The Devil Series Books 1-4 (Devil #1-4), page 37
The breeze picks up and I pull my baseball cap lower. “Basically.” I blow out a tired breath. “I’ll apologize to him.”
He runs his hands over his head as if he’s frustrated. I’m momentarily distracted by the pulse of his tricep. “Don’t. He can be jealous of your career and your fame all he wants, but he doesn’t get to speak to you like that. He doesn’t get to belittle you. Ever.”
I laugh. “He’s not jealous. He just has no respect for my career, and I can’t even fault him for it when I don’t respect it either.”
“He wants what you have,” Josh says. His head turns toward me. “I can’t imagine why, because until you dyed your hair and got a little privacy, your life looked miserable, and I imagine it will go back to being miserable. But it’s definitely what he wants. And you take way too much shit from people.”
I frown. Josh would never say that if he spent a moment with me around my family. “I don’t really see myself as taking shit from anyone.”
“You take it from him,” he says. “At that party last summer, a friend of my dad’s asked for an autograph and Six said something shitty about it, something totally demeaning, and you just laughed.”
Look at her rack, is what he said. If you want to know what it takes to be famous in this country, I offer you exhibit A and exhibit B. And yes, I laughed. He was joking, mostly, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. I’m not about to delude myself into thinking I got where I am based on talent alone.
“He was just drunk. He makes stupid, tactless jokes when he’s drunk. The nice thing about your brother is that he doesn’t give a shit about my money, or my fame, so when he’s nice…I get to know he means it. And I’d like to point out that you’re the one who convinced me to stay on this trip yesterday.”
He blows out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. And I shouldn’t have. You deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on, Drew. Someone you can lean on. Who cares more about your happiness than his own.”
I swallow. I’m not sure what he’s describing exists, and it hardly matters, because I don’t want it anyway. Life is easier when you don’t entirely depend on another person for anything, when you hold a little back.
“I’m not looking for that,” I tell him. “It’s like driving. Some people want to take the long, meandering journey with no guarantees, hoping they end up in a good place. And some of us just take the express bus: it won’t get you anywhere special, but at least you know what you’re in for.”
He looks like he wants to argue, and I’m relieved when he doesn’t.
Because he’s the one person alive who could convince me to take a risk, and I can’t stand to let myself love yet another thing I’ll eventually lose.
When I get back to the room, Six is awake and wary. He looks at me like I’m a feral animal skulking near his chickens.
“Hey,” I say quietly, dropping my beach bag on the desk.
“Hey,” he replies. He crosses to the minibar and I’m sorely tempted to ask if he really needs it, but I’m not his mother, after all.
I’m sticky and sandy and I just want to have a shower and not engage in some pointless fight with him. I go to my suitcase and grab a change of clothes.
“You played my guitar today,” he says.
I look up and meet his gaze. I’m not going to apologize for it. It’s one of his backups, and no one would consider it a great guitar. “I tuned it for you.”
“I didn’t need you to tune it for me,” he snaps.
Oh, believe me, Six. You needed me to tune it.
“Josh spent all of breakfast and half of the golf game laying into me about what I said, by the way,” he says. “So that was fun.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. I didn’t need Six to be scolded, but I kind of love that for once in my life, someone took my side. Especially when I’m not sure I deserved it.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” I reply, grabbing my clothes. “But you shouldn’t have either.”
For a moment I’m certain he means to argue, but then he puts his glass down and crosses the room, pulling me against him. I’m in my bikini, he’s only in shorts, and it’s the most physical contact we’ve had since this so-called vacation started. He hardens and I try to ignore it.
“You’re right,” he says. “I just—”
“Please don’t double down and defend what you said,” I reply, stepping away. “Just don’t.”
He laughs and pulls me back to him. “Okay, babe. Whatever. You’re the best guitarist in the fucking world. Are we good now?”
No, I’m not sure we are.
I close my eyes and see a gray sky, bare trees. A driver glancing back at me in the mirror, thinking I’m too young to be on the bus for so long. It’s what I remember whenever I’m feeling lost, whenever I’m scared.
Or whenever I suspect I’m on a dangerous path, and I think maybe I am right now. I just don’t know if it’s Six, or his brother, who’s the danger.
PART III
KAUAI
“Home to staggering vistas and lush vegetation, Kauai is, without a doubt, the most beautiful of Hawaii’s islands.”
From Kauai: The Garden Isle
23
DREW
January 29th
“Kauai is believed to be the most beautiful of all the islands,” Beth reads as Josh drives us from the airport to Princeville, located on Kauai’s north shore.
I stare out the window at the dreamy coast off to our right, trying to ignore my desire to look at Josh, to point things out to him or study his broad hand resting on the console near mine, the flex of his bicep as he steers.
“Oh,” Beth murmurs. “For major medical care you have to be transported to Oahu. That’s disappointing.”
Josh’s gaze slides to mine and we both smile. His skin is tan from the long days outdoors, his hair glinting gold, that sensual lip of his looking like it was made to be kissed.
