Page 45 of Devil's Hour
“Heartless, greedy bastard. You have so much,” Benton sneered. It had always been a massive bone of contention between Royce and his siblings that Aunt Tipsy had left the house to him.
“Stop blaming other people for your addiction, Benton. Do you want nice things? Get cleaned up once and for all and get a fucking job.”
“My, aren’t you a smug son of a bitch suddenly? I guess the fancy man is rubbing off on you. Literally.”
“I’m surprised you even know what literally means,” Royce countered. “Get out of here.”
“You’re going to regret choosing him over your own family. Mark my words.”
If given a choice, I’m going to pick you.His declaration to Sawyer echoed in his mind, mocking him. Sawyer probably thought Royce hadn’t chosen him tonight, but his safety was Royce’s top priority. Royce held his brother’s glare and said, “You’re going to regret it if you don’t stay away from Sawyer. Markmywords.”
It felt like a declaration of war, but Royce wasn’t backing down. Benton flipped him off and slammed out of his house. He heard tires squealing moments later. Royce immediately called Sawyer because he needed to know they were okay. Sawyer didn’t answer the first time, the second, nor the third. He was probably pissed, and Royce couldn’t blame him.
“Damn you, Royce. Stop being a dumbass.” Royce grabbed his keys and headed to his Camaro, where he noticed a new scratch down the entire length of his car.
“Goddamn it, Benton.” The fucker had keyed his car from bumper to bumper. He’d have to recoup his insurance deductible in a pound of Benton’s flesh because the fucker had no assets or money.
Royce tried Sawyer’s cell again and then growled in frustration when he didn’t answer. Dropping the phone in his cupholder, he slammed his palm a few times against the steering wheel. “Fuck!” Royce yelled, so angry with himself he was starting to see red.
The song on the radio ended, and though Royce didn’t usually pay attention to the DJs, this one said something that caught his attention.
“There’s been much speculation since the sex scandal broke earlier today, but we’ve received word that Mayor Lynette Goodwin is officially announcing her resignation tomorrow morning at ten.” She’d held out longer than he’d thought.
Royce’s phone rang, but the person he wanted to speak to the most wasn’t the one calling him. Forcing cheerfulness in his voice, he accepted the call and said, “Hey, Candi. What’s up?”
“‘Hey, Candi. What’s up?’ That’s it? No cutesy name? Am I chasing you off with my constant whining about my problems?” She tried to strike a humorous tone, but Royce could hear the tears in her voice.
“I could never be tired of you, honey. Returning to work has been insane.”
“If you’re with Sawyer, maybe I should call you back—”
“No way, Candi Cane. You don’t call unless it’s important. What’s up? Do you need me to watch the kids while you work?”
Candi broke down and started crying then. “You’re so good to me. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this without you.”
“I love you and the kids, you know this. Besides, Marcus was my best friend, and he’d never forgive me if I didn’t look out for you. Just tell me what you need, and it’s yours.”
“I need a miracle, Royce.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I can help you out there, but I can come over, and we can talk. I give great hugs, and maybe I can help you sort some things out.”
“The bank is going to repossess my van, and I’m in jeopardy of defaulting on our home equity loan too. It’s bad, Royce. Really bad.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Hang tight.”
“Okay,” she said through tears. “Thank you.”
Rage and sorrow pummeled his heart after they disconnected.Why, Marcus?Then guilt moved in because it hurt to be this angry with someone he’d loved so much, someone who couldn’t defend their actions, even though they seemed indefensible. Marcus was dead, and no amount of shouting or raging would bring him back. All he could do was be there for Candi and the kids.
He tried Sawyer’s phone once more and started to worry when he didn’t pick up. Sawyer wasn’t the kind of guy to ignore a problem. He faced things head-on. So why wasn’t he giving Royce hell if he was mad or hurt? Then again, why wasn’t Royce leaving messages?
He dialed Sawyer once more and didn’t hang up when the call rolled over to voice mail. “I’m sorry that I mishandled the situation with Benton. I didn’t ask you to leave because I’m ashamed of us, Sawyer. I just wanted you away from my tweaker brother who wouldn’t hesitate to pull a knife on you. I was on my way over to your house to talk in person, but Candi called. She’s in big trouble and needs my help. Please call me back. I choose you. Always.”
Royce entered through the sliding glass door off the dining room in Candi and Marcus’s house. He tried to focus on how much he loved Candi and the kids instead of thinking about the awful Saturday afternoon when he’d entered through the same door and found his best friend dead inside the garage with the car running. He once loved this house so much but now hated it with a passion. Not only was it the place Marcus had chosen to end his life, but Royce had learned the home was built on lies, at least partially so. The man who’d patiently scraped off ugly wallpaper and repainted the walls whatever color Candi had chosen wasn’t the same man who lived a double life for three years. The man who’d cried tears of joy when he brought Marc home from the hospital wasn’t the same person who’d been indifferent when he brought Bailey home seven years later.
Royce had learned the hard way that Marcus was flawed, but he still loved and missed him every day.
A loud thump on the second story followed by boyish giggles popped Royce’s dark mood like a needle to a balloon, and he smiled. Those little boys were two of the reasons he was there, and his pain was immaterial. Candi loved the house and wanted to keep it, so Royce wanted that for her too.