Live For Me (Page 53)

Live For Me (Blurred Lines #2)(53)
Author: Erin McCarthy

She rattled off the address. “Please stay out of the area so emergency vehicles can have access.”

I murmured “thanks,” then hung up. It was Richfield. On fire in a big, big way. I dropped the box I was holding on the ground and turned to Randy. “That’s my old job, where I was housesitting. It’s on fire.”

I had told my father most of what had happened with Devin, other than that I had sex with him. I had been so upset and raw I hadn’t been able to prevent myself from blurting it all out. Besides, Randy had wanted some kind of explanation for why I had fainted at his feet, nearly frozen solid.

“Seriously?” Randy popped the trunk of his car and put the boxes in. “But Devin’s not there, right? He’s in the city most of the time.”

“Yes. I mean, he wouldn’t be there now. That’s probably how the fire got so out of control. No one there to monitor it.” But nonetheless I was still worried.

And the idea of the house I had fallen in love with being destroyed brought tears to my eyes. It was like none of it had ever happened then. Like I had never lived there. Like Devin and I hadn’t had coffee and doughnuts in the kitchen. Like he hadn’t taught me to drive there, like we hadn’t cuddled on the couch with Amelia, or spent that one night together in my room off the kitchen.

I did what I hadn’t done in six months. I texted Devin.

Where are you?

He didn’t answer, even though I could see immediately he had read it. I realized it was coming out of nowhere so I typed a second text.

Richfield seems to be on fire. Are you safe?

Yes.

That was it. Just a yes.

Where are you?

Outside Richfield.

I had to go. There was no other option. “I have to go over there and make sure everything is okay. Devin says he’s at the house.” I felt sick to my stomach. If something had happened to him…

“Sure, okay. Let’s catch the ferry. We can drop this stuff off at Caitlyn and Heath’s first.”

I glanced at the time. “Okay, great. Thank you.”

“If he answered you, then clearly he’s fine,” Randy said, clearly wanting to reassure me.

“Yeah.” I texted Devin again.

Please let me know what happens.

Sure.

That was it. Just a casual, cold response. Not that I could blame him. He hadn’t heard from me at all.

As we waited for the ferry, took it across the water with a group of summer vacationers, and drove towards Devin’s house, anxiety had my knee bouncing up and down. My palms were damp and I was biting my bottom lip. The smoke had decreased substantially which was either a good thing or a bad.

There were firetrucks everywhere. I expected someone to wave us away, but everyone was too busy. The fire was mostly out.

But the house was mostly gone. “Oh, my God,” I breathed, tears in my eyes.

All that was still standing was the garage and half of the family room. The rest was nothing but a charred, smoldering heap. The garage door was open and sitting inside it was my jeep. The jeep I’d never driven. The blue paint was still visible below a layer of ash. He hadn’t sold it back to the dealer or online. Scanning the yard, I looked for Devin.

He was sitting on a stretcher, waving off a paramedic and looking… defeated. It was an expression I’d only seen him wear once. On the other side of a closing elevator door. I ran. I just dropped my arms and ran. His hair was longer, but he looked gorgeous. My heart ached as I got closer and I slowed down, wanting to throw myself into his arms.

When he looked over and saw me, he froze. “What are you doing here?” he asked tightly.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” I came to a stop in front of him. I was wearing flip flops that slid on the grass. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.” He gave a shrug. “But I’ll live.” When he lifted his hand off his stomach, I saw his shirt was open and he was bandaged. “I’m not sure why you care.”

He sounded petulant and I couldn’t blame him, but that wasn’t my concern at the moment. I wanted to know how badly he was injured. “What happened? Did you get burned? How did the fire start?”

The paramedic was hovering and Devin turned to him. “Hey, can you give us a minute?”

“Sure. Don’t go anywhere,” he told Devin, clapping him on the leg.

“I promise not to run a marathon.” When the man moved across the grass, Devin studied me. “You look beautiful, Tiffany.” But then he shook his head, sighing in exasperation. “So is that what it takes to hear from you, my house burning to the ground?”

My bottom lip was trembling. “Why are you bandaged?”

“I may have gotten shot by Kadence.”

“Oh, my God! What?” I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out and pushed his hair back off his forehead. It was longer than it had been at Christmas. “She shot you? Why?”

He gave a shrug, moving his head away from my touch. “She was threatening to kill herself. I tried to stop her, she shot me. But it just grazed me. It hurts like a motherfucker but I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know what to say.” But I did start crying. “If anything had happened to you…”

“You would be free to live your life without me,” he said, gruffly. “Just like you have been.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t want to be free of you. And if you suffer, I suffer.”

“That’s ironic, because I only suffer when you’re not with me.”

I touched him again, more confident now, both that he wasn’t severely injured, and that while I was right to leave him the first time, it would be wrong to leave him again. “So let’s not suffer anymore.”

He didn’t answer me though, just brooded. Happy to see him, happy to know that he had missed me, I kept talking. “So Kadence snowed me, didn’t she?” The pictures, the doll, the pregnancy test, had all been a manipulation. I shivered when I thought about being alone with her. What she could have done to me. I wondered if she had been in Richfield without my knowing it. If she had watched me. It was disturbing and I felt like an idiot. It had taken her all of an hour to convince me she was sane, when she was clearly anything but.

“She’s a sociopath, Tiff. She’s good at lying. Pathologically good at it.” He took my hand off his shoulder and kissed it, staring at me carefully. “We’re officially divorced. Went to court yesterday and everything is filed.”