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

before Devlin could. “I don’t need or want to know what Devlin is talking about. You’re one of the good ones, Garrick. That’s all I need to know.”

Garrick shifted on the couch and fully faced Grace. “What do you think? Do you want Devlin to call his friend? Yesterday you said you don’t much feel like moving anymore. You said you were tired and ready to stay in one place for a while.”

Grace hugged herself, and her gaze strayed to the now closed front door. “But Randy...”

“That’s your ex-husband?” Garrick asked.

“Yes.”

A sigh escaped Garrick. He tunneled his hands through his dark hair and shoved it off his face. “Maybe Devlin is right, Grace. Maybe it’s time to stop running. Maybe it’s okay to ask for help against your ex. You don’t have to fight Randy on your own.”

Grace turned a pointed stare back on Garrick. “Are you going to stay?”

A long pause filled every corner of the room with heavy silence. Garrick stared over Grace’s shoulder in the direction of the hallway, came back and held on Grace for a handful of heartbeats, and then settled on Devlin for what felt like eons. He finally nodded sharply and said in a rough voice, “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Devlin doubled over, his forehead falling to rest on Garrick’s knee, as relief flooded his system. He’s staying. Devlin covered his mouth, stifling a sob that wanted to break free.

Garrick ran a hand through Devlin’s hair, offering the sweetest simple contact, and Devlin nearly wept all over his lover’s leg.

Grace cleared her throat. “Then call your friend, Devlin. I want Randy captured as soon as possible.”

Devlin jolted right back up straight. Shit. “Right.” This wasn’t over. Convincing them was only half the battle. Devlin scrubbed his face, and his gaze lit on Garrick’s as he pulled his act together. Damn it. “Garrick, you go take care of,” Devlin pointed at Garrick’s eyes, “while I make this call.”

“Oh.” Garrick shot to his feet. “Right.” He glanced down at himself as he walked backward to the door. He then moved his focus up Devlin’s bare stomach to his chest and finally back up to his eyes. “I’ll get us some shirts while I’m at it.”

“Good idea.”

As Devlin watched Garrick open the front door and disappear through it, he couldn’t help his heart lurching and his throat seizing as the man slipped out of grabbing distance.

Trust him. It goes both ways. He will come back.

Grace put the phone in Devlin’s hands, jerking his attention back to her.

“I’m going to talk to my kids,” she shared. “Let them know we’re not going anywhere. At least not tonight.”

The woman’s skin was still pale as a ghost against the navy blue color of her T-shirt and pajama shorts. Her obvious fear and exhaustion tugged at Devlin’s heart. He could understand why Garrick had taken to her so quickly.

“This is a nice place to raise kids,” Devlin said. He squeezed her arm, pleased when she attempted a smile in return. “It’s going to work out. I have a good feeling, and I’ve recently learned I can trust my gut, after all.”

“Thank you again.” She dipped her head, and moved down the hallway, out of sight.

Devlin picked up the phone. Not even a siren in the distance--definitely a fire truck this time--pulled his attention away from dialing Wyn Ashworth’s number.

* * * *

Devlin met Wyn Ashworth at the door. The guy had on sneakers, wrinkled jeans, and a Bruins T-shirt that had a tear in the shoulder. It didn’t look like he’d taken the time to run a comb through his short, dark hair, and Devlin thought he saw little crusts from sleep in the corners of the man’s eyes.

His friend’s intimidating frame dwarfed the doorway. “I got here as fast as I could.” Wyn withdrew a small spiral pad from his back pocket. “Where is Ms. Fine?”

Devlin put a hand on Wyn’s stomach and eased him back over the threshold. “Can I have just a few words with you first?” He closed the door behind him. “In private?”

Wyn crossed his thick arms over his wide chest. “Make it fast. I want to get this asshole’s information into the system as fast as possible.”

“Believe me, I do too.” Devlin took in the solid stance of his friend and looked him in the eyes. “Here’s the deal. I was with Garrick when Grace’s ex-husband broke into her home. Garrick saw the guy run around the side of the house and immediately bolted out of his apartment above the garage to help.” He swallowed past his own discomfort, and matched Wyn’s stalwart chin with one of his own. “What I need you to do is keep that part of it out of your report. I need you to keep Garrick out of the report.”

Wyn’s entire face went stony. Then his mouth twisted as if Devlin had forced shit down his throat. “I’m sorry. You fucking want me to falsify a report for your boyfriend? Why the hell would I do that?” He narrowed his gaze to black slits. “Why the fuck would I need to, Devlin?”

“Not falsify.” Devlin jumped to correct Wyn. “Just don’t poke holes in the statement Grace gives you.”

Wyn ran his hands through his hair and tufted it up in even thicker clumps. “What the hell, Dev?” He clasped his hands behind his neck and tipped his head back. “You have to give me something more to go on here. I don’t understand what kind of shit you’re asking me to do for you.”

“Look at me.” Devlin grabbed Wyn’s arms and shook him, forcing the man’s gaze back down to his. “I am your friend. You know I would not steer you toward covering up someone with a record or anything bad or wrong. But I need you to hear me.” His throat tightened and his mouth went dry as the need for speed and success grew within him. “Garrick Langley is a good man. He is on the right side