. I've hated her far longer than I've loved her. I've hated myself for wanting her, then I've hated us both for loving her. It seems everything about her is just... hate.

“Even her.”

“Nice of you to join us,” Stevie says when I enter my uncle's office. Frank's eyes follow me curiously as I approach the desk and sit in one of the two empty chairs. I ignore him.

“I've had something to do.”

“Or someone,” Stevie says, laughing. I still, trying not to panic. How the fuck does he know what I did last night? Nobody saw me go to her room. We weren't even that loud, we never are. He slaps me on the shoulder like he does every time he approves of something I do. I look at Frank to find him still watching me, studying me. He drums his fingers on the table, and if I didn't know better I'd think he was nervous.

When Stevie sees my expression, which is probably guilty as hell, he laughs again. “Is that the Fletcher girl's car in the driveway? Mac’s kid?”

I relax. He thinks I was with Hayley last night. “Yeah.”

My uncle's fingers still drill the table.

“Been seein' a lot of her lately. She spend the night?”

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