Ps: The picture is Peter.

Devlin swore softly as he heard footsteps and whistling that were getting louder down the hall. He was seated behind his desk in his study and didn't need a companion - much less a very annoying one.

To his chagrin, the uninvited guest didn't bother to knock but opened the door of his study with lazy grace. He poked his head in while holding the door open.

"Devil! You in here?"

"What do you want Peter?"

His cousin whipped around in his direction and grinned. "Good to see you too, Dev."

Devlin ignored his humor. He was busy. He had a lot of things on his mind, a lot of things to sort out, and Peter was stopping him from going about his duties. Granted, he hadn't been giving what he'd been studying a hundred percent concentration, what with his heart skipping beats whenever he thought of Pamela?

He felt like a bastard at the way he'd spoken to her the other night. He owed her an apology - hell no, he would cut his tongue off before he apologized. He'll just send her a bunch of flowers, white roses maybe. Most ladies would be thrilled to have flowers sent to them.

But Pamela wasn't most ladies. She was spoilt, yes. She was a brat, yes. But she possessed something that always pulled at his heartstrings, making him break more rules than he'd want to admit.

"Why are you sitting there all alone, cooped up in this dreadful room?"

"It's called a study." Devlin glanced back down at the charts he had been studying.

"Doesn't mean it has to be stuffy. It stinks of arse in here."

Devlin didn't want to lose spit over him. "Show yourself out when you're done."

Peter grinned. "Not bloody likely."

He scraped back one of the chairs that faced Devlin's mahogany desk that served as his study table and plopped down on it, propping his legs on the table.

Devlin glared at him. "What do you want?"

"That's the fifth time you've hurled that question at me -"

"- two but who's counting -" Devlin muttered under his breath.

"- one would think you didn't give a shit about me but you do. If I killed myself you'll cry, that's for sure."

Devlin couldn't resist raising his brows in mock surprise.

"Then the whole world will know you're not so hard after all." Peter grinned, showing off immaculate white teeth.

Devlin sighed. It was no use trying to get back to what he was doing. When Peter was around, not much work gets done. He stood and moved to his wet bar and poured himself a straight scotch. He raised the bottle towards Pete, in askance, if he wanted a drink and he shook his head in negation, still showing off his teeth. "You went to the dentist, I see." He remarked dryly.

Peter gave a small shout of victory. "Hurrah! You noticed!" He grinned widely like a cow as Devlin returned to his desk with his glass. "I had to give my teeth a refreshing whitening." He leaned forward and whispered, "You noticed, and you said you didn't love me."

Devlin didn't remember when he said that but he let it pass.

Peter sobered up, his giddy expression turning sour. "I was told that my teeth were god-awful."

Devlin resisted the urge to laugh and won, but his eyes held glints of humor and the endings of his lips lifted slightly.

"She must have been very important to get you to hurl yourself down to a dentist. I'm not sure you've been to one all your life."

Peter balled his hands into fists, his eyes narrowing into slits. "I'm so going to show her the stuff I'm made of -" Then he did a double-take. "Wait, how did you know it was a she?"

He sipped his scotch. "So I was right."

Peter sighed. He relaxed on the chair and his expression turned dreamy. "Her name is Alex. "

With a start, Devlin realized something. It was unpleasant to think of it. Was Peter - was Peter in love? He studied his cousin and shook his head in disbelief. Peter was in love. How could he have let himself fall in love when he knew well the implications?

"She has turquoise blue eyes and -"

"Cut the crap, Peter. You came here for something. Get on with it."

"Gee, take it, easy old man," Peter said giving him a look of disdain but it melted into curious speculation. "Why are you acting like you've got ants in your pants? Not like the ants would survive, they would probably freeze to death at the sights of you."

Then Peter lifted his legs from the table and leaned in towards Devlin. Devlin kept sipping his drink. It was all he could do to keep from throttling him.

"Or are you afraid I'll infect you? Don't worry big cousin. Love isn't communicable. You'll catch it all on your own -"

"When hell freezes over."

Peter gave him a wary look at the coldness in his voice. Devlin didn't need to but he felt he had to clarify.

"People like me don't get the chance - or luxury to fall in love like some idiot. I've killed people and done terrible and dangerous things. I don't think I want to dump all that on some unsuspecting woman. Besides, my enemies could use her as leverage. She could be my undoing."

A part of him wondered if the 'she' was Pamela, and if so, he's been doing a fine job of keeping her safe. She couldn't be his undoing -

He caught himself. He was not in love with Pamela. He only felt animalistic lust for her. That's all. His thoughts were interrupted by Peter's clapping.

"Wow, what a touching speech. You should have told me beforehand to get popcorn and a box of Kleenex."

Devlin placed his glass on the table with a thud to show his displeasure.

