The Lost Days (Prairie Town Book 3) (41 page)

This is ridiculous!

He hated that he couldn’t remember the past.  Had his father always been like this?  Beating him when they had a disagreement?  Had he feared him as a grown man, too?

“I’m mighty disappointed in you for not getting that money, Devin.  We needed that score more than you understand, Son.  But I’m willing to let it slide,” Mr. Rose said, circling around the couch, stalking him like prey. 

Wait, what?

“I was trying to get money for you?” He asked, stopping on the opposite side of the couch to stare at him in disbelief.  “You’re the reason I kidnapped Laney McIntosh?”

“Stop playing dumb with me!” His father bellowed, smacking the leather against the arm of the couch.  “I’m tired of this act, Devin.  We all are.”

“It’s not an act!” He shouted, eyes moving to the belt again.  “I don’t give a damn what you think, and I don’t care what plans you had for that money.  I’m glad you didn’t get it, you psychotic dick.”

His father’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of his head as he stared at him, red faced and on the brink of a stroke.  “What the hell did you call me?”

“I didn’t stutter.”  Anger raged through his veins and he knew there was no turning back now.  Memories or no memories, he was pissed.  He would no longer be the boy afraid of his father – he would be the man brave enough to stand up for his mother.  “You’re a psychotic dick, and I will not let you hurt my mother anymore.  You may have my brothers broken into submission, but I will not be frightened back into your sick agenda, Father.  This ends now.”

Mr. Rose took a moment to let the words sink in, the vein in his forehead bulging.  The anger in his eyes seemed to sizzle out as he tossed the belt to the floor, and then he peered towards the window.

The tornado was getting closer.  The pictures fell off the walls and the floor shook; it was only the beginning.  It was impossible to see outside as rain pelted against the window, sounding more like gravel being flung against the glass rather than water.

“Devin?” His mother called from down the hallway.  “Devin, get in here, baby.  Please.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he made sure he stayed between him and the entrance to the hall.  There was no way in hell he was getting past him.

“In a minute, Mama,” he called back to her.  “I’m coming.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be now, is it?” Mr. Rose asked hoarsely, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. 

He nodded.  “That’s how it’s going to be.”

“You think you’re man enough to take her away?”  He snorted and rolled his eyes.  “Boy, you’ve said some dumb things in your time, but this is just pathetic.  You can’t even take care of yourself.”

“I’m not worried about me; I’m worried about her.”

“You should be worried about you.” His father’s eyes darkened as he took a step back.  “You should be really worried, you ungrateful little shit.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting if he were honest about it, but he really didn’t think his father would be crazy enough to lunge at him like a wild animal.  Releasing a sound that didn’t seem human, Mr. Rose grabbed his belt from the floor and swung it in his direction, feet not even touching the couch cushions as he launched his attack.

He didn’t even have time to move.  The cold leather connected with the side of his face and the pain, that agonizing pain, seared through his cheek, radiating throughout his entire head.  Falling backwards, he hit the floor and the air was knocked from his lungs.

This was it.  He was defeated.  Again.

“You think you can take my wife from me?” His father asked, outraged.  The belt slapped against his chin and he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut as red-hot pain exploded everywhere.  “You think you are man enough to stand up to me?”

God, please no.  I’m supposed to be protecting her from this monster.  I can’t even protect myself.

The belt lashed down against his chest, his stomach, and then his arm before Mr. Rose dropped it.  He resorted to grabbing either side of his face and slammed it against the floor. 

Over and over again.

The world became hazy then.  The sound of busting glass and his mother’s screams were the only thing he could hear as his skull made contact with the hard floor.

“Get off of him!” His mother shrieked.  “Get off my son, you bastard!  You’re going to kill him!

“Get off me, you stupid bitch!” Mr. Rose’s voice boomed in his head.  “He’s better off dead, the miserable little bastard.  I didn’t want him in the first place.”

Struggling to remain conscious, Devin forced his eyes open, dark liquid blurring his vision.

It was blood.

It was his blood.

Oh, God.  I’m going to die.

“I’m going to kill you, Andrew!” His mother screamed.  “You will not hurt him ever again!”

