Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,106

I got worse. Destroyed my marriage, almost lost any chance of having a relationship with my own son. I let my compulsions take the lead. When he came home…well, that’s when I realized I had to get it together. For him.”

I give him an insincere smile. “Lucky for me, I’m not a dad.”

“Yeah, you probably are lucky about that.” He jerks his head to the circle. “Come on. I promise no one will bite.”

It’s obvious he’s not going to do me a solid and sign the paper. Not much, this whole Devil solidarity lark. Uneasily, I follow him into the room and take a seat among the other attendees. Warren starts the meeting with a small opening and then asks for people to speak. Thankfully, a guy to my right jumps right in.

Once again. Hot pokers. Fingernails.

I only half listen as he talks about his cravings for booze. The stupid decisions. His shitty mother. Warren makes his way around the room, allowing each person to speak, and I couldn’t care less, and I mean that literally. There doesn’t exist within one human the capability to not care about something as much as I don’t care about these peoples’ problems. I tune halfway in only because it confirms what I already know: I’m nothing like them. I choose to gamble. I enjoy sex. I like to party. None of it controls my life. I was brought down by pettiness and jealousy, and my own rotten fucking luck.

In the recesses of my brain I can hear Georgia saying, “You did this to yourself.”

“Heston,” Warren prompts, pulling me from my thoughts, “do you want to share?”

I let my head fall back, muttering, “Hot fucking pokers.” There’s a stain on the ceiling in the shape of a drooping eye. What the hell. I’ve got nothing to hide—not from these losers—and who knows. Maybe if I do the whole kumbaya shtick, Warren will sign my paper and let me fuck off. “I’m Heston. I’m here because the judge ordered it.” I make that clear right up front. “I make bets—gamble—on fights, races, debts, women.” Shrugging, I add, “I’m good at it.”

“What do you feel when you gamble?” Warren asks.

I narrow my eyes. This is that introspection he was talking about. “I feel good when I win and pissed when I lose.” I grin, lifting my chin. “Not that I lose very often.”

“But what do you feel before the outcome? The ‘why’ behind your actions?”

I glare at McAllister. Is he fucking kidding me with this shit? He just raises his eyebrows and patiently waits for an answer. Walking out of here now would just make it seem like I do have a problem. Sighing, I push my hair out of my eyes and try, “What I’m feeling at the time is boredom. Believe it or not, there is such a thing as having too many options. I had cars, boats, credit cards, connections. My life has been set up for me since I was a kid. My father had it all laid out—zero risks. No matter how much shit I stirred up, he got me out of it because nothing was going to stop me from following his grand plan.”

“Until now,” Warren counters. “Hasn’t he cut you off? Don’t you think he’s hoping you clean up your own messes for once?”

“Sure, that’s my old man. A real paragon of virtue and parenting all of a sudden.” I scoff, knee bouncing restlessly. “People are so fucking stupid. You really think any of this is about me? It’s not. It’s about him having a new golden child.”

“Your brother.”

“All hail Saint Sebastian, am I right?” A flicker of anger churns in my stomach and my heel taps the floor, a rapid rhythm against the cheap linoleum. “Everyone acts like I’m the bad guy here, but you know what Sebastian used to be? Jack shit. Just some scrawny little sophomore itching for a fight.” I jab my finger into my chest. “I gave him the opportunity to shine. I carried all of our father’s expectations on my back while he was getting coddled and pampered. I left him my goddamn legacy, and what did he do? He came in and took what was mine.”

“That’s just one of the many ways you're different from your brother. He gives fantastic head. So selfless and giving. Really takes his time to make sure he’s making a girl feel good.”

I jolt to my feet. “Is that enough introspection for you?”

“I think it’s time we