Devin followed his dad home after the festival meeting. It wasn’t really a meeting after Shayla left. Instead everyone took sides about whether or not to believe she was alone that night. He’d opened his mouth to say he’d spent the night with Shayla too many times, but what would that fix? They wanted her in some man’s bed so they could throw their poisonous gossip darts. The Reverend had finally gotten tired of the escapade and cancelled the rest of the meeting. Saying he’d pray for everyone’s soul that night.
Roscoe sat on his front porch and Devin folded his large frame beside him.
“You were with her on Saturday, weren’t you?” Roscoe asked.
Devin sighed, no need to deny it to his dad. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“And make them hate her more for luring me away from her cousin?”
Roscoe rubbed his face. “I never should have pushed that.”
Devin turned toward his dad. “Why did you? I thought you wanted me with Shayla.”
“I do, but you two were working hard at staying apart. I thought forcing you on a date with Kia would show both of you how wrong you were. I didn’t know she’d storm out on you, that you’d get in a fight with Tony.”
“Tony deserved to be hit.”
“If you hit him for what I think you did, then I agree with you.”
Devin’s eyes widened. Roscoe frowned and looked away. “I overheard him one day, years ago, bragging about what he did to Shayla. If that’s why you hit him, then good job.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew everything?”
“Shayla had left town, you were determined to forget her, it was better to leave it alone.”
Devin turned to watch the sun set behind the trees. The beauty of it was lost on him, his mind on Shayla.
“How does she get wrapped up in these messes?”
Roscoe placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Because people want her wrapped up in these messes. Everyone needs someone to be their morality scapegoat. It makes them feel better if they can look at another person and think that person’s life is more screwed up than theirs.”
“If we were together, is that how it would be?” Devin said mostly to himself. “Everyone waiting for her to mess up and prove that she’s a screw up.”
“No. Everyone would see how much you both love each other.”
Devin’s head whipped around toward his dad. “Who said anything about love?”
Roscoe shook his head and squeezed his shoulder. “Son, it’s as clear to me as the nose on your face. You’ve gotta decide if it’s strong enough to face the constant attacks that’ll come if you pursue it.”
His dad stood and went into the house. Devin turned back to the trees, but the sun was no longer visible, the sky a mixture of reds and oranges reflecting off the pine trees. He let his dad’s advice sink in. He didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of his feelings for Shayla, but she did. He wasn’t afraid of withstanding the attacks. But Shayla was.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he read a text from Shayla. Midnight. He gripped the phone in his hand. Regret for treating her like a booty call ate away at his insides. She didn’t deserve his anger. He’d agreed to keep their relationship a secret and couldn’t behave like a petulant child whenever she reminded him of that.
Loosening his grip, he started to text back that he’d meet her, but stopped. He had rounds at the hospital tomorrow. And his first appointment was scheduled for seven forty-five. As much as he wanted to spend the night with her, he couldn’t afford to.
He dialed her number. His heart rate picked up speed when her silky voice answered.
“I’m sorry for inviting you to the hotel like that. It won’t happen again.”
“There’s nothing between me and Tyrell.” Her voice was firm. It wasn’t necessary, he believed her.
“I know. But why the painting?”
She sighed. “It was just a gift, Devin.”
Her tone was defensive which irritated him. His confidence wavered. If there was nothing between them, she had no reason to get defensive. But, there was no need to pick a fight.
“I can’t meet you tonight.”
“Because of the painting?”
“No, because I have to work tomorrow. I can’t spend the night in a hotel room.”
“You know what, fine. Call me when you’re ready for my services.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Shayla, come on. You know it’s not like that. Besides, you’re the one who wants a secret relationship.”
“I’m through talking to you. Goodbye.”
After she hung up, he stared at the blank screen of his phone. Damn, foolish woman. Why did everything that involved Shayla Monroe have to be so complicated?