Blinding flashes of light greeted him when he closed his eyes.  The pain began to fade and he felt nothing but warmth as fuzzy images slowly came into focus.

“Don’t hurt my baby.  Please don’t hurt my baby!”

“Get off me, woman.  He has to learn a lesson.  Kissin’ other little boys ain’t gonna fly in this house.  Come here, Devin.”

Shaking like a leaf, he peered up at the mountain of a man towering over him.  Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he whimpered, terrified of what was about to happen.

“Please don’t whip me, Daddy.  I’m so sorry.  I won’t never do it again.”

“Ain’t no son of mine going to grow up to be a goddamn faggot.  I said get your ass over here!”

“You better go, Dev-o,” a gentle voice whispered into his ear.  “Go before it gets worse.  I’m sorry I got ya in trouble.”

It was gone within seconds, the terrible memory of the day his father had caught him kissing another boy.  But it was a memory nonetheless.

“Devin, stop it!” Laney stood in the corner of a room—he didn’t recognize the room—and buried her face into her hands.  “Stop yelling, please.  I can’t do this anymore.”

Laney?  Why was Laney in that memory?

No...it was a different memory.  From when?

“I’m breaking up with you, Devin.  I can’t be with someone like you, not after what you did to Johnny.  I was stupid for ever thinking you could change.”

But he had changed, hadn’t he?  Why was she so angry with him?  Why was she crying?

The scene changed again.  He was small once more, on the playground at school.

“Get him, Devin! Beat the snot out of him!” Someone cheered.  “Get that little faggot.”

His fists were flying, hitting someone mercilessly.  Blood leaked from the nose of his victim, and then their eyes met.

Where did he know those eyes from?

“Kick his ass, Devin!  Johnny deserves it.”

Johnny?

Everything shifted again, a blur of colors greeting him as he passed through memory after memory, various conversations going too fast to understand and heartbreaking events he didn’t care to see in the first place. 

He saw all of it.

He remembered all of it.

“You are a terrible, horrible person, Devin Rose!”
A voice cried.
  “I hope you rot in hell!”

“I hate you, Devin.  You’re a monster!”
Another voice said.

“Hey, douchenozzle.  I’ve been waiting for you.”
  He knew that voice, but it was filled with so much hate – hate he deserved.

He wanted to shut if off.  He wanted the pain to go away.  It felt like a dam had busted open and every vile, cruel thing he’d ever done was suddenly being shoved back into his brain.

It hurt.  It all hurt so terribly bad.

Why couldn’t it just end?

But then the voices died down and the images disappeared, leaving only two faces in his mind.

It was Kelly and Nick, smiling at him.  The tenderness in their gazes made him want to hang on.

It made him want to fight to live.

“Stop talking about yourself as if you’re some unforgivable monster, Devin.  You
are
a good person, okay?”

Kelly was reaching out to him, offering her hand.  She saw past the bad.  She saw the real him.  She wanted to save him...

“The past is the past, baby.  Let it stay there.”

Nick’s sparkling eyes were there again, and God, they looked so familiar.  He recognized those eyes from days gone by.

Yes...he
did
know those eyes.

The first memory returned, and he was small again.  And frightened.

A much younger Nick was by his side, holding his hand tightly.

“It will be okay, Dev-o,”
he whispered, smiling reassuringly.
“Everything will be okay.”

The friend he’d been trying to remember was not Johnny – it was Genie.  Nicholas Eugene Laveau.

Genie.  He was my Genie, my best friend.

“Don’t give up on me,”
young Nick said. 
“Don’t you give up on me, Devin.  Fight.”

Those were the last words he heard before falling into a world of darkness.

He only felt peace.

K
elly

Silence fell upon the tiny town she’d always known and loved—more often than not—and as she emerged from the house with Nick, Mrs. Harrington, and her children, she was overwhelmed with emotion by the sight the devastation awaiting them.

Lawn decorations, a window screen, a basketball, and part of her roof were scattered across the lawn.  The skies were still gray, but they weren’t nearly as frightening as they had been only a few moments ago.

Six minutes.  It was such a small amount of time for things to change so drastically.

