“Mommy and Daddy to the rescue,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“You’re staying with your parents? Dr. McMillan is your mother?”
“Yep.” Devon nodded so vigorously he thought his head would bobble right off his shoulders.
The man sighed. “Don’t move. I’m calling a cab.”
Devon slumped forward until his forehead rested on the bar. Thoughts rotated through his brain, but most were too fleeting to make sense. There was one though; one that stuck. Vince needed to die. Devon needed to kill him. Hailey would be fine with her grandparents.
“She’ll be fine,” he said as he picked up his head. The room spun around him.
“She sure will,” the man replied.
~~~
DEVON WOKE TO AN EARTHQUAKErocking his bed and sunlight streaming into his eyes. He groaned and rolled over.
“Mornin’, buttercup.”
“Go away,” Devon moaned.
“No can do. Get your ass up.”
He rolled to his back as the mattress shook underneath him. The light scalded his eyeballs when he tried to focus on his cheerful brother. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Somebody left their car at the bar last night because they thought it would be fun to get drunk. So we’re going to go get it. And then I’m going to strangle you,” Caleb said in good humor, sitting on the edge of the bed and bouncing up and down.
Devon groaned another time. “Keep that up and I’ll puke on you.”
Caleb laughed. “Come on, I made coffee. Mom is at work already, and Dad went to the grocery store with Hailey. Get your sorry ass up.”
Hailey. Devon could be glad she wasn’t home to see him in his hungover state, but he’d still failed as a parent. The night before, he’d only thought of the pain and how to drown it, not of the daughter who needed him. He pushed at Caleb until he got off the bed and went into the bathroom. In order to wake himself up, he took a cold shower, then he joined Caleb downstairs after getting dressed. He tried to ignore the multitude of twinkling lights and garlands decorating the living room.
“I’m not even looking forward to Christmas this year,” Devon announced when he entered the kitchen.
“You're a dumbass, you know that?” Caleb responded.
Devon frowned. Yes, he already knew that. “Why this time?”
Caleb handed his brother a cup of coffee. “Your daughter is alive. She’s healing. She’s happy and not traumatized. Enjoy the damn holiday.”
Digesting his brother’s suggestion, he took a sip from his mug. “Vince—”
“Is a disgusting piece of shit. Don't let him run your life.”
“He isn't running my life,” Devon protested.
“No? Then what was last night?” Caleb crossed his ankles and leaned against the counter.
“I wanted to forget.” Devon stared into the black liquid in his cup. “I can’t keep going in circles over what I missed.”
“We all missed it. That’s how crazy people work, brother.”
The ache and throb was there in his chest, the stone in his gut. He hated feeling helpless. He wanted to fix it but he didn't know how. “I want him dead, Caleb. I’ve wanted it since I thought it was a random stranger looking to harm her on purpose. I still want it even though it was my best friend. He doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as Hailey.”
“He’s not. He’s breathing the same air as Bubba the axe murderer.” Caleb closed the distance between them and put an arm around Devon. “He’s not walking away from this. Put him out of your mind.”
That was his greatest wish, but he didn't know how to make it happen.
