The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (The Devils #2)(37)

“You’re right,” he says. “I just—”

“Please don’t double down and defend what you said,” I reply, stepping away. “Just don’t.”

He laughs and pulls me back to him. “Okay, babe. Whatever. You’re the best guitarist in the fucking world. Are we good now?”

No, I’m not sure we are.

I close my eyes and see a gray sky, bare trees. A driver glancing back at me in the mirror, thinking I’m too young to be on the bus for so long. It’s what I remember whenever I’m feeling lost, whenever I’m scared.

Or whenever I suspect I’m on a dangerous path, and I think maybe I am right now. I just don’t know if it’s Six, or his brother, who’s the danger.





PART III





KAUAI





“Home to staggering vistas and lush vegetation, Kauai is, without a doubt, the most beautiful of Hawaii’s islands.”

From Kauai: The Garden Isle





23





DREW





January 29th





“Kauai is believed to be the most beautiful of all the islands,” Beth reads as Josh drives us from the airport to Princeville, located on Kauai’s north shore.

I stare out the window at the dreamy coast off to our right, trying to ignore my desire to look at Josh, to point things out to him or study his broad hand resting on the console near mine, the flex of his bicep as he steers.

“Oh,” Beth murmurs. “For major medical care you have to be transported to Oahu. That’s disappointing.”

Josh’s gaze slides to mine and we both smile. His skin is tan from the long days outdoors, his hair glinting gold, that sensual lip of his looking like it was made to be kissed.

“I’m so excited to see it all,” Beth says. “I just wish Josh wasn’t here alone. Drew, do you have a sister you can set him up with back home?”

“Only my stepsister-in-law,” I reply. “She’s married, so that’s a problem, but she might even be too evil for Josh.”

“I think you’ve mentioned her,” Josh says, his mouth twitching. “What was it you called her again?”

I bite my lip. “Aggressive?”

He smiles. “No, it was something else. I’m trying to think…”

“Don’t try too hard,” I reply. “We can’t afford to have you fry a circuit board right before the backpacking trip or you’ll need to be medevacked to Oahu.”

We both laugh and for a second I forget there’s anyone else in the car. I catch myself and turn back to Beth. “What’s the deal with the backpacking trip?” I ask her.

“There are two distances. I signed all you kids up for the longer one. Jim and I will do the shorter. It’s supposed to be one of the world’s most scenic hikes.”

Josh winces. “Mom, are you sure you want to backpack? Scenic usually means altitude and there’s a big difference between hiking, and hiking with forty pounds of gear on your back.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says, lips pinched.

He looks at her in the mirror. “How about if we drive over to the trail today to check it out?” he asks. “It’s not the kind of thing you want to figure out when you’re too far to get back easily.”

They exchange another silent look and she concedes, unwillingly.

Six, who’s been on his phone this entire time, looks up and for one unrealistic moment, I hope that he’s stepping in to side with Josh about the backpacking trip. I’m not even sure I’m ready for this trip so there’s no way Beth is. But he’s only looking at me. “Babe, we got it,” he says. “Pitchfork is doing a profile of us.”

My eyes widen and when I smile at him, it isn’t fake. A profile in Pitchfork could be huge for the band, just the push they need. Yet everyone in the car just looks politely blank, as if he’s made the most mundane of announcements. As if he’d said Babe, they serve piña coladas at the pool or Babe, let’s make sure to get t-shirts today.

“That’s amazing,” I reply, squeezing his hand. I turn to his parents. “Pitchfork is, like, huge.”

“Well, it’s no Rolling Stone,” says Jim, and I could throttle him with my bare hands for trying to diminish Six’s moment.

“Rolling Stone covers music but they’re more general,” I say. “Pitchfork is all music. It’s the one people who are actually into music would read.” My voice grows a little hard at the end, daring him to challenge me on this. He chooses not to, wisely.

“When’s the interview?” I ask Six.

He pushes a hand through his hair and shoots me a worried glance. “They’re talking about doing it sometime this week.”

There’s been an ongoing battle about who will be the face of the band—Six, the founder, or Brian, the lead singer. Six won’t want to miss the interview and let Brian take over, especially as he has no respect for people like Brian who don’t play an instrument, which is probably why his bullshit in Lanai bothered me as much as it did.

“You can call in,” I say. “People do it all the time.”