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Devil You Know(22)

By:Max Henry


“Okay.” I stare down at the white tablets in my hand. I know I can’t expect him to stick around all the time, but a part of me is crushed that he’s leaving me alone.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassures me, placing a hand on my arm. “I’ll lock the gate at the road, and leave you my number so you can get in touch if anything worries you.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t stress too much.”

“I can’t help but be concerned.” He pulls away and crosses one ankle over the other knee, staring out the dimming light. “There’s food in the kitchen, so make whatever you feel like. We can do a shop later in the week.”

“You aren’t sticking around to eat?”

He shakes his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “No. I just . . . I can’t.” He launches out of the seat, and bends over to kiss my forehead. “I’ll be back tonight.”

I watch him walk into the house, grab his keys, and go. My body hums, cloaked in a warm, comforting glow. The feeling is different to anything that I ever felt with Dylan, and I can’t place if it is something I felt with either of the two boyfriends I had in my teenage years. Those relationships were so long ago now, that any emotions I did have at the time are cloudy, poisoned by the bad experiences I’ve had since

I don’t know what this is between Malice and I. The intimacy that he shows leaves me unsettled, but at the same time I know on a deep level that I enjoy it. I crave it. In those brief moments I can return to the fantasy that I, Jane, have a man who loves me, and cares for me.

Ludicrous, I know. But for the while it’s nice.

Besides, what girl doesn’t enjoy playing pretend?





I LIED to her, and I feel unease about it that I’m not used to. I don’t care about shit like that. Not normally.

Floodlights click on as I pull up to the house. Sure, I told Jane I needed to sort some stuff out, and that part at least was a little truthful. I do need to sort some stuff out—stuff in my head.

I kill the engine, and leave the pick-up to head for the door. Two dogs rip to life out the back, warning me away—never mind the fact I’ve known them since they were puppies. They have a job to do. I can’t fault them for that.

The wooden steps creak under my weight, and although Bronx will know I’m here, I knock anyway. I was raised better than to walk into somebody’s house unannounced, no matter how many times I’ve been there.

Music resonates from within the residence, and the sound of laughter punctuates the heavy bass beat. Seems the party’s started already. The door swings wide, and Bronx meets me with his arms thrown wide.

“Brotha!”

A smile rips across my face, and I take his outstretched fist into a clinch, and bump shoulders with him as I pass by. “How’s things?”

“I thought you were going to be a no-show.” He tips his chin at one of the boys sitting in the living room as we make our way through to the kitchen. “You owe me a fifty, Ty!”

“Had something to square away first,” I explain.

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t gonna press you. Your business, and all that.”

A smirk tugs at my lips. He’s gagging to know. I can tell by the way he stands beside me like a damn chaperone.

“I’m not telling you anything, Bronx.”

“Aww, what?” he roars. “We’re mates.”

I could guarantee the empty bourbon bottle on the bench belongs to him, too.

“Mates, yeah. Not each others fuckin’ agony aunt.”

He slaps me on the shoulder, and walks away, shaking his head. “One day I’ll get all your dirty secrets outta ya.”

I smile as I run my eye over the choice of liquor we have tonight. The rules have been since the early days that the host supplies the drinks. Bronx and I have been meeting up with the other boys for going on eight years now. Not all of us make it every time, but our fortnightly ‘wind-down’ nights have become a steadfast tradition between us.

Who am I talking about?

The brothers who are closer to me than anyone related by blood will ever be. The guys who have had my back through thick, and thin. These are the men I’d trust with my life, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual with each and every one of them. We’re a bunch of kids who grew up on the street, thrown together in adverse situations, and have stuck together as a means to survive.

Demons cripple a man left to fight alone, but allies can take on the world.

I learnt that the hard way.

“What’s your choice?”

I turn and give a nod to Ty as he enters. He leans against the bench for stability while he pours himself another whiskey.