Devil In The Waters, Book 5, Chapter 5 (complete)

The walk along the shaded alley was dreadful. Every doubt and weakness throbbed within him. He was exposed, two sets of eyes watching him. One his bully, the other his beautiful wife. Both of them looking well-suited together. How were his clothes? Was he walking too fast? Was that too eager? Was he walking too slow? Did that show fear? What about what he was wearing? Were they laughing at his clothes? His hair? This was like high school hallway all over again. Transported in time back ten years ago. But that was all supposed to be left behind. How ingrained was it that he could feel it now? That woman watching him wasn’t some high school bitch-queen whom he fantasized about. No, that was Kimmy Chang. Shit, no—more precisely: Kimmy Waters . . . 

The woman you married. In high school, she was just like you. In high school she was one of the good ones. Sweet and kind and studious. Compassionate. Don’t equate her with Devlin . . . 

And now, even if it looked stupider, he walked more erect, more upright. Thrusting out his chest. That worry was all ten years ago. That woman with Devlin was his wife. Devlin couldn’t be so lucky . . . 

As he drew nearer, merging into the sunlight beyond the brick archway and onto the sidewalk, Devlin hauled himself off his roadster, extended a hand to shake. “Josh Waters,” he said, “wow, it’s been a long time . . .”

“Hey, Devlin,” he said, avoiding too-long eye contact and shaking Devlin’s hand—Jesus, how big was his hand?—averting his eyes, not because he was afraid to lock them with Devlin’s but because he wanted them connected with Kimmy’s. And when his gaze met hers, she smiled, cocked her head, and they communicated between them what had been said at the table. Invite him in. I want that. He was the bigger man here. Well, not literally bigger

“Josh, I haven’t seen you in so long,” Devlin said.

“We were both at Tiffany’s.”

“Right,” Devlin said, acting like it hadn’t registered.

Josh said, “Didn’t we talk there?”

Devlin thought about it then shook his head no, saying, “I don’t think so . . .”

“Well, whatever . . . how’ve you been doing?”

“How’ve I been doing? I’m more impressed by how you’re doing . . .” His grin was sly, his dark eyes narrow.

This was all bullshit. They’d talked at the party at Tiffany’s and why the hell would he not admit it? For Kimmy’s sake?—what oies was he telling Kimmy? . . . Then again: it was Dream-Devlin who’d told him they’d talked, and Dream-Devlin may never have existed at all . . . He stayed magnanimous, a good beer buzz giving him confidence in the awkward moment, and a little kick out of standing face-to-face with this guy who’d dominated his thoughts when they were younger and not crumpling. Adult Josh doing what Young Josh was unable, despite the current fears that had taken hold of him. He said, “Why’s that?”

“You married Kimmy—my star lawyer,” he said, thumbing towards Kimmy, whose expression now transformed. The warmth went taught. Anxiousness. Or fear . . . 

“Or you hired my star wife,” he said with a smile. “But, yeah, I know how lucky I am.”

Devlin was trying to hold his gaze but he wouldn’t let him. Devlin said, “Hey, sorry I busted up your party—I didn’t mean to . . .”

“That’s all right,” he said, “did you want to come in for a beer?”

“Nah,” Devlin said, “I don’t want to intrude. I’m just passing through, anyway, heading back to Kingston . . .”

“You’re welcome to join us. I’d like to have you . . .”

“Thanks, Josh. But I just came for your wife.”

Devlin’s features had hardly changed, but he swore there was a sneer there. That was a direct statement. I came for your wife. Dream-Devlin’s words echoing in his mind right now: Just like you asked me to. Devlin telling him point-blank Oh, yeah, we definitely talked at the party, Joshy. His stomach slithered, and a sliver of anger sliced through him.

He steadied himself, his mind wrestling with those dark thoughts, not wanting to be consumed by them. Defeated by them. Don’t do his work for him, Josh. Don’t make it easy. Kimmy won’t fall for his bullshit. She’s way too smart. He smiled, nodded, looked to his wife. “What did she do?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

I won’t let her tell me because I let you get between us even when you’re not between us. I let your black magic work through me without you ever breaking a sweat casting the spell . . . “She told me a little. We’ve been busy.”

Kimmy smiled and he soaked up strength from it.

Devlin said, “Kimmy did in five business days what was going to take ABM to do in probably twelve. And every day that it went without being resolved on was costing a client money.”

“Who’s ABM?”

