୨ ♡ ୧
Devon was standing at the back of the room in a black suit, his dark circles more pronounced than ever. It was Eugene's funeral, and he had asked his mother for permission to attend, a request she didn't hesitate to grant. She understood what her son was going through.
Devon had returned to Pittsburgh for a few days, welcomed by Margo. Apparently, his father was out of the country for work, which was fortunate because Devon had no desire to deal with the man at a time like this.
From his spot, he could see Eugene's parents crying, but he didn't dare approach them to offer condolences. He still felt somewhat guilty and was content with being allowed to attend the funeral.
Tears welled up again, but he wiped them away before they could fall. Just seeing Eugene's photo there made his heart ache in a painful way.
A couple of hours passed, and slowly the attendees started to leave. He spotted some students from school who were friends of Eugene, but he didn't approach them, nor did they approach him. However, he overheard that there would be a small ceremony at school.
"Devon?" He snapped back to reality when he heard someone calling him. It was Eugene's mother.
He nodded.
"Yes," he murmured.
The woman gave him a sad smile and took something out of her pocket. It was a notebook page. She handed it to him along with a wooden box.
"Thank you for coming," she said, her voice filled with sorrow. "I would have liked to meet you in different circumstances. But... my Eugene really cared about you, don't doubt that. He had more issues than you know, and I don't want you to feel guilty about what happened. That was just the last straw."
Devon nodded, trying to choke back a sob, taking the note and the box.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Kennedy. Eugene was a great guy. I really cared about him."
The woman nodded and walked away slowly with her husband. Devon then looked at the note with sadness and fear of what it might contain.
It took a moment until he finally opened it and smiled upon recognizing Eugene's handwriting. It wasn't really a letter, more like a note.
"Devon, I know you're probably racking your brain, thinking this is your fault, but it's not. I learned from you that I shouldn't be afraid to be myself, and I started ignoring what they said at school because I still had friends who accepted me as I was. I just think I wasn't really content with my life, and there were many more things tormenting me. Remember that I'll always love you, Devon.
Forever yours, Eugene."
Devon tried to smile a little, but tears silently streamed down his face.
"If something was bothering you, you should have told me, idiot," he muttered but kept the note.
He then opened the wooden box and found many pictures he had taken of Eugene. Some were only of Eugene, but there were also several with both of them. There were also various trinkets that Eugene had probably saved from their dates and gifts Devon had given him. Devon didn't hold back or wipe away the tears that began to flow again.
He stayed in the city for a few more days with Margo, helping her with the kids since she had given birth to her second child and seemed to be going crazy on her own. However, he had to go back home.
But before returning, there was still a little matter to settle. That morning, when he was supposed to go back home, he left his old home after saying goodbye to Margo, promising to let her know when he arrived. However, his first stop before the airport was his old school.
There was a small altar in honor of Eugene. Devon stared at it for a moment and then continued on his way. No one seemed to notice his presence much, and that was good.
He walked through the halls, with a little over twenty minutes left before classes started, so he had enough time to carry out his mission.
He reached the men's bathrooms, the ones farthest from the entrance, practically on the other side of the school. Just as he had imagined, there was Gerald George. The guy whose cheek he had broken and the reason his father decided to send him to his mother. Gerald still had a part of his face bandaged, and the bruise was still clearly visible. However, he was with his other five friends, and all six were bothering a poor freshman who was probably just passing by.
Devon felt a sudden anger, and without hesitation, he approached them with clenched fists.
"Not even after I broke your face, you stop being annoying," Devon spoke with more calmness than he thought.
Gerald froze instantly upon hearing Devon's voice and slowly turned to look at him. He looked like he had seen a ghost, suddenly looking much paler. The other five also seemed confused, and the poor kid took the opportunity to run away.
"It seems like you didn't learn your lesson last time," Gerald spoke with confidence.
Devon let a smile show.
"It seems like you're the one who didn't learn your lesson. Besides, today there's no one to defend you. No one knows I'm here, and..." Devon sighed as he took out a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket, the photo his mother had shown him. "I would like to know if it was you who distributed these sheets."
The little courage Gerald had acquired vanished suddenly, and he even felt like he was about to faint.
"I... I..." he couldn't even speak. "I didn't mean to... I... that was..."
It was obvious that Gerald felt guilty about Eugene's suicide, but Devon didn't care at all. He was going to make him pay, even if he couldn't kill him.
Devon put the sheet back in his pocket and stared at Gerald.