“I’m so excited to see it all,” Beth says. “I just wish Josh wasn’t here alone. Drew, do you have a sister you can set him up with back home?”
“Only my stepsister-in-law,” I reply. “She’s married, so that’s a problem, but she might even be too evil for Josh.”
“I think you’ve mentioned her,” Josh says, his mouth twitching. “What was it you called her again?”
I bite my lip. “Aggressive?”
He smiles. “No, it was something else. I’m trying to think…”
“Don’t try too hard,” I reply. “We can’t afford to have you fry a circuit board right before the backpacking trip or you’ll need to be medevacked to Oahu.”
We both laugh and for a second I forget there’s anyone else in the car. I catch myself and turn back to Beth. “What’s the deal with the backpacking trip?” I ask her.
“There are two distances. I signed all you kids up for the longer one. Jim and I will do the shorter. It’s supposed to be one of the world’s most scenic hikes.”
Josh winces. “Mom, are you sure you want to backpack? Scenic usually means altitude and there’s a big difference between hiking, and hiking with forty pounds of gear on your back.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says, lips pinched.
He looks at her in the mirror. “How about if we drive over to the trail today to check it out?” he asks. “It’s not the kind of thing you want to figure out when you’re too far to get back easily.”
They exchange another silent look and she concedes, unwillingly.
Six, who’s been on his phone this entire time, looks up and for one unrealistic moment, I hope that he’s stepping in to side with Josh about the backpacking trip. I’m not even sure I’m ready for this trip so there’s no way Beth is. But he’s only looking at me. “Babe, we got it,” he says. “Pitchfork is doing a profile of us.”
My eyes widen and when I smile at him, it isn’t fake. A profile in Pitchfork could be huge for the band, just the push they need. Yet everyone in the car just looks politely blank, as if he’s made the most mundane of announcements. As if he’d said Babe, they serve piña coladas at the pool or Babe, let’s make sure to get t-shirts today.
“That’s amazing,” I reply, squeezing his hand. I turn to his parents. “Pitchfork is, like, huge.”
“Well, it’s no Rolling Stone,” says Jim, and I could throttle him with my bare hands for trying to diminish Six’s moment.
“Rolling Stone covers music but they’re more general,” I say. “Pitchfork is all music. It’s the one people who are actually into music would read.” My voice grows a little hard at the end, daring him to challenge me on this. He chooses not to, wisely.
“When’s the interview?” I ask Six.
He pushes a hand through his hair and shoots me a worried glance. “They’re talking about doing it sometime this week.”
There’s been an ongoing battle about who will be the face of the band—Six, the founder, or Brian, the lead singer. Six won’t want to miss the interview and let Brian take over, especially as he has no respect for people like Brian who don’t play an instrument, which is probably why his bullshit in Lanai bothered me as much as it did.
“You can call in,” I say. “People do it all the time.”
He nods, but his nostrils are flaring and he’s still staring at his phone. I already know what he’s thinking. I can see it in his face.
Don’t do this to your mom, I think. Beth has been so eager to see him, to have this time with him.
“I could just fly back for the day,” he suggests. “I’d be back the next night.”
“But you’ve already missed half the trip,” says Beth. “You would miss out on backpacking.”
He laughs. “Sorry, Mom, but I wouldn’t consider missing backpacking a big sacrifice.”
His glance toward me is pleading. He wants me to back him up and I just won’t do it.
“Going to LA would be a lot of effort for something you can accomplish by Zoom,” I say, a trifle coolly. “I promise you’ll still be quoted.”
He nods, discontent with my answer, and I have a feeling this isn’t over.
Josh turns down a long road, passing a golf course, and we arrive at the St. Regis. Six calls Brian the second we’re out of the car, arguing volubly, while I follow the Baileys inside.
The hotel isn’t open-air the way the last two were, but it has the most magnificent view of all through the floor-to-ceiling windows along its back half: a coastline of green cliffs jutting out toward the deep blue sea. In all my travels, I’ve never seen anything like it.
I don’t have to turn to know it’s Josh standing beside me a moment later. “Every time we arrive at a hotel, I think it can’t be topped,” I say quietly.
He glances at me with something affectionate in his gaze, a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone else. “You’re thinking of living off the land again, aren’t you?”
I laugh. “I’m gonna see how backpacking goes before I commit.”
He bites his lip. “Thanks for stepping in back there,” he says. “In the car. My mom will be devastated if Joel leaves.”
“I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he leaves,” I reply. “Probably not the kind of thing I should say aloud but my mom is good at her job. She’ll make you look like an unreliable witness.”
Beth approaches, waving keys. “Isn’t it wonderful?” she asks.
“It’s breathtaking,” I tell her. “Thank you so much for doing all this. You’ve picked out the most amazing hotels and I’m so glad I got to see it all.”
She smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I’m so glad you came. You have no idea how happy it makes me to have you here. Just wait ‘til you see the views tomorrow.”
Josh raises a brow at her. “That reminds me. We’re going to check out the trail, aren’t we?”
