Page 49 of The Devil

“And you never will.” I close the menu as a waiter comes to take our order.

“Do you know what you want?” Jet asks me.

“The mussels to start and the special for dinner with a side of fries please,” I say, hungry. I haven’t been starving myself, but I’ve also been too busy to be paying much attention to my diet since I’ve been here. The limited funds didn’t help. Edinburgh is expensive. But also, I was here on a mission and knew my time could be cut short. Someone was going to find me. It was just a matter of time. I know I’m lucky it was Jet.

I know I’ve lost a few pounds just by how my clothes fit, and now, sitting in this restaurant with the wonderful smells, it’s all I can do to squeeze my stomach muscles to stop it from growling embarrassingly.

“I’ll have the special too. No starter for me. And a bottle of my usual wine,” Jet orders.

“Yes, Sir.” The waiter takes our menus and I watch Jet. He looks completely at ease here.

On the heels of the waiter is another who sets a basket of bread down along with various butters. I pick up a roll and tear it into two, butter it generously then take a big bite. When I’ve finished it, I glance at the second roll.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask him.

He pushes the basket toward me. “Go ahead. Try the other butter. It’s better.”

I take the roll and he’s right, the other butter is even better than the first. The wine comes as I’m finishing off the bread and once the waiter pours, Jet orders more bread. I pick up my wine glass, and we sit watching each other from our opposite sides of the table.

“Tell me what you’re doing here, Amal. Why Scotland?”

Well, I knew I’d have to answer at some point. “I don’t know,” I start and it’s not completely a lie. “My mother was from here.”

His eyebrows furrow as he studies me. I keep talking but I can’t tell him much more than that. I’m too ashamed.

“The diary. My mom’s diary. I found it after everything. When we were leaving the house, I was packing things up and I found it.” I don’t mention why she left Scotland. The truth of it makes me feel a little sick.

“So you’re looking for family?”

I shrug a shoulder and put food into my mouth to buy a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe I want to know why she was the way she was. Maybe I want to know why she died the way she did.”

He studies me. Don’t make me say it, I think. I beg. Don’t make me say the words out loud.

“Those names in your notebook?” he asks. Does he know she took her own life? Is that why he’s not pushing?

“Connections I’d made through diary entries,” I say, that part being true.

“What was your plan then? If you found family.”

“If my mother’s family is here, if they’d be willing to take Daniel, I could bring him here. He could forget all about Malek. He’s young enough. And Cassian wouldn’t have to hurt him. He’d never have to see him again.”

“Cassian isn’t going to hurt Daniel.”

“Not yet. Not while he’s young. But later, you don’t know. And there’s another reason. I’m not entirely stupid, Jet. I want to erase Malek’s existence from my brother’s memory. I don’t want him growing up thinking he’s a monster.”

“Do you think you’re a monster then?”

I don’t expect that question. Not at all. And certainly not as casually as it’s asked.

When I don’t answer, he leans toward me. “Because you decide who you are, Amal. The blood in your veins doesn’t define you. Your choices do. Your actions do.”

He says it with such conviction, such fierce belief, that all I can do is listen. It takes everything in me to keep my eyes from filling with tears. I don’t want to show Jet how this upsets me because he doesn’t know the half of it.

The monster within the monster.

“Do you like being called the Devil?” I ask without consciously thinking of the question but wanting to know. Because I have a feeling he embraces it. He’s at home in his skin.

“First of all, I don’t think you’re stupid,” Jet says, choosing to focus on that part of what I said rather than any other. “Reckless but not stupid.”