"So, what you've said now, with the affectionate display - and I have to give you credit on that - is that you don't deserve love."

"Aptly said."

"No, I don't think I heard you right."

"You're hearing is excellent. I do not deserve love."

"Because you were trying to survive?!" Peter's sudden outburst of anger surprised Devlin, but he hid it behind an expressionless mask. He'd rarely had to use the mask with Peter but he was fast becoming a pain in the butt. An affectionate pain, no doubt.

"Trying to uphold a responsibility thrust upon you? You need to give yourself a break and be less stupid."

Devlin remained stoically silent.

"Face the facts, Dev, you're human. Yes, you've killed people but it's because they were hardened criminals messing with your business. You haven't done anything to innocent people."

Devin wanted to mention that innocent teenagers get stoned and die because of the very business he was into but he kept quiet.

"You're a great guy, one who could have given up a long time ago, but you fought and strived to be what and where you are now." He pointed his finger toward Devlin. "You're a good guy."

"Thanks. Call the priest. I'm ready for sainthood."

Peter shook his head, refusing to be miffed by his sarcasm. "I have found love, and it's the most heavenly feeling in the world. My heart keeps lurching whenever our eyes meet, and when I'm around her, I feel so energized that I feel I could win a boxing contest with The Rock."

Devlin steeled his thoughts from a particular person with whom he felt the same. Peter was still staring dreamily at the ceiling like an idiot.

Bloody whoreson.

"Once, we were in danger - not something to lose sleep over - " he quickly added when Devlin raised his brow on hearing 'danger'.

"Love has made you reckless and careless. Your temerity will be your undoing."

"No, your loveless life will be your undoing because when this is all over when the war is over, you'll need someone to hold and say they love you - and I hope to heaven you do - and when you don't have anyone, it'll drive you crazy. Nevertheless, as I was saying, we were in danger, but I did all I could to protect her. I wasn't even thinking of myself. All I thought of was getting her to safety even if that meant getting my balls blown off."

Devlin resisted the urge to point out that just as he'd said less than thirty seconds ago, his temerity would be his undoing. But something was gnawing at him. He was doing all he could to push to the back of his mind that person he'd wanted to protect at all cost when they'd been in danger.

Devlin leaned back into the cool leather of his chair and took a sip from his glass. "As much as I enjoy your sorry tale, you should get going. I'm busy."

Peter resumed his humorous attitude. "Well, what was I here for? I've forgotten." He propped his legs on the desk again and Devlin slapped it off. "Hey! That hurts." He wailed.

"You wanted a favor." Devlin made a rolling gesture with his hand that Peter should get on with it. He didn't doubt it was money.

His 'cousin' wasn't actually his cousin. Devlin had no family. He had met Peter in a certain foster home - Devlin couldn't recall for he had been in and out of foster homes, been transferred from one to another because of his rascally and boorish behaviors. But he had recognized Peter one night when he had run into him on his way to deliver drugs to a hooker.

Peter had also escaped from the system and was sleeping on the roadsides and eating out of dumpsters. It was barely a year after Robert had taken him home, and Devlin had prayed Robert would accept Peter. It had taken a lot of persuasion but Robert had accepted and had trained Peter in the business, but Pete was never sharp enough for it. Devlin eventually took over and here they were.

Peter loved living flamboyantly and spent money on trivial and material things. Since money was not a problem, Pete had had paychecks every month from him. Calling Pete his cousin had been a front to ward off suspicions about his upbringing, even though they were more like brothers. They were that close - and Devlin cared for him, so much that it annoyed him.

Annoyed he couldn't strangle him when the need arose. Devlin had a distinct feeling it would arise soon.

"That's right." Pete jarred Devlin from his thoughts. "It's about Pamela."

Devlin immediately stilled. "What about her?" He asked calmly. Too calmly. But inside, it was brewing hot. His thoughts were tumultuous and not due to anger. But fear.

What did Peter find out about her? Was she okay? There was no way he could know because he was in one of his safe houses down in Texas. He'd left her in Anchorage, Alaska.

Much to Devlin's relief, Peter grinned. "She's a real beauty."

Devlin relaxed his bunched fists and gave his friend slash brother slash cousin a look of inquiry.

"You know how she glows and radiates from within. She sure will make any woman green with envy. She's sweet and succulent like a pineapple -"

"You're wasting my time." Devlin cut in. He didn't need anyone to tell him how beautiful or how succulent - especially how succulent - she was.

"Well," he breathed in and Devlin couldn't help but feel apprehension. This son of a gun should spit it out and get it done with.

"I -"

Devlin fought the urge to shoot out of his chair and throttle him.

"I want her to be my date to a ball!"

~

RIP Peter, lol.

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