He and Caleb went to the bar, separating after Devon retrieved his car; Caleb back to his wife and baby, and Devon to the shop. He’d missed seeing Hailey and wondered not for the first time if she was better off with his parents instead of him.
When he spotted the blue compact car in the lot, he glanced at the clock. He was a few minutes later than he’d told Olivia he would arrive. She got out of her car when he pulled in, and they entered the shop together. Olivia stood near the door while Devon went around turning on the lights and the computer.
“Mr. McMillan, is everything okay now?”
He froze and looked up. “What do you mean?”
Avoiding his gaze, she twisted the toe of one shoe on the floor. “The man from yesterday won’t get out of jail and come back, will he?”
He squeezed his fists until his damaged knuckles protested. “Are you asking me if I’m going to get into any other fights?”
“I just want to know if this is a safe place to work since there have been a few incidents now.”
“One of those incidents being my young daughter wandering out of the shop and subsequently being hit by a vehicle. Are you planning on walking out into traffic, Olivia?”
She whipped her head up, her black ponytail flying behind her. “Of course not.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Mr. Buckley is in jail to stay and I’m not violent by nature.” Seeking to prove his own point, he relaxed his fists and placed his hands flat on the counter. “Are you ready to get started?”
He ran Olivia through what he’d taught her the day before. She remembered everything, so he moved on to scheduling and professionalism. No cars came into the lot, the phone did not ring, and Devon wondered if he could salvage the remains of a once-thriving business.
At the end of the day, he went home to Hailey. He’d missed her, but he felt like shit after the amount of alcohol he'd had the night before. He popped a few aspirins before tracking down his father and daughter in the kitchen.
“Bug!”
Her face lit up as she turned to look at him. “Daddy!”
Devon went to her side and kneeled by the wheelchair to hug her, not letting go until she squirmed and giggled.
“Are you helping Grandpa make dinner?” He stood to his full height and glanced at Don.
“I gave her a bowl to stir. She did great.”
Hailey grinned. “I didn’t spill or anything!”
“Good job, sweetie.” Devon sat at the table, watching his dad work at the stove. The what-ifs wouldn’t leave him. What if he did something terrible? Who would keep Hailey? His parents would. What if he actually could get to Vince somehow? Did he have it in him to bring him lasting harm? He told Olivia he wasn’t violent by nature, and that used to be true. Now he didn’t know. He knew nothing.
“Devon?”
He looked up. “Yeah?”
“I’ve asked you the same question twice now. You all right?”
“Uh, sure. I guess I was daydreaming.”
Don frowned. “Could you set the table, please? Lydia will be home soon and this is almost ready.”
“Absolutely.”
Devon kissed Hailey on the head as he walked around her chair to get to the cupboard with the dishes. He couldn't keep his mind from wandering, from going down the rabbit hole. He could be the Mad Hatter for all the insanity running through his head. He wanted to go, to run, to leave his family to learn to love without him. He attracted disaster and death. He was no good.
His phone rang, and the sound drew his attention from the stack of plates he set on the table. Striding to the front hall, he plucked his phone from the spot where he’d left it.
“Hello?”
“It’s John.”
Devon sighed, thinking he couldn't deal with any more bad news. “What can I do for you?”
