Devil in the Waters, Book 8, Chapter 9b

Devlin said, “Shoot— Ask me and I’ll tell you, Josh.”

“What happened at Tiffany’s cottage?”

“What about it?”

Josh repeated: “What happened at Tiffany’s cottage?”

“Kimmy told you.”

“Not between you and Kimmy. Kimmy told me about that. What happened between you and me?”

Devlin leaned back, eyebrow arched like it amused him. “This is what it comes down to? This thing you keep saying to me and I don’t know what it is? It’s like you expect I know something I don’t know.”

Josh persisted. “Did I talk to you?”

“For a little. Yeah.”

“What did I say?”

“I don’t really remember, Josh.” He leaned forward again. “This is what it all really comes down to?”

An uncomfortable yet shakeable feeling shivered through him. Josh of three months ago would have withered being face-to-face with Devlin this way. Yet now he was armored against his most feared tormentor. Sitting across the table from him like this, he felt no fear. Not anymore. That was Kimmy’s doing. “It really does.”

Devlin leaned back again, eyebrows raised; like a man in a confessional with nothing to hide. “It was you and me at the table. Kimmy was talking to somebody, I don’t remember. I was watching her. You were watching me watch her, and then you started talking about her, unprovoked. Amy came over—”

“Amy wasn’t with Kimmy?”

“I guess they were. Kind of. I mean they weren’t attached at the hip or anything.”

“This was at the picnic table?”

“Yeah. You and I were at the picnic table. You were . . . Can I be frank?”

“Drunk,” Josh said.

“Sloppy, dude. Super sloppy. I stay away from bourbon. Too easy to down it.”

“It snuck up on me.” He fiddled with the clean cutlery a moment, eyes averted to his hands. Not fearful to look in Devlin’s black eyes, but lost in the fog of that night’s war. He should be angry at this guy. Should be angry that Devlin tried to make out with his wife while he was drunk. But an emptiness swirled around that knowledge now. The bitter tang of that truth had been sweetened by Kimmy. They’d worked together to transform it to something else. Something that united them as husband and wife rather than separate them. He looked up again. “But what did I say? What did you say?”

Devlin laughed and looked up to the restaurant’s high ceiling. “About what, Josh?” He was amused but exasperated. “ Just tell me what it is, because I swear to you, Josh, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And you never came into my tent later?”

Devlin put up his hands. “Why the hell would I do that?— Oh no, did you have a nightmare about me and you think I did something I didn’t do?”

Josh smiled a little, the amusement on Devlin’s face showcasing some of the humor in the very things he was saying. Dammit. He really was his own worst enemy. He said, “Amy was there?”

“Yeah. She was hanging with me.”

“Did she say something to me?”

“Yes. She was between us. She was saying stuff to you to.”

“What was it?”

Devlin shrugged, like the pressure for minuscule details from months ago irritated him. It was trivial to Devlin, but not to Josh. Devlin said, “I wasn’t paying attention. It was like ten minutes I was sitting there like that. Amy would lean over and say things to you. You guys were getting along.”

“And you’ve never texted me?”

Devlin frowned and looked up like he was trying to recall. “I’ve texted you before, haven’t I?”

The whole escapade got slippery in Josh’s mind. Even he couldn’t grasp his own line of questioning. He was direct and straightforward, giving his old tormentor every opportunity to take credit for a victorious manipulation. But Devlin only showed befuddlement. “You’ve never taunted me?”

“Taunted you about what?”

Josh held a steady expression, watching Devlin’s dark eyes. “Just to bug me after Tiffany’s party.”

Devlin’s gaze stayed firm. Then he shook his head. His eyes downturned, his brow raised. A little more compassionate than the usual Devlin. He said, “I know you probably expect that from me. But I swear, Josh, I don’t have time for that bullshit anymore. I’m under a lot of pressure, I’ve got a lot of plans on the go, I have a lot on my plate right now. High school . . .” He grew quiet, like there was something he didn’t want to say. He twiddled his thumbs a second that said, “My home life was stressful. I took a lot of shit out on other people. Did they deserve it? No way. You know some of them kinda asked for it. But that’s still not even their fault. They draw people like me to them. Not that it’s their fault: you can’t blame magnets for their nature.”

“That’s all I want to know. I want to know who texted me after the party to taunt me.”

“What did the text say?”