“Outside legal,” Devlin said, waving it away like it wasn’t interesting. “I definitely did the right thing hiring her.” Devlin looked Kimmy’s way, and Kimmy’s smile turned to Devlin. It was torture.

He cleared his throat, said, “Did you doubt it?”

“Nah, I don’t make mistakes—not like that, at least. Once I talked to her at Tiff’s, she was all I could think of.”

His hamstrings lost tension, his belly gave birth to a freezing cold stone. It was a message . . . 

But it wasn’t. It was all in his own head.

He fumbled for a response, and Kimmy’s face had tightened to a mask of fear; eyes wide, pouting lips pinched to a purse.

Devlin continued: “You remember her in high school, I don’t have to tell you. Perfect marks, so . . . dedicated. Tells me she’s a lawyer now, and I’m always looking for talent.”

Kimmy licked her lower lip, giving Devlin all the attention now, burning her gaze on his. His heart thudded at the awful sight.

Still looking at Kimmy, Devlin said, “Now I know what she’s got . . . She sure showed me . . .”

Kimmy corrected her look, resumed the blankness she used to hide her emotion, said, “It wasn’t a big deal. Just a few meetings.”

“I haven’t seen anyone turn Border Services around like that.”

Kimmy steel-eyed him, nodding.

Josh cleared his throat, said, “I’ll let you talk to her. I don’t want to intrude. Once you guys are done, seriously, Devlin, you should come back to the patio for a beer . . .” The way his heart hammered right now, it took everything he had to manufacture the unperturbed look on his face. And like Young Josh of old, he was looking to bail . . . 

“Thanks, Josh,” Devlin said, “Hey, though, don’t go . . .”

“Oh yeah?” Now all he wanted to do was go. He’d done the brave thing, coming out here, getting a close-up look at his wife standing with Devlin. Got a sense that they had a certain camaraderie together, Kimmy and Devlin. Met face-to-face with Devlin. And now a new reality was starting to sink in that he didn’t like. Kimmy had done a good job for Devlin. Devlin was glad he hired her. Things were going well. How much farther would they go . . .?—even if the dark thoughts he had were untrue . . . 

Devlin said, “What I have for Kimmy is for both of you. You’ll both enjoy it . . .” Now from an interior suit pocket, Devlin produced a cream-colored envelope, held it aloft so they both could see it. Kimmy reached for it, and Devlin moved it from her grasp.

Kimmy looked anxious again. She said, “Can I just have it, please?”

“Yeah, you can have it—but it’s for both of you,” and now Devlin moved it nearer to Josh.

Josh reached for it, then paused. Devlin said, “Take it,” and jabbed it toward him. “You do the honors, Josh.”

Kimmy said, “Josh, can I have it?”

“Let her take it,” he said, but Devlin persisted. “Josh, take it. You open it and see what’s inside . . .”

And Kimmy persisted, saying, “No, Josh, let me take it . . .”

“Why?” he said, feeling anxious now, the crazy throbbing vibes coming off his wife beginning to work simpatico on his own system. “What’s in it?”

“Open it,” Devlin encouraged, and now Kimmy’s hand retracted, surrendering to the moment, and Josh had the distinct realization that Kimmy feared what was in the envelope. What would be in it that she would be afraid of? What could be in their that would alarm her? A note from Devlin? I fucked her at Tiffany’s party. She was so tight. What else? A photograph? Now his heart pounded. A photograph of Kimmy laid out on her back, her legs open, the picture taken down a muscular body, and from between its legs sprouted an enormous tree branch of a cock. And that tree branch of a cock disappeared inside Kimmy’s tight pussy. The muscular body and huge cock unidentified, but the fact the picture was delivered by Devlin would tell just who it belonged to . . . 

When he took the envelope from Devlin, his hand was shaking. “What’s in it?”

“Your reward,” Devlin said. “Open it, and find out . . .”

***

An inventory of salacious items raced through her mind. What would fit in that envelope? He’d taken her panties inside the cargo container. There couldn’t be panties in the envelope . . . What about a picture? Remember when you spread your legs on that pallet of fertilizer and Devlin took a picture? That picture existed. Did he print it out and put it in an envelope to torture you and ruin your marriage? But why would he do that? You’re a good employee. Just made him money today. You’re a new hire. If he did that you couldn’t you make an ethics complaint? But still . . . What about last night? Maybe the bill for the suite. Something like that? Maybe after he’d fucked you into oblivion he snapped a picture of you unconscious on Royal York linen . . . What if it was just something unintentionally devastating? Something that contradicted one of her many lies told directly to Josh’s face . . . Her heart thudded, her temples pounded with her pulse.

