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I was tempted to feel shame at that. I’d grown up on the streets of LA, and it was only through determination and strength of will that I’d avoided getting caught up in the criminal life. It was tempting and so easy to do. But I’d always kept my nose clean, and I’d enlisted to get myself away from those kinds of temptations. The fact that my life would end up going to shit worse than if I’d stayed home was not something I predicted. And now, at twenty-nine, I’d had my first ride in the back of a cop car.
But I couldn’t feel ashamed. Devon was my best friend after all, and he’d done time—time he’d deserved for the crime he did. Like him, I couldn’t see how else it could have gone. If I had it to do over again, I’d still pull Trent Wallace out of that fucking car, cops or not, and I’d still put my hands around his throat. In fact, if I had to do it again, I’d probably squeeze harder.
So no, I didn’t feel shame. But guilt—that was different. Guilt was something I had a lot of.
Olivia was with Gwen, Devon explained to me, staying with her while she dealt with cops and doctors and making sure she got home okay. Since Gwen’s phone had been smashed by Trent, she was out of contact, except through Olivia.
“You should go see her,” Devon told me as we drove back south of Oakland and headed for my car. “Olivia says she’s at home. She’s shaken up, but calm.”
I looked out the window. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Maybe you should let Gwen decide that.”
I looked at him. I was in no mood for a lecture, even from my best friend. “You know this is my fault, right?”
Devon shook his head. “I knew you were going to say that.”
“I was going to say it because it’s true. If I’d stayed the hell out of Gwen’s business, if we’d never bought that building and pushed Trent Wallace into a corner, none of this would have happened.”
“So what were you supposed to do?” Devon asked. “Let him keep stealing from your girl?”
I paused at the words your girl, realizing that I’d never thought of Gwen that way, but it felt right all the same. She probably had a dif
ferent idea. “There were other ways I could have handled it.”
“Sure,” Devon said. “Let him off the hook. Let him skate. Leave him free to go steal from and scare and coerce other women instead. You could have done that.”
“Gwen wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” I argued.
“Or she would have,” Devon said, calm and implacable. Devon was always calm, except when it came to Olivia. “Maybe, when he learned about your money, he would have hurt her anyway in a play to blackmail you, and it would have turned out the same. You ever think of that?”
I glared at him, uselessly since he was staring ahead at the road. “Fuck, you’re a philosopher now?”
“I’ve gotten wise,” he said, pissing me off. “I’ve had to. Listen, Max, you’re smart, and you’ve always had balls. We both know it. But having money just means your balls have to get bigger and your smarts have to get smarter. That’s what I’ve learned since inheriting. You make a call, you follow through, and you deal with the consequences, whatever they are. That’s how you have to live.”
I scratched my beard slowly. “I’m giving my money away,” I told him.
“Oh yeah?” He didn’t even sound angry. “To who?”
“Other veterans. Does that count as having balls?”
“Yes. And what happens when the money is gone?”
I thought I didn’t know the answer, but I did. It came straight from my gut. “Then I’ll raise another five, and give it away. And another. And another. I don’t give a fuck how long it takes. I’ll do it until I’m dead.”
Devon was silent for a second. “You tell Gwen any of this?”
“No.” I looked out the window again.
“Think about it,” Devon said.
I made my gaze stay out the window. I made myself say the words, though in the end it was easy. “I love her a lot.”
He let the words hang there. “I got that part,” he said. “I’ve known you a long time. But it’s better if you tell her.”
“I’m shit for her,” I said.
We were in the parking lot, pulling up next to my car. “Yeah, well,” Devon said. “Like I say, maybe you should let her decide that.”
