Page 17 of Dev

“No!” I drop my hands to his chest, patting it so I can feel his heart beating, but he’s just still. “Corey, stop screwing around.” I grab his shoulders and shake him, rattling the gates so hard they almost come off their hinges. “Corey!” I’ll keep yelling his name till he hears me, because he can’t be dead.

“Prez, it’s Vike you need to get out front. It’s Corey…He’s…He’s dead.” I hear Vike’s voice come from behind me and spin around.

“No…Why are you sayin’ that? He ain’t dead.” I storm toward him, gripping his cut and shaking him, too. “He’s not fuckin’ dead. You’re not dead.” I look back at my brother. My little brother, the boy I’ve spent my entire life protecting. “You’re not dead.” I stumble back toward him, dropping to my knees and wrapping my arms around his waist. “You're not. You can’t be.” My voice comes out weak, and when I feel Vike grip hold of my shoulder, I look up at him and shake my head. “He can’t be. I…I protect him. I..I take care of him.”

We both look to the other side of the gates when Raze comes rushing out the arch into the parking lot, and he stops dead when he sees us.

“Fuck.” He covers his mouth with both his hands, closing his eyes and turning away from us, and I feel everything around me crumble when I realize this is real.

“Help me get him down.” I grip my brother's blood-stained shirt as I grapple up from my knees to stand.

“We’re gonna find out who did this, Dev.” Vike grabs my face in his hands and shakes me. “We’ll find out and we’ll fuckin’ gut ‘em,” he promises, but his words don’t fuckin’ matter.

Nothing matters anymore.

I failed.

“Sweetheart.” I hear my mom's voice come from the other side of the door after she’s knocked. “Sweetheart… Can I come in?”

“Sure.” I stretch myself awake and lift my cell off the pillow to check what time it is.

It’s eight thirty, on my day off. Mom never wakes me when it’s my day off.

“Hey, honey.” She smiles at me softly as she lets herself inside. It’s the same smile she put on for me before she told me our family dog, Flur, had to be put down. It’s the one she greeted all the guests to Grandma's funeral with, so it has me instantly on edge. I watch as she steps closer to my bed and sits on the edge of my mattress, knowing that she’s going to break something bad to me.

“Your father just received a phone call from the Dirty Souls’ clubhouse.” Her hand rests over mine and clears her throat.

“Dev?” I whisper his name as I stare back at her in confusion. My heart starts to beat too fast, and my mouth suddenly goes dry. “Is he okay?”

“Dev? I…The woman who rang was one of the…Your father believes she was the leader's partner.” She looks unsure. “I assume they must have had his number from that fundraiserthey all invited themselves to.” Her nose screws up in disgust. “But that’s not what matters.” She must notice how confused I look because she makes that smile again.

“I’m so sorry, Millie.” Her hand tightens around mine, and I see a genuine sadness in her eyes when they start filling with tears.

“Mom, what is it? What happened?” I pull away from her, starting to get scared.

“It’s Corey, sweetheart. He’s….” She sucks in a breath. “He’s dead.” She wraps me up in a hug before I have the chance to react, and I let her hold me while the words she just spoke sink in.

“Corey?” I eventually pull away to separate us, and she nods her head, taking the tissue that's tucked in her watch and dabbing her eyes.

“Corey?” I repeat his name, in case she’s got it wrong. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Corey can’t be dead, there's no way Dev would ever let that happen.

“I’m afraid so, darling.” She places her palm on my leg. “Your father thought it might be better for me to break the news; he doesn’t know any details yet. But the club thought you should know.”

“No, Mom.” I shake my head, refusing to believe it.

“We’re so sorry, sweetie.” My dad steps into my room as if he’s been waiting for the right moment. “And I mean that sincerely. We may not have been happy about you and Corey’s relationship, but we’ve always seen that he was a decent boy.” His hand grips Mom's shoulder.

“I have to go.” I quickly climb out of bed so I can gather some clothes.

“Go? Go where?” Mom stands up and watches me in shock.

“To the club, I have to find out what happened to him.” I pick up some jeans and a clean t-shirt, then, scrubbing my face, I try to focus.

“Your father will speak to their leader as soon as things have calmed down,” Mom assures me.

“President, Mom. He’s their president,” I correct her, feeling my breath getting harder to reach. “And I need to be there. I need to be with Dev.”

“Dev, who on Earth is Dev?” She looks between me and my father as if he knows all the answers.

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