Devlin and Garrick by Cameron Dane (short story to read txt) 📕

burning my palm,” he curled his hand into a fist, “like a fucking brand, so I went into the first bathroom I found, determined to wash it off. Instead, I stood in front of that sink, staring at my hand, and I memorized the information rather than wiping it away. Right then and there,” he shook his head as he tipped his head back and turned his gaze up to the ceiling, “I understood I wouldn’t forget you. I ran out and back to you, but by then you were already gone.” He rolled his head and found Devlin in the shadows again. “I thought that might be fate--a sign that I wasn’t supposed to see you again after all--so I went back to the motel, got my stuff and my bike, and I drove back to CBI headquarters. Through the entire ride, I tried to memorize numbers on signs, and did my best to dislodge your contact info from my head.” He shook his head and laughed. “But what did I do the second I walk inside that federal building?”

Devlin found himself perched at the end of the bed, as if he didn’t already know the answer. “You sent me an e-mail,” he said, his voice soft.

“Yep.” Garrick had a look on his face that seemed to mingle humor and annoyance. “I knew it wasn’t smart to instigate contact with you. At that time, I thought for sure I would have to go back into the biker club. At best we’d only have time to trade a couple e-mails and phone calls before I had to disappear again, but the thought of never hearing your voice again...” Garrick pursed his lips, his eyes unnaturally bright. “I couldn’t live with you believing that you were just a fuck for me. I think I knew from the beginning you would be much more than that.” He turned his head toward the window again, and his voice dropped to a hush. “Then I had to go break your heart anyway. Maybe it would have been better to let you believe what we did together was just about relieving a physical need.”

“Don’t say that.” Devlin’s chest squeezed and his throat hurt. He went to the sink, taking a moment to fill and drink a glass of water. “If we hadn’t shared those six months,” he leaned against the counter and stared at Garrick’s stark profile, “would you have come to Redemption when your life fell apart?”

Garrick finally pulled his attention off the wedge of uncovered window and put it on Devlin. “That six months took us from lovers to partners, I think. Ass backward, but no less powerful, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” The small room, along with the wee hours of the night, cloaked each word they spoke in an additional layer of intimacy. “That makes the pain worth it for me. The time we spent getting to know one another is ultimately what brought you back to me.” He looked right into the man’s eyes and did not let his voice waver even a hair. “I forgive you. I think maybe you need to hear that.”

“I do.” Garrick nodded and he clearly worked hard to blink some of the sheen from his eyes. He averted his head, and his voice dropped, but Devlin still heard him say, “Thank you.”

Devlin got up to go to Garrick, when suddenly Garrick narrowed his stare through the crack in the curtains. “Oh, sweet merciful God.” The man shot up off his stool, ripped open the door, and then tore out of the apartment at a breakneck speed.

“What the fuck?” Devlin picked up his sweats, shoved himself into them, and snatched Garrick’s shorts up off the floor. He flew out of the room and took the steps two at a time after Garrick, but Garrick was already halfway across the lawn, heading for the Fine’s backyard.

*

Someone is breaking into the house.

Garrick’s first thought: assassin.

He ate up the grass under his feet and sped around the house to the Fine’s kitchen door, knowing he could kick that lock in a shitload easier than the front door.

Thank God Devlin had almost fucking brought him to tears, forcing Garrick to avert his head so the man wouldn’t see them. If Garrick hadn’t sought the safety of his nightly ritual of peeking out the window when he couldn’t sleep, he would have missed the dark shadow jumping over the side of the Fine’s front porch and disappearing around the far side of the house.

If someone hurts Grace and the kids in order to get to me... “Shit.” Garrick couldn’t even contemplate that. He might not be able to recover.

A scream shrieked through the house just as Garrick leaped up the steps to the kitchen door. The sound pierced Garrick’s skin and sank into his bones, horrifying him to his core. Pure adrenaline flooded his system, charging him with superhuman strength. He put every ounce of his weight behind his shoulder and slammed into the door, cracking the wood right off the frame and sending the door flying open.

Garrick ran through the darkened kitchen and dining room, through the living room, and found the kids screaming “Mommy, Mommy!” in the hallway outside their mother’s open bedroom door.

Shit.

“In your room; get in a room!” Garrick came up on them and shoved both kids none-too-gently away from their mother’s door. “Right now!” His voice went hoarse as he saw Grace and a man dressed in camouflage doing battle out of the corner of his eye. A knife and a gun were on the floor. He yelled back at Chloe and Shawn, “Lock the door and don’t come out!”

Devlin appeared at the end of the hall. “I got ’em!” he shouted, grabbing each kid by their arms and dragging their little kicking bodies to safety. “Go!”

Garrick dove into the fray just as Grace rammed the heel of her foot back into her assailant’s knee. The man roared a foul word and let go of