The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (The Devils #2)(32)

“Does anyone actually want to backpack?” asks Six. “That sounds like a lot of work for not much fun.”

Beth deflates visibly. She’s been down over Sloane’s departure all afternoon, and Six’s lack of enthusiasm is the icing on the cake. I feel forced to salvage this.

“I think it sounds amazing,” I gush, “but I didn’t bring any gear.”

“Oh,” she says, perking up. “I rented it all there. You only need your toiletries and a change of clothes.”

“Great,” I say weakly. As much as I was hoping to get out of it, if it matters to Beth, I’m in. She’s been so nice to me this entire trip that I’d suffer through worse for her, and surely camping can’t be all bad or people wouldn’t do it.

“And,” she adds, reopening her guide book, “they have a hospital in case one of us gets hurt. Unlike Lanai.”

I glance backward, but it’s not Six I look at. It’s Josh. His mouth moves ever so slightly, as if he’s trying not to laugh. Suddenly, the backpacking trip doesn’t seem so awful after all.





The Four Seasons Lanai feels exactly how I’d expect a Hawaiian hotel to feel, if it were crafted by billionaires for fellow billionaires. Everything is lush and jungle-y and wood toned. A man-made lagoon stocked with tropical flora and fauna quietly weaves through and around the hotel, exotic birds squawk from cages, and even though the hallways are open to the outside, there isn’t a speck of dirt anywhere. The tropical breeze is gentle, not too warm and not too cold. I imagine they’ve managed to somehow pull strings with Mother Nature along with everyone else.

Our room faces the ocean, of course. Even from the doorway I can see dolphins frolicking, putting on a better show than you’d get at Sea World.

Six wants to play guitar for a while, so I put on my bikini and wander to the beach. Almost no one is out this late in the day, aside from Josh.

I grab a towel from the attendant and wave him off when he offers to get me a chair. “I’m just here to harass someone,” I tell him.

Josh glances over—head to toe and away again, as if he wants me here and doesn’t want me here, all at once.

“My mom just went up,” he says.

“Did you want to be alone?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “As long as you’re not down here to tell me a hundred times that you hate that I’m on this trip by myself, we’re fine.”

“I’m sorry about Sloane.” Not that I’m sorry she’s gone, necessarily, but I know all too well what it’s like to be the third wheel.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says.

I glance at him. I didn’t think it was my fault, but his response, and the way he’s avoiding my eye right now, leads me to think he does. “I know it’s not my fault. I was just trying to express sympathy, robot man. It’s what humans do for each other.”

“Ah, so we’re assuming you’re human now? That wasn’t the premise I was working off.”

It’s kind of a low blow. I feel closer to him than any member of the Bailey family at present, but now that Six is here, he’s apparently shunted me right back to being the stranger he hates.

“Fine,” I reply, standing. “I’ll let you sulk by yourself.”

“Hey,” he says, reaching up to grab my wrist. “Stay. I’m sorry. I’m just a little…testy about the whole thing. There’s nothing like having your mother desperately sad about your dating life to make you feel like you’ve gone wrong somewhere. That’s all.”

I retake my seat. If he’s feeling bad here, it will be worse in Kauai. Does he really want to be the only one sleeping in a tent alone? It’s not as if Six won’t go out of his way to make him feel like an asshole about it either.

“Okay,” I reply softly. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Like, if you want me to sit out the camping trip or whatever, I—”

He smacks his forehead. “Jesus, no. The one thing that could make this whole shitshow worse is abject pity from you of all people.”

And there we have it. Just that fast, he’s back to being an asshole. I laugh, the sound so sharp and bitter even the birds startle. “Right,” I reply. “The girl so pathetic she might steal the silver. Pity from her would be a new low, wouldn’t it?”

His eyes go wide. “What?”

“I heard you. Last summer. You were complaining about how I wasn’t good enough, and then you told your mother to keep an eye on the silver. Don’t try to talk your way out of it either. There’s really not much room for interpretation in a statement like that.”

He closes his eyes and blows out a resigned breath. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It…sounds much worse than I intended. And I guess saying I didn’t think you and my brother were a good fit doesn’t sound much better.”

I’d secretly begun to hope he had an excuse, like Tali suggested. That he didn’t really think I’m a piece of shit. But no—that’s exactly what he thought.

We watch the waves lap against the shore for a moment. I’m going to try to get over the silver thing. It probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much in the first place if I hadn’t spent so many years subject to Richard’s tantrums and accusations—That thieving Russian bitch was in my room again was all he had to say about me to ruin my week. Maybe because I was nine when he started saying it.