“Hey, Josh, here let me,” she said. If she couldn’t get the envelope from Devlin, she could definitely get it from Josh.

But Josh wasn’t hearing, and she wasn’t forceful enough. Josh’s hands were trembling. What was he anxious about? He suspected her. He didn’t trust her. Knew this was going to be bad . . . 

“Hey, Josh,” she said again, “let me,” moving toward him. And Josh took a half-step backward, pulling now from the open envelope a sheaf of folded paper. Unfolding it now and reading. She crossed her arms, tightened them against her body. That trembling she saw in Josh’s hands transferring now to her knees. Josh read what was on the sheet, brow lowering as he struggled to comprehend.

I fucked her last night, Josh. I fucked your wife. She went down on me, I made her come. She told me no one makes her come like I do . . . 

When Devlin touched her arm she jumped, swiveled at the hips to pull her elbow from his grasp. It only made him smile.

She said, “What does it say?”

Josh said, “I don’t get it . . .”

“Sorry,” Devlin said, “not much of a reward, I guess . . . I need Kimmy to work this weekend.”

Josh showed real disappointment. “This weekend?”

“Tell her what it says . . .”

Josh said, “It’s an itinerary,” looking to her now.

She said, “An itinerary for what?”

“I don’t know . . . like a conference, or . . . There’re mealtimes, and you have to meet with Mr. Rathburn . . .”

Devlin said, “He’s a lawyer. And an advisor . . .”

She looked to Devlin, puzzled. “What for?”

“Sorry—it’s a real shame it’s going to take up most of the weekend since it’s really just a brief meeting. But that’s the way these things go . . .”

Josh was still reading, and he said now, “The Cayman Islands?”

Devlin smiled, looked her way. “Sorry, Kimmy, I need you to work this weekend. Hope that’s cool . . .”

“I don’t want to work this weekend,” she said.

He said, “It’s just a meeting . . .”

“Why? Cayman . . .?”

Devlin said, “You don’t want a bunch of bonuses, trust me. You lose it all in fucking taxes. I need you to take Friday off, head to Cayman, I want you to talk to my advisor. I want you to listen to what he says, tell me if you think he’s treating me fairly . . .”

“Is he Chinese?”

“Asian?—no. He’s black. I think he’s from Trinidad.”

“What do I have to talk to him for?”

“Kimmy—that’s the reward. We use a villa out there. Three days in Cayman, two seats on a private jet. Go out there Friday morning, do whatever, Saturday afternoon you meet with Rathburn. Come back Sunday . . .”

She grimaced, stomach twisting. “Like a vacation?”

“Totally a vacation. All expenses paid. Business expense. No taxes . . .”

“Oh,” she said, the shaking returning. How would she soothe this with Josh? How was she going to explain going away with Devlin for three days on a private jet to a Caribbean villa . . .?

Josh flipped over the paper, saw there was nothing on the other side, then shrugged. “So what’s this got to do with me?”

“It’s for spouses, too. I mean if Kimmy wants to take you . . .”

“Oh,” she said laughing, palming her forehead, relieved.

“What’s up with you two?” Devlin said, eyeing both of them. “I mean, I thought you guys were savvy. Do you not get what I’m saying?”

Josh said, “No, I mean yeah, I think I . . . do.”

“Jesus, you two . . . I just gave you a vacation. Three days, all expenses. Food, drink, spa . . . whatever else you want to do when you’re there, put it on the company card, Kimmy. Three days in the Caymans, most people would shit their pants, maybe even hug me a little. Not a penny out of your pocket, and no extra taxes . . .”

Josh slowly began to smile, and seeing that change in his expression brought her intense feelings of relaxation and happiness. Relief. Her knees sagged, and she felt a burden off her shoulders. Of course she’d be going with Josh . . . 

Devlin said, “Josh, if you don’t want to go, I’ll be glad to take her . . .”

Josh’s eyes snapped toward Devlin. There was a brief flash of anger, and she worried what would happen in the next second. But then the anger widened, was replaced by something that she thought might be fear. Poor Josh. Josh had always been put under by this man. And now he was doing it again. She said, “I’m taking Josh with me. Josh, right?—we’re going to go . . .”

