Page 6 of The Devil

“Boss,” he says, gesturing to the two through the window. “They’re fine.” Amal and Daniel are ordering at one of the kiosks.

“I’ll take it from here. Take the rest of the day off.”

“You sure?”

I know he’s exhausted. He’s been up since four this morning. So have I but I don’t have a family to go home to.

“Go.”

He nods his gratitude. “See you tomorrow.” He drives away and I take his place watching Amal and Daniel. When they walk out a few minutes later, Daniel is happily picking fries out of his bag two at a time and Amal is sipping on a milkshake. When she sees me, she stops momentarily and lays her hand protectively on Daniel’s shoulder, tugging him just a little closer, a furrow forming between her brows.

I smile, give a casual wave.

Daniel waves back, pointing me out to Amal, as if there was any way either of them would miss the lime green Porsche. She rolls her eyes, unlocks her car door and gets inside ignoring me altogether.

I follow them back to my family’s private club where the reception is taking place. I make no move to be subtle about tailing her. She’s a smart girl. She knows the reality of her situation, the consequences of her father’s actions.

The parking lot is full of the families loyal to the Trevinos. They’ve come to pay their respects to the king’s heir. I also notice a few soldiers from some of the other families in bordering territories. Not quite friends, but peaceful. For the moment.

Amal pulls up to the valet. He opens her door and she climbs out, scans the parking lot. I take note of every single pair of eyes that follows her.

“What happened to Malcom?” she asks as I catch up and walk alongside her to the front doors.

“Hey Jet.” I mock. “It’s good to see you. Thanks for keeping an eye on us. How’ve you been? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

She stops, sighs loudly. “What? Did you miss me?” She looks up at me through dark lashes looking coquettish as she sips her milkshake.

“Didn’t miss that sass,” I say, plucking the milkshake from her hands and sipping from her straw. Pretty as her eyes are, shadows circle them. She looks tired. I don’t like it. “Chocolate. My favorite.”

“Why were you late to the church?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Busy morning.” I take another sip of her shake.

I think she’s just going to take the cup back from me, but she takes hold of my hand instead and turns it over to study the back.

It’s unexpected and when her fingers brush over my bruised knuckles, something weird happens in my gut.

I look down at her small, pale hand on mine. Delicate. Unblemished. Guiltless.

The opposite of mine.

Of me.

I shift my gaze back to hers. She’s watching me from behind thick black lashes, the blue like cut glass. “Mob business?” she asks.

I don’t answer.

She drops it and takes her shake back. She sips, eyes never leaving mine. “You know if you think you’re being subtle in that lime green Porsche…” she trails off.

“Subtle is pretty much never what I’m going for. Let’s get inside,” I say, setting a hand at her lower back to walk her into the building.

Daniel comes up on my other side. “Hey Jet.”

“How you doing, buddy? Survive that long-ass baptism?”

“Barely,” Daniel says, sighing loudly.

“Fry?” I ask.