The Rise Of A Broken Man

Six

For three days straight, Devon worked like his life depended on it, maybe it does, but he was also trying to put behind him the thoughts of the people that caused him pain.

And he was actively waiting and hoping Hector had something for him, but whether or not he did, he was seeing Miguel today, soon actually, because his shift was almost over. He needed to tell him he was leaving. He owed him that much.

Clearing his throat, he closed the bonnet of the car he had just finished working on, and was walking towards Miguel’s office when he heard someone called him.

“Dev?”

Without turning, he knew who that was, and he wanted to pass out. What in the world was she doing here? He thought as he stood mid-step, praying to God it was just his ears playing tricks on him.

“Dev, is that you?” she asked, and he turned slowly, making sure to put in place the usual mask he always had on.

It was true that his chest was burning, and bile had risen up to his throat, but he sure made sure to not put up any expression on his face. “Who’s asking?” he asked as he saw her.

Of course, he was right, it was Diana.

Before he could think up what else to say, the woman started towards him and flung herself into his arms, pressing her face against his rock hard chest, her scent drifting into her nose.

What the…

For a split second, Devon forgot how to breathe, with a woman pressed against him, a woman whom he hadn't allowed himself to think about since the last time he saw her in case he lost himself.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hands still resting on his chest. Her eyes; those same blue eyes that used to look at him like he was her whole world, were glossy, full of something he didn’t want to name. “It is you,” she breathed. “I… I didn’t believe it at first when I heard Miguel call your name that day. Dad didn't notice but I did, but I couldn't see your face, so I wasn't sure.” she said.

Devon's muscles locked, and he could feel his lungs locked tight, his heartbeat hammering so hard it felt like his ribs could crack from the pressure. For a second, everything went quiet and it was as if no one was moving, just her voice, her scent, her touch.

Then instinct kicked in and he took her gently by the shoulders and pushed her back. It wasn't rough or anything, just firm enough to make space between them.

When he spoke, he was surprised his voice didn't shake, even though his pulse was anything but stable. “I’m not sure who you think I am,” he said, his tone controlled, distant. “But you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face as she looked up at him, almost like she was craning her neck. “What?” she breathed, like she hadn’t heard him right.

“I said,” he repeated, forcing the words out through his throat, “you’ve got the wrong person.” Thankfully, he wasn't clenching his teeth, but his fist were beside him.

For a heartbeat, she just stared at him. Her lips parted, her eyes searching his face, like she was trying to determine whether or not that was the truth.

“No,” she whispered. “No, I know it’s you. Devon.” She said his name like it meant something. “You’re angry, and I don’t blame you. You have every right to be. But please, just let me explain…”

“There’s nothing to explain,” he cut in, his jaw tight. “Because whoever you’re looking for, it’s not me.”

Her chest rose and fell fast. “Then why’d you turn around when I called your name?”

He didn’t answer, but the truth was, he didn’t know. Reflex maybe. Habit. Or maybe some part of him still recognized her voice like a bad song he could never get out of his head.

Before he could respond, a voice broke in from across the shop.

“Hey, Devdan!” Hector called, walking toward them with his usual easy grin. “The boss wants to see you.”

Devon stiffened for a second.

Diana blinked, her mouth forming a small O. “Devdan?” she asked, her eyes darting between Hector and Devon. The frown that followed was small but visible, as if she was trying to piece it together and couldn’t make it fit.

Devon just looked at her, the expression on his face so unreadable, his shoulders squared.

After a long pause, she gave a small, embarrassed laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “I… I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I must’ve made a mistake.”

He didn’t answer or move, he just stood there staring.

She stepped back, her gaze lingering for half a second longer before she turned and started toward the front of the shop, her heels clicking against the concrete until she got into her car and drove away.

Only then did Devon let out the breath he had been holding, his jaw tightening again.

“Devdan, huh?” Devon asked as he looked at Hector.

“Well, it was the only name I could think of. I heard everything and thought to step in.” he said.

Devon shot him a grateful loo. “Thank you. Reason I have to leave this place.” he said, and Hector nodded in understanding.

“Yeah well, let's go to Miguel’s office.”

As they walked through the shop together, he didn’t say anything, and neither did Hector. There wasn’t much to say anyway. His chest still felt tight from what had just happened; the scent of Diana’s perfume still lingered somewhere in the back of his mind, clinging to the air like smoke he couldn’t clear.

His body was a damn betrayal, he couldn't believe he was reacting like that to someone from that family. After everything, he was still feeling like a fool?

He shook his head to clear out the thought, just as they got to Miguel’s office.

Miguel was behind his desk, glasses perched on his nose, flipping through a few papers. He looked up as they came in, his easy smile appearing. “Devon,” he said, leaning back in his chair as they sat. “Hector told me you’re thinking of leaving.”

Devon hesitated, then gave a short nod. “Yeah. I appreciate everything, but I think I should go.”

Miguel sighed softly, like a man who understood more than he let on. “I figured you might. You’ve been carrying something heavy since you got here.” He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out an envelope, sliding it across the table. “For you.”

Devon frowned, glancing at it before slowly picking it up. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Your pay,” Miguel said simply.

Devon opened it and blinked as he counted it. Two hundred dollars. His brows knitted. “This… this is more than it should be. I haven’t even worked a month. This can’t be right.”

Miguel smiled, his expression kind. “You’ve earned it. You show up early, you work hard, and you don’t complain. Men like that are rare these days. Take it.”

Devon swallowed, fingers tightening around the envelope. “Thank you.” The words came out rough, like they scraped their way up his throat.

Miguel nodded once, then glanced at Hector, a small spark of amusement in his eyes. “You want to tell him, or should I?”

Hector grinned. “I’ll do the honors.” He turned to Devon, who looked confused. “We found you something, man. The vineyard up in Valemont I mentioned? Well, it just happened they’ve been looking for a mechanic who can handle their transport trucks and machinery. I made a few calls, and they’re willing to take you. Pay’s better, too.”

Devon stared at him, silent for a moment, processing. “You're serious?” he asked quietly, half disbelieving.

“Dead serious.” Hector’s grin widened, and he clapped him on the shoulder. “And that’s not all.”

Devon pushed up a brow. “There’s more?”

Miguel leaned forward, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “That old pickup you finished working on last week; the blue one sitting out back?”

“Yeah,” Devon said slowly. “What about it?”

“It’s yours,” Miguel said. “I was planning to sell it, but you need it more than I do.”

Devon blinked, surprised. “Wait… what? No, I can’t…”

“You can,” Miguel interrupted gently. “And you will. It’s not much, but it’ll get you where you need to go.”

For a long moment, Devon didn’t speak. His throat was tight, his heart somewhere between disbelief and something that felt dangerously close to gratitude. He looked between them; two men who had no reason to help him, but did anyway.

He swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.” he said.

“Then don’t anyting,” Miguel said simply, standing to offer his hand. “Just do good. That’s enough.”

Devon shook his hand firmly, his grip strong despite the tremor in it. “Thank you so much,” he said again.

As they left the office, Hector nudged him lightly. “See, man? Not everyone’s out to screw you over. Sometimes life throws you a bone.”

A bone huh? This was more than a bone, judging from the hand he had been dealt before.

Maybe the world had decided to repay him for all the wrong it had dealt him before, and by God, he was going to collect.