"If you or any of your buddies tell anyone about this... well," he smiled, "it's better if that doesn't happen. Understand?"
Gerald could only nod with tears in his eyes.
"Good boy."
Devon stood up and left that place. He didn't want to admit it, but he did feel a bit better after hitting him. Who the hell said revenge was bad? When it actually felt pretty good.
🥀
Upon arriving at Seattle airport, he was greeted only by Charlie. It was Thursday, so Bella was probably at school, and his mother was at work.
"You didn't have to bother," he told Charlie when he saw him.
The man shook his head with a small smile.
"None of that. I had to come this way for a case, so it was on my way."
Devon smiled gratefully, and both headed to the patrol car. It was faster since there were no suitcases. In the car, both remained silent for a long moment.
"So..." Charlie cleared his throat. "You like guys."
Devon turned to look at him with some amusement. Charlie stared straight ahead while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He unintentionally let out a laugh.
"Yes, Charlie. I like guys."
Charlie nodded nervously.
"That's perfectly fine," he glanced quickly at Devon, "I mean, it's really okay. You should be happy, and I hope you are."
Devon laughed softly again.
"Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate you saying that."
The mentioned man nodded, feeling lighter. He didn
't want to make Devon uncomfortable in any way, but he also wanted to make sure of what Amy had told him.
"If anyone bothers you about it, call me," he spoke more confidently this time. "I'm an officer, and nobody messes with my family. You don't have to endure mistreatment or anything."
Devon felt warmth in his chest hearing that. When he told his father that he liked guys, the man looked at him with disgust and called him a damn freak while hitting him hard in the face. Margo had to intervene that time.
But he was happy that Charlie and his mother took this so well.
"Thanks, Charlie. Really."
The man nodded, feeling better. He didn't want to discomfort Devon in any way, but he also wanted to be sure about what Amy had told him.
"If anyone bothers you about it, call me," he spoke more confidently this time. "I'm an officer, and nobody messes with my family. You don't have to endure mistreatment or anything."
Devon felt warmth in his chest hearing that. When he told his father that he liked guys, the man looked at him with disgust and called him a damn freak while hitting him hard in the face. Margo had to intervene that time.
But he was happy that Charlie and his mother took this so well.
"Thanks, Charlie. Really."
The mentioned man nodded, and they continued the journey with a rather calm conversation.
🥀
So the days went by. Devon faced his grief the best way he could, but it was still difficult. During these days, he hadn't seen Edward either, which was somewhat strange since his brothers attended regularly. But in the end, he didn't pay much attention and focused on his studies.
Two very quiet weeks passed.
That morning, Devon left the house behind Bella, who slipped on some ice at the entrance. He rushed to help her stand.
"Thanks," she murmured.
Charlie also hurried over; he had just arrived in Bella's truck.
"Are you okay?" he asked his daughter.
"Yeah, even if the ground wasn't frozen, I would have slipped," she joked, and Devon let out a laugh.
"Well, I changed the tires on your car. I'll be home late today," he looked at them both, "I have to go to Mason County. There's been an attack on a security guard."
"An attack? Here's not Phoenix," Bella reminded him, "you have to go help."
Charlie headed to his patrol car.
"Be careful," Bella told him.
"See you later," he bid farewell to both and got into his car to leave.
Bella looked at Devon.
"Do you want me to give you a ride? It looks like it's going to rain heavily any moment now."
Devon shook his head.
"Thanks, Bella. I prefer to go on my bike."
The girl nodded.
"Then I'll see you at school."
Devon put on the gloves he had stored in his jacket pockets, then adjusted the felt to tighten them a bit, and finally, he arranged his jacket to cover his neck, avoiding the cold. Lastly, he put on his helmet. Then he started the bike, but everything happened so quickly, and Devon could barely register the events in his brain. He had advanced a couple of meters when he saw a car starting to pull out, and a truck couldn't stop. He tried to brake, but the street was too wet, and he ended up losing control of his motorcycle, crashing into the car that was trying to get out first and flying a couple of meters over the trunk before hitting the ground with considerable force. But not only that. The truck that couldn't stop crashed into Bella's truck.
He was grateful for wearing the helmet; otherwise, it would have been a terrible blow. Still, he felt a strong pain.
"Devon, are you okay?" he heard someone's voice, but at that moment, he couldn't recognize anyone since he had his eyes closed tightly. He just raised his thumb, even though a sharp pain in his shoulder made him hold his breath to avoid complaining.
They didn't want to move him until an ambulance arrived. Was this his karma for enjoying hitting Gerald so much?