Lost for You (Lost #2)(20)
Author: B.J. Harvey

About half an hour later, I receive a call from Luis, our doorman, telling me that there is a delivery at the front desk for me. Wary from recent events, I need to make sure it’s not another unwanted gift.

“Do you know what it is, Luis?” I ask suspiciously.

“Yes, ma’am. Mr. James told me what it was when he dropped it off a few moments ago,” he replies straight away.

“Oh.” I’m definitely surprised at that. “Okay, Luis. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem, ma’am,” he adds before hanging up.

After all of the happenings in the past few months, we’d decided it was worthwhile to hire a doorman to watch the building during the day. At night, the doors are locked and require pin code entry. Thankfully, the tenants welcomed the added security.

Grabbing my keys, I lock my door behind me and make my way down the two flights of stairs to the front desk. As I reach the foyer, I see a single white Peruvian lily lying on the desk, wrapped in black paper with a small envelope stapled to the side.

I walk up and collect it from Luis, who has a huge grin on his face.

“This was from Brax?” I’m curious as to whether Brax delivered this himself.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies politely.

“Thanks, Luis,” I say, almost skipping back up the stairs.

Brax is thinking about me. My dramatic breakdown last night hasn’t scared him off completely. That must be a good sign, surely.

I open the card as soon as I get back in my apartment. The card has a purple butterfly on it. When I open it up, it reads, “To group projects with a beautiful woman”. There is a folded piece of paper included in the card. I unfold it and laugh when I see his receipt from our coffee meeting the first day of class when I first met Brax.

With a huge smile on my face, I put the card down on the counter. I place my beautiful white lily in a single stem vase and sigh at it, willing my head to hurry up and sort out the mess that is swirling inside.

Devon and I leave just before lunch on our cross country drive to Los Angeles. We’re aiming to make it in three or four days, taking turns to drive his truck, and staying overnight at whichever clean motels we can find. We both like country music, so thankfully there are no arguments over whose music we have to listen to. With a soundtrack of Blake Shelton, Toby Keith, Garth Brooks and Brad Paisley, we’re all set.

Although he’s been around for almost a month now, we haven’t really talked about what Devon’s life has been like for the past eight years. We used to hang around the same circles back in the day before I joined the army to straighten myself out. Unfortunately for Devon, he was in too deep with Evans by then, unable to see the wood for the trees.

“So, you totally on the up and up now?” I ask cautiously.

“Yep. Just have my good behavior bond for four more years, but other than that I’m straight as a ruler now,” he replies with a grin.

I grimace before asking my next question. “Talked to your good ol’ dad lately?”

He frowns, his jaw clenching tight, and his knuckles turning white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “I haven’t spoken a word to the guy since he stitched me up.”

“He just left you alone? He’s all about the family, bro. He even kidnapped me to try and get Brax and I to work for him. Sounds a bit suss.” He may be many things, but Michael Evans is not one to let sleeping dogs lie. Or, in this case, an incarcerated son who took the fall for him.

“Not really. He screwed me over, and he’s not dumb. He knows that I want nothing to do with him now. I’m just glad my mother didn’t live to see it.” He can’t hide the sorrow that laces his voice.

We need a change of subject because this conversation is getting way too serious. “I heard about that. She was a great woman. It’s just a shame she got stuck in your father’s life and couldn’t escape until it was too late.”

He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders, trying to brush it off even though I know it’s a sore point. “I’m at peace with it now. She took the only way out. He would’ve never let her go. She stood by him through all his crap, his affair with Brax’s mother, the scandals, and the investigations, but in the end she couldn’t get over what he did to me.”

“Still sucks,” I say, looking out the window as the world passes by.

“And how about you?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s not like your life was easy after-”

I see where he’s going now. “Gonna have to shut you down there, bro. I don’t talk about it.”

He sighs loudly. “If there is one thing I learned inside, Shay, it’s that you have to face the demons to find even the smallest amount of peace in your life.”

Who is this man, and what has it done with the ass**le that used to be Devon Michael Evans?

“Yeah. Well, don’t think I’ll ever find peace with that until I’m six feet under.”

“I had an awesome counselor inside. He helped me deal with my mom’s suicide, and with how my father betrayed both of us. The one thing he told me that has stuck with me is a quote from Buddha. ‘Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without’.”

“Motherfucker. Prison has turned Devon into a believer,” I spit out in shock. Who would have thought that he could go inside and come out three years later a changed man without a chip on his shoulder.

“Ha ha. Smart ass. You’re a funny f**k, you know that? No, I’m not a born again. I just realized that holding onto stuff from your past will tear you apart. It’s the reason I took my mother’s name instead of Evans when I got out.”

I nod in agreement. “I noticed that.”

“It’s not a bad thing to put some distance from that man after what he did,” he murmurs before leaning over and turning the radio up. “Love this song.”

Subject obviously closed.

I can’t bring myself to text Elle again, even though I want to. I know that before I can give her any answers, I need more answers myself.

After Shay and Devon left for LA, I stopped by Elle’s building and dropped off a single white lily with our new doorman. I wish I had the courage to go upstairs and talk to her but right now, but I don’t and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I saw what the truth did to her last night and it crushed me. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest, trampled on, and then thrown against a brick wall. I did that to her. If I’d just trusted my gut feeling from the beginning and told her what was going on, we could’ve avoided this. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?