“Of course,” he said, practically stammering.

Now she knew what he was thinking. He’d also been thinking she would be going with Devlin. She thought of what he’d said to her in bed last night. How he’d said Tell me you were thinking of his cock, and now how could she not think about that big cock. Josh had put it in her head. It was already there, but Josh would think he’d put it in her head. Josh was now regretting ever mentioning Devlin’s cock to her. It was all too late, anyway . . . 

She moved to Josh, slunk her arm around his middle and side-hugged him. Both of them faced Devlin who stood superior over them. She said, “Thank you, Devlin. Thank you—I get it now. It’s very kind . . .”

“Do you not like Cayman?”

“No,” she said, chuckling, resisting the urge to bat at Devlin in front of Josh. “We’ve never been. I want to go. We want to go. We definitely want to go,” she said, tugging on Josh’s waist and getting him to turn to her. His eyes slowly traveled to hers and she looked in his dumbfounded eyes. “Right? Three days in the Cayman Islands. Can you get Friday off?”

“Of course he can get Friday off,” Devlin said to Josh, “You’re at Swanson, right?” Josh said he was, and Devlin said, “Swanson’s great—I know a guy who used to work there.”

“Oh yeah—who?”

“He was a VP. Daniels . . .”

And then Josh said: “Is he a friend of your dad’s?”

There was a coldness in his voice. Completely incongruous with the moment. Josh was mad. Josh was lashing back. Bringing up Devlin’s dad. And Devlin sensed it too. Sensed it and didn’t like it. Some of the command he had of the situation faltered, a ripple in his force field. His confident expression faltered, the tug of his one-sided smile softening for a moment as his eyes pored over Josh, figuring what he would do next. The smile returned, he said, “No. Yeah, he was older. Daniels was a mentor back in biz school.”

“Yeah,” Josh said, “I remember Daniels. He wasn’t in Ajax, he was downtown.”

Devlin studied Josh still, looking bemused. “So can you get Friday off?”

Josh said, “I don’t need help to get Friday off.”

“I wasn’t saying that I’d help.”

She dug her fingertips into Josh’s hip. All the concern she’d had in the moment revolved around her transgression with Devlin. A very selfish and self-centered thought. Now she had to recover. If she was a woman who’d never slept with Devlin, then she would need her husband to smarten up right now. Digging her fingertips into Josh’s waist was the most silent way of hissing his name in his ear and saying Stop it.

Josh nodded, said, “I’ve never been to Cayman. I’ll get the time off . . .”

She squeezed his side. “We’ll go?”

Josh licked his lips, and his eyes showed concern. Concern maybe only she recognized. He was jealous and hurt and trying not to show it. What was he thinking about? Was he thinking about Devlin taking her instead if he couldn’t get Friday off? Worrying about that? Devlin would offer again if Josh couldn’t. Was he worrying about the dirty things he’d asked for last night and how now how he was confronted with it during the day? The man from his dirty thoughts with the incredibly big penis standing right in front of him and giving his wife a gift . . . 

Completely unexpected now: A distinct provocative arousal. She tightened her thighs, sucked in her stomach and held her breath, trying to keep awful thoughts at bay. “Okay,” she said, voice tight, “Josh, right?—we’re going to go to Cayman . . .”

Devlin steamrolled ahead: “You guys are going to have a good time. That’s a Michelin star on the itinerary there, and when you go to the spa, Josh, ask for Jenny . . .”

She shot Devlin a baleful look. Devlin showed his palms, laughing. “No, not like that. It’s not like that—I don’t mean, you know, a happy ending . . .”

Josh turned up his nose, not liking Devlin talking about sexual things in front of her.

“Anyway,” Devlin said, unharmed, “both of you pick Jenny and take turns. There’s a Jenny and a Jeremy, if you guys want to stay same-sex that’s on you, everybody’s got their own rules.” Devlin’s smug smiling face stayed on Josh, looking to weigh him down.

Devlin said no more, and though the moment wasn’t that long, it felt thin and tight and dreadful. Both Josh and Devlin willing to exist in a moment of tension looking at each other. She sought quickly to extinguish it, saying, “Okay, Josh, we’re going to Cayman this weekend.”

“We are,” Josh said.

Then to Devlin, she said, “Thank you, Devlin. That’s an amazing gift. We’ll both be very happy to go, and I’m sure we’ll have a great time.”