He gives me a grin over her head as she sighs loudly and starts toward the front doors. He’s a good son. A good man. If his brother was just a little more like him, I might be able to make this work.
24
JOSH
My mother is almost impossible to irritate, and yet I’ve managed.
She doesn’t want to look at the trail. She doesn’t want to face her limitations. Clinging blindly to bad plans has worked for her thus far, if anyone would consider her marriage working. I’ve allowed her to do it. I’ve lived with her shitty choices and I’ve done what I can to keep her happy in spite of them.
But this is different. I read about this hike on the plane. Even if she isn’t doing the dangerous part, it will still be steep and slippery, and while I want this trip to be everything she dreamed of, I can’t let her get badly injured in a reckless last bid to see the world.
We arrive at the parking lot, and she’s tired simply from the quarter-mile walk to the start of the trail. She marches forward anyway, into the dense woods, reminding me a little of stubborn Drew on our first hike.
I laugh quietly at the memory of her that day, so tired and thirsty because she refused to bring water.
My mother looks at me over her shoulder and her expression softens. She’s unable to stay mad at me or Joel for long, which is a big part of the problem. If she’d ever been able to stay mad at my brother, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such an asshole. “What’s funny?” she asks, with a hint of a smile. “I know you’re not already laughing at me.”
“I was thinking about Drew, the day we hiked Pillboxes,” I tell her. I’m still grinning. “She’s so goddamn stubborn she wouldn’t admit she was exhausted. She wouldn’t even admit she needed water. All I had to do was tell her not to jump off one of the bunkers and she’d have done a swan dive just to prove me wrong.”
My mother laughs. Already, not five minutes into this hike, her breath is labored. “I really love that girl,” she says. “I hope your brother doesn’t mess things up.”
My chest is tight. My mother is too blind to Joel’s faults to see just how terrible he is for Drew. “I suspect he already has.”
My mother waves a dismissive hand. “They’ll still end up together,” she says. “Mark my words. She’s good for him.”
But he isn’t good for her. I think of her in Lanai yesterday, saying I’m not looking for that when I suggested she should be able to lean on someone. Whatever happened to her growing up, being with him will only continue the cycle, and I want it to stop.
My mother continues to plow forward, though the path is muddy and it’s going to be a beast to come back down, part of what makes this hike so treacherous.
Her pace is slowing. We have to step off the trail to let other people pass us. I can see in her eyes that she’s mostly given up. I hate it, though it’s for the best.
“I know it’s hard,” she says, “and I know you’re very different people, but please make an effort with your brother. He’s going to need you when I’m not here.”
I close my eyes in frustration. He’s the last person I want to help, he’s the last person I want to support, but there is so little I can do for my mom, other than this. Other than being civil to my father when he doesn’t even try to hide that he’s cheating, or being pleasant to my brother when I want to punch him in the face. “I know, Mom,” I tell her. “I’m doing my best.”
We make it to the first lookout point. From here, there’s a clear view of the cliffs stretching out for miles and miles, the waves crashing hundreds of feet below us. My mom looks at it and swallows. Her eyes fill with tears.
I wrap my arm around her. I knew the day I arrived in Honolulu that her cancer had spread. She was frail but also jaundiced, so it’s probably in her liver. She wants us to have this one last trip together without the weight of what’s coming. I’m trying to give it to her.
“It’s a really good view,” she whispers.
I swallow hard. “It is.”
“Let’s get a photo,” she says, brushing away her tears. I hold the camera far enough to get the two of us and the coastline behind us. We both smile.
I hope I can look at this later on and convince myself we were happy.
25
DREW
Six and I sit out on the small beach overlooking Hanalei Bay and the cliffs of the Na Pali coast.
I want to kayak down this little river that winds toward Hanalei, but Six is scared to be away from his phone and more scared of losing it if we go in.
“I’m not letting Brian fuck me over,” he says. “Because you know he’ll try.”
I can’t help but think that if I were in his shoes, he’d be saying Babe, chill.
“Your mom was really upset about you missing the trip,” I tell him while he waits for his email to refresh. He nods distractedly and I put down the cocktail menu. “Six, are you listening to me?” I demand. He glances up—alarmed, slightly irritated.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says as if I’m nagging, “my mom was upset. I’m here now. I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Suddenly my patience with him evaporates. I’m not sure why, but this trip matters to Beth and it’s as if we’re all failing her, even me. She wants to bring her family together, she wants to see her boys settle down, she wants Jim to pay attention to Six the way he does Josh, and it’s like herding cats…the harder she works, the more they seem to wander off in different directions, evading her.
“I want you to stop being a jerk,” I reply.
He meets my gaze at last. “What?”
“Six, take a look at your mother,” I tell him, and suddenly my throat is clogged. “Do you know how goddamned lucky you are? All she wants in the entire world is to spend time with you and make you happy. That’s it.”
I have to stop because I really am going to cry and I’m not entirely sure why. I’m far too old to still be hoping for that from my own mother.
