ON MY WAY home that evening, I saw Devon sitting next to the pool. When I raised my arm to wave, he signaled for me to come closer. He was reclining in one of the chairs beside the pool, wearing his ARMY trunks and nothing else. His hair and shorts were wet as if he’d recently gotten out of the water. As I approached, he stood, slipping his feet into the flip flops sitting beside his chair. He met me at the fence.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.
“I thought you should know,” he spoke softly so no one overheard, despite the empty courtyard. “I called the Anikitos this afternoon about last night. He needed to know so he can deal with Brandon.”
“I know,” I shook my head. “I talked to him before work.”
“He didn’t say anything, but I’m glad you did. I’m worried this is just the start, something