“It’d be hard not to have a good time,” he said. “Look, if you keep hitting home runs like that, and I have a feeling you will, Kimmy, I can’t just keep throwing down money at your feet. It won’t help you. The government’ll take it. There are other things, other benefits I offer . . .”

Her ribs tightened their grip around her heart, sensing a possible direction for Devlin’s train of thought. Not that he would blurt out something lewd, but that he would insinuate something and crafty and sensitive Josh would pick up on it. So she said to Josh, “Okay, Devlin has to go, Josh, can you give me a minute alone with him before he does?” And regretted it momentarily, seeing a look of hurt in her husband’s eyes. She added softly: “I’ll just be a minute . . .”

Josh found strength, said, “Yup, okay,” raising his chin, narrowing his eyes at her making her feel better. Then to Devlin, Josh said, “Devlin, good to see you,” gave a halfhearted wave at waist level before turning out of her hugging arm and heading down the alley.

Devlin stopped him. “Hey, Josh . . .”

And she wanted to interject again, prepared herself to sever any conversation Devlin might try to pursue.

Josh turned back, and Devlin said, “What’s your number?”

“My phone number?”

Devlin said, “Yeah. We should talk sometime.”

“We should?”

“For sure,” Devlin said earnestly. “Let me buy you lunch or something, go out for a coffee . . . We should probably talk, right?”

The color had drained from Josh’s cheeks. “About what?”

“Do you have a card on you?”

Josh shook his head no.

Devlin said, “We’re both grown up now. We should talk. Wipe the slate. You now . . .”

Josh said, “We should . . .”

Devlin had his phone out now, saying, “What’s your number?” Josh told him, Devlin entered it into his contacts, then from a jacket pocket offered a business card. Josh took it, read it, put it in his pants pocket.

Devlin offered his hand again, and Josh was timid but put his out as well. they shook again. Devlin said, “I’ll be in touch.”

Josh nodded, and she said, “I’ll just be a minute, okay, Josh?”

Josh was speechless and she tightened inside seeing him suffering this way—but at least he was dealing with it. He nodded a good-bye, heeled and looked both ways before crossing the sidewalk.

She watched him return down the alleyway headed to the Dragon’s patio, sunlight falling on his back until he was under the arch. Devlin watched with her, then when Josh was halfway to the patio, Devlin said, “I think that went pretty well.”

She said, “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He laughed, faced her, showed a little-boy-in-trouble face, saying, “What the hell did I do? I thought I was pretty good . . .”

“Why would you invite Josh over for that?”

“Because he’s going to go to Cayman with you . . . Oh shit, Kimmy, did I wreck it for you? If I didn’t call him over, were you going to go with me?”

“Not a chance,” she said.

“You sure? I mean, it is a business trip . . . And I love Cayman . . . And believe me, I know how to have fun when I’m there. You’d definitely have a way better time with me.”

“This is what I’m talking about . . .”

“What? Why’re you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you. You just stressed me out.”

He sucked his teeth and made a sound like she was overreacting. “If I slobbered all over Josh’s little knob in front of you, he’s going to think I’m up to something.”

“So you displayed your normal arrogant self.”

Devlin loved it, smiling. “That was for your benefit.”

She stared at his handsome face now aimed toward her, eyes lightly squinted against the brightness of the sun. He smiled, kept his confident gaze on hers.

“You have a point,” she said.

Devlin nodded. “Kimmy’s going to have it all. She must be excited. Good husband, decent guy who worships her, killer job, big pay, trips to Cayman, and other perks . . . oh, and absolute mattress-melting sex with her boss. Oh my God, think how good her life is.”

She shook her head at him, stifling a smile, unable to ignore the ghostly stretch his large size had left her with, like her opening was slowly microscopically stitching itself back together after the pounding that cock had given her. Smug and arrogant as he was, there was a charm there, a dominance and confidence.

“Josh is a good guy, Kimmy—I see why you married him. That guy is going to be faithful, devoted . . .”

“He is. Why do you want to meet with him?”

“It’s not good to meet with him?”

“Why did you take his phone number?”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Devlin said, leaning on his roadster again. “I was thinking about something . . .”

“About what?”

“What you said at the Clockwork yesterday. About me texting Josh or whatever. And how I said I didn’t do it . . . I don’t know if you believe me or not . . .”

“I don’t know who to believe.”

“Wow, that hurts. It occurred to me later—just this morning—I think I told Amy I put my card in your drawer . . .”