It was hard to fathom that a tornado had just wreaked havoc on their street.  Everything was so quiet, so still.  As neighbors emerged from their homes, donning expressions the same as hers, she clung tightly to her children and thanked God for keeping them safe.

I hope Devin is safe, too.

Justin whistled softly and tightened his fingers around her hand, and she mustered up the courage to survey the damage.  

“My god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a mess,” Mrs. Harrington stated sadly.  “Look at my poor house.”

Gazing down the street, she caught sight of the quaint little house with red shutters, and frowned.  Mrs. Harrington’s home was going to need
a lot
of work.

She imagined there were others that looked just the same all across town, or maybe even worse.

“I’ll take care of that, Mrs. H.  Don’t you worry,” Nick said, resting a hand against the old woman’s shoulder.  “We’ll get it all sorted out.”

“What about our house?” Justin asked, turning around to peer up at it.  “Whoa! The roof’s gone!”

She winced and slowly turned to stare at her home, the place that held so many memories, good and bad.  That stupid roof had always been a problem – one she’d now have to save up the money to deal with again.

“Oh, drat!” Mrs. Harrington huffed in frustration, causing all of them to stare at her.  “And those nice people just fixed that for you a few years ago.  I suppose I’ll have to call them again.”

“Santa had those nice people fix our roof,” Justin commented casually, shrugging one shoulder.  “I mean, I know he isn’t real now, but back then the lady who said she was his wife, said he had sent them to fix it.  Do you remember that, Mama?”

“Yes, I remember it.” Her eyes flitted to Nick briefly, but he didn’t seem to be as curious about it as she anticipated.

Good.  It’s probably for the better. 

She already had enough to deal with, tornado damage and such, without adding to the stress of admitting how bad things had gotten for them at one time.  What if he saw her as a bad mother because of it?

“I remember, too.” Mrs. Harrington gave a small chuckle and then met her gaze, winking.  “Santa really wanted to help you that year, and he’ll help you again.”

You sneaky old woman.

She’d been trying to figure out who had enlisted the help of Giftapalooza since the night Lydia and her friends showed up, bringing gifts galore for her children and so much more. 

They gave her hope.

And now she knew the truth, and it helped lift her spirits in spite of what they’d just been through.

She mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to her and looked to Nick again, who was busy with his phone.

“Are you calling Devin?” She asked, her heart skipping a beat.

“Yeah, or at least I’m going to try to,” he replied, worry evident on his handsome face.  Lifting the phone to his ear, he shook his head and sighed.  “The lines are probably down everywhere.  I doubt anyone will be able to make a call anytime soon.”

“Damn it,” she whispered, closing her eyes.  Worry plagued her mind as she thought of Devin.  He had been so brave, going out in the middle of the storm like that.  No matter his past crimes, or even how she felt about him – the guy was doing right by his mother.

“It’s okay, babe.  We’ll get to him,” Nick reassured her, reaching out to rub her arm comfortingly.  “We can take my truck and—”

“Where’s your truck, Nick?” Justin asked, running to the sidewalk.  “I don’t see your truck.”

“No...” Nick shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed heavily.  “I don’t see it either.”

Staring down one end of the street and then the other, Kelly blinked in disbelief.  “You don’t think...”

“Oh, I do,” he replied with a nod.  “It could be anywhere right now.  The wind accompanying that thing must have been hellacious.  It’s no telling where it took my truck.”

“Oh, Nick.  I’m so sorry.” She grabbed his hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing his knuckles.  “That sucks.”

“Nah, I’m not worried.” He smiled at her and then lowered his eyes to Jamie.  “It can be replaced; she can’t.”  Then he gazed at Justin, who was busy playing with the basketball that definitely belonged to one of the neighbor’s.  “He can’t.”

“Oh, Nick...”

“I don’t care about the truck, Kelly.  Why are you crying?” He furrowed his brows and slid a thumb beneath her eye.  “Hey now, none of that.  What’s wrong?”

“I just...sometimes the things you say,” she admitted, blushing.  “They seem to come at exactly the right moment.”

“Oh.” A grin slowly spread across his lips and he pulled her into a hug, smooching the top of Jamie’s head in the process.  “What can I say? I’ve got a knack for it, I guess.”