“If it wasn’t you who sent it, I’m not even going to think about it. I had a suspicion—”

Devlin’s eyes darted to Josh’s, then he laughed. “Amy. Is that your suspicion?”

“I thought maybe—”

Devlin shook his head, still chuckling. “That bitch is so crazy, dude. I don’t know how can we can be friends with her. She is a straight up serial killer.”

And like that, the line of questioning went into his rearview mirror, and he wasn’t sure what he’d seen. His mind scrambled to make sense of it. But Devlin’s warmth and the reasonable doubt iterated here at the table got Josh relaxed a little. “Yeah,” he said, “that new haircut doesn’t help.”

“I know,” Devlin said. “She is fucked up. And, honest to God, that girl will do anything in bed. Not that you need to know that about Amy, but I feel it has to be said.” He lounged in his chair, pleased with himself. “So what you’re telling me is Amy charged you up over something and you blamed me.” And then, almost admiringly, he said, “My God, I bet that girl set me up. Probably worked to make it seem like it was me. . . . Amy is an unregistered sex offender, Josh.”

Something about this talk of nefarious Amy aroused him. A heaviness throbbed between his legs thinking about it. And thinking about something else—thinking about his wife’s involvement with such nefarious sexual players. Josh leaned in and said, “Kimmy said . . .” And then he lost his nerve. Then got it again. “Said Amy tried to get her in bed.”

Devlin smirked to one side, unsure of what he should say. He nodded, eyeing Josh with careful measure.

Josh offered it up to let Devlin off the hook, encourage him to reveal the truth. “In bed with you and Amy I mean.”

“Yes,” Devlin said, nodding but expressionless, afraid to laugh or smile without knowing Josh’s thoughts. “She did do that. You know Kimmy took off, right?”

“She told me.”

“I had no idea Amy was going to do that. I thought she brought a friend over to study. Kimmy showed up in a”—he drew a a figure over the center of his chest—“like a sweatshirt with a—”

“Bunny on it or something.”

“Something like that. Some cartoon character. She looked like she was twelve.”

“She doesn’t look like it now.” Saying it out loud made Josh’s heart beat faster.

“No,” Devlin said, smiling and looking off, “not at all. Not at all.”

The way he said it, earnest and salacious, punched Josh in the stomach. But it was the truth. And of course Devlin noticed. Devlin was fucking responsible for Kimmy’s transformation. Kimmy wouldn’t look the way she did now if she hadn’t met Devlin at Tiffany’s party

“She likes her job,” Josh said.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yep,” they both said, their talk dwindling—Josh not sure how much more he could say without making a mistake—both of them looking around to see if their food would arrive soon. They drank more whiskey, then Devlin chin-pointed. Josh looked over his shoulder to see their lunch on the way.

The waitress arrived, proud of her efficiency. It had been a fast service. The restaurant wasn’t that busy, and Devlin prompted her best performance. “Here we go, guys. Can I get you anything else?”

They declined, and Devlin waved her off. Josh said after her, “We’re good, thanks.”

Devlin cut into his steak, unimpressed. He examined it for a second, then changed his mind, beginning to nod and show a satisfied expression. “Pretty fucking good.”

“I’m starving,” Josh said.

Devlin took another bite. Chewed. Took a sip of water. Looked up and met Josh’s eyes. “So are we going to talk about what the heck was going on with you two in Cayman?”

Heat raced the back of Josh’s neck. “What do you mean?”

Devlin’s amused eyes narrowed. “You guys were playing some game on me. I don’t know what it was.”

Josh’s throat went dry and he cleared it. “I don’t think we were.”

“Josh, you wanted me to be honest. You be honest too.”

“Yeah, okay.” He shrugged, stuffed another bite in his mouth.

“So what was it?”

“It was just between us. Kimmy and I. This little thing we have going.”

“How am I a part?”

Josh raised his eyebrows. That was a good question. “Not sure you are. It’s not you in particular.”

“What is it? Come on.”

“I don’t know you well enough.” Josh couldn’t help smiling wide, a sly feeling passing over him. He laughed, took a sip of water and another bite of steak.

“No, I guess not. I like it whatever it was. I heard you give it to her good.”

Josh chuckled, and let go a chuffing of disbelief. A wild tingle of taboo shivered. They were talking about something they shouldn’t talk about and it was about his wife.

Devlin smiled too, just like Josh, leaned close and conspiratorial and whispered across the table. “Hey, Josh, what’s Kimmy like in bed?”