When I arrive at Mom’s hospital room with an armful of books, she’s alone. Mom is propped up in bed, looking better than I’ve seen her in years. There’s healthy color in her cheeks and her eyes are bright.
Nothing was more terrifying than running into our trailer to find her passed out on the floor.
“Hey,” I greet brightly as I enter.
“Hi, baby girl.” Mom’s smile is full of radiance. She pats the bed. “Come sit.”
“I brought you some entertainment.” I perch on the side of her bed, setting the books from my collection on the tray table. “I figured you might be getting bored and need something to occupy the time. Will the doctor discharge you yet?”
“Not yet. We’re waiting on the latest results from the blood test.”
I hold back a sigh. Things at Devlin’s house have been better than I expected, but I miss Mom. I pick up the brush from the side table and get to work with our routine. I visit, brush her hair, and do my homework as we talk.
When she holds her arms open, I lean in for a hug. She pets my hair and for a minute everything is okay in the world.
After we part, Mom checks out the books. “Some of these are new additions to your library.”
“Yeah, I picked up some new ones.” I was able to buy a whole box the library was planning to get rid of. I point out the one she has in her hand. “Look, same author as Stardust.”
“Ah, one of your favorites.” Mom laughs. “You used to beg me to read it again every time we finished it.”
I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hug her. “You did the voices better than me. I loved it.”
A wistful look lingers in her eyes, crinkling the lines around them as I finish brushing her hair and pull over the armchair.
“What is it? Are you tired?”
Mom waves a hand. “No, no. I’m just glad you were happy. That’s what’s important.”
My heart clenches. “Of course I was.” I take her hand, stroking her knuckles. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.”
A wrinkle appears on her forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Being in here for so long, I’ve just been thinking a lot.”
“Mom,” I breathe, squeezing her hand.
“I’m sorry for your father, you shouldn’t have had to worry—”
“Mom, no. It wasn’t your fault.” My strong expression nearly crumbles. I want to take away all of her pain and swallow it. The burden can try to burn me from the inside out, I’ll survive it. “Everything will be okay now.”
She dashes away a tear before it falls. “Why don’t you tell me about how school is? The doctor mentioned your friend told him about a college fair coming up.”
“Right.”
Devlin left college brochures on the island in the kitchen. Gemma sent me the link for Oak Ridge College, too. But I can’t go to art school to study art history. I should go for something practical. Nursing, maybe. I haven’t decided yet. I’m more worried about picking schools that have scholarships and grants I can apply for.
Neither of them have to worry about their futures. Gemma had her heart set on one goal and Devlin can select any school he wants.
“I know we haven’t talked about it much, but whatever you choose, we’ll make it work. I want you to follow your dreams, Blair.”
I look up from picking at my nails. “I haven’t decided on a major.”
Mom leans back against her pillows, smiling. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
The nurse bustles in a few minutes later, checking on Mom and dropping off her dinner. We split the jello and laugh at TikTok animal videos I pull up on the hospital’s WiFi.
One video features a boy that looks like Devlin. Just like that, I can’t get last night out of my head. It keeps popping up. Concentrating in English earlier was hell.
“What put that look on your face?” Mom gives a teasing gasp. “Are you blushing?”
“I—no.”
I cover my flaming cheeks. Oh god, I am blushing. I can’t help it, not when my mind shoots to the faint red mark I found on my neck this morning. I tied a bandana around it to hide it. My cheeks heat more, replaying the feeling of Devlin’s mouth on my skin, leaving his mark.
A vibration in my pocket provides a perfectly timed distraction. Hopefully Gemma has a good Instagram story to share of a dog to get Devlin out of my head.
Except…the text is from Devlin.
The cycle starts all over.
I roll my lips between my teeth as I shift in my seat.
Devil: Will you be home soon? Want to go for a night run? [moon emoji] It’s supposed to be a clear night. I want to take you to the lookout point where there’s a good view of the sky.
After the lake party, I dropped the D-bag part off of his contact name, but left the Devil. He’s still my dark devil, though now he makes my body tingle with something other than loathing and resentment.
Does a joint run at night count as a date when we’re living in the same house?
With my heartbeat skittering all over the place, I type out a quick reply.
Blair: Visiting my mom, but be back soon. You owe me a race, so I’m in. Loser makes dinner?
Devil: You drive a hard bargain, little thief. That’s called a rigged bet.
Blair: [GIF of a cute young girl shrugging unapologetically]
Devil: Deal. See you at home. [smirking devil emoji]
“Wow, you’ve turned red.” Mom laughs, delighted. “Is it a boy?”
“Uh, yes. But it’s, um.” I don’t know what to say. Devlin isn’t my boyfriend. The butterflies that come to life in my chest as I read his text again can fuck off. “A friend from school.”
It’s the best I’ve got to explain the complicated thing Devlin and I have. Enemies to frenemies? I don’t know what’s going on.
Nothing seems to have anything to do with revenge between us anymore.
“It’s nice to see you happy with a crush,” Mom says.
Crush.
Oh god.
My lips part. Is that what it is? The feeling that makes it hard to breathe around Devlin?
It’s not just that he’s hot or that his kisses reach in and batter my heart.
I think I actually like Devlin.
Mom cracks up at whatever expression my face is locked in.
Twenty-Nine
Devlin
When I’m around Blair, something brings me to life. Makes me feel in ways I’ve kept numb. I thought it was the thrill of the game, of controlling her. But I think it’s more than that, it’s just her.
She’s in my head, my dreams, my fucking veins. And she won’t get out.
Every breath I take is tinged with the hint of vanilla.
This might have started as a way to torment her for revenge, but she’s dug her way so deep into me, I don’t want it to end. I want her stubborn spirit and her moans. The desire to break her from pleasure, then put her back together to do it all over again has surpassed the savage part of me hellbent on destroying her.