Page 10 of Dev

“I’ve tried that enough times. I need to speak to Raze again.” I take a deep breath for courage and make my way over to him, ignoring Peyton when she calls after me and warns that now isn’t a good time.

“Not now, kid,” Raze cuts me off before I even open my mouth.

“Prez, I just wanted to–”

“You deaf as well as stupid? I said, now ain’t the fuckin’ time. I’m tryin’ to think straight.” He knocks back whatever it is he’s drinking and growls at me.

“Is there any way I can help?” I ask, refusing to give up.

“Not unless you know how a gang of Irish mobsters, who have come outta thin fuckin’ air, have settled in my town without me knowin’ about it?” he asks sarcastically, lighting himself a smoke.

“I’m sure I could find out. I don’t know if you’ve been told lately, but I’m a fuckin’ genius.” I hit him back with a little sarcasm of my own. I know Dev is always telling everyone around here what a boy wonder I am, might as well use it to my advantage.

“Don’t get fuckin’ smart with me, kid,” he warns. “I ain’t gettin’ involved in you and Dev’s bullshit.” He shakes his head and taps his glass on the bar.

Polly heads over with a bottle of Jack and tops him up, and he thanks her with a tip of his chin.

“But if you just?—”

“I thought I told you to beat it.” He stares at me firmly, and I quickly back away, heading back out the door and onto the yard.

I guess Peyton was right, tonight when Dev comes home, me and him are gonna have a serious talk.

“Leaving already?” Trinity follows me out. “Running back to that pretty little girlfriend of yours, I’ll bet.” Her attempt at a playful giggle goes right through me.

“I’m going home,” I tell her, feeling my frustration building when I think more about what Millie is doing to me. She’s always told me I should be the person I want to be, not what everyone expects. I thought she understood me. Me and her may be fromdifferent worlds, but she gets the same kinda pressure from her parents that I get from Dev.

“You could stay, bet I could show you something new.” Her hand presses against the front of my jeans. “Everyone around here treats you like a kid. You could show ‘em all that you're a man now.” She creeps her fingers up my torso and spreads them out over my chest.

“I need to find my brother.” I pull away.

“C’mon, baby, Dev’s gonna be watching that old shipping yard all night. Why don’t you let me entertain you while you wait for him?” Her talons grip my shirt and drag me closer, and I swallow a lump in my throat when her other hand slides into the front of my jeans and clasps around my cock.

“Blessed like your brother, I see.” She giggles as her lips get closer to mine, and I let her pump me through her fist a few times while I think about my next move.

“Which shipping yard?” I ask, knowing that there ain’t many shipping yards that Burlusconi doesn't hold some kind of power over around here.

“Sorry, sweetheart, that's classified information.” She laughs at me, and I take hold of her wrist, holding it steady and preventing her from jacking me off.

“Where’s the shipping yard, Trinity?” I try to make my voice sound threatening the way Dev’s does, but it doesn’t come out the same.

“You promise you won’t do anything that gets me into trouble?” She looks up at me with innocent, puppy-dog eyes that are as fake as her tits.

“You got my word. I just wanna speak to my brother,” I assure her.

“Fine.” She lets out a deflated sigh and slides her hand free. “It’s the old Pemberton yard.” She rolls her eyes and takes a cigarette from her back pocket.

“Pemberton’s? Nothing’s run outta there for years; it’s abandoned. I used to play in that yard as a kid.” A plan instantly starts to form in my head, one that’s going to prove to everyone here that I’m not just a kid.

Raze wants information on these Irish assholes; he won’t be able to refuse giving me a shot if I get it for him.

I was only eight years old when me and Dev moved here from Nebraska, and the kids I hung around with at first were always looking to find trouble. We’d break into Pemberton’s and spend hours exploring the old containers and seeing what scrap we could salvage.

“It ain’t a playground anymore.” Trinity lights up her cigarette and exhales the first puff of smoke right into my face. “Don’t tell Dev you heard that from me. I much prefer my guts on the inside.” She smiles.

“I promise,” I assure her before rushing back to my car so I can start putting that plan of mine into action.

The Irish deciding to use the Pemberton yard is a huge advantage to me. Now, all I need is a little help from a friend.

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