Return

Devon walked out of her bathroom and caught a glimpse of herself in her closets' floor length mirror. Walking closer she stood admiring herself, something she actually hated doing, but today was different. She lightly ran her fingers over her long blonde curls and pulled on the people's favorite which was currently resting on her shoulder. She stepped closer to get a better look at her hazel eyes; only one person had ever noticed one was just a bit darker than the other. Devon rather roughly gripped her abdomen finding the excess skin to knead. Her abs were there but to her they could always look better. Now, her thighs on the other hand were just plain genetics. No matter how hard or long she worked out they just wouldn't cooperate. And what she lacked in her breasts she made it up in her very shapely ass. Help comes in mysterious ways.

An alarm in the back of her bedroom went off and told her that she had been staring at herself way too long, "Fuuuck," she sang and hurriedly dressed for work. As she finished lacing her boots, almost on cue, her cat Eliegh suddenly appeared at her left side. Devon turned and jumped at her cat's sudden appearance then squinted her eyes in suspicion, he wanted something she just knew it, "What do you want Cat?" she asked.

Meow.

As much as Devon liked the animal she couldn't help but not trust him, she had rescued him from an animal shelter about three years ago and the cat was just odd.

Meow

"Ok. I get it," Devon said, "You want to be fed." She headed down her hall then made a right that led her into her dining room/kitchen area. Reaching into her pantry she pulled out the cat's dish and his favorite food in another attempt to win him over. Pouring him a rather hefty serving, because she planned on being late today, she set the dish on the floor in front of Eliegh, "There," she said and swore he squinted his eyes back at her, "Now I might be home late today so make sure you eat up."

Meow.

Devin sighed knowing that Eliegh now cared less of what she spoke or even did because he was eating. She slid into her coat and grabbed her keys as she headed out the door.

Life was good until 1645 that afternoon.

"Come in," she called when a knock at her door interrupted her work cycle.

"Hi, Ms. Wallace," Sarah, her timid new secretary, said, "There's a gentleman here to see you?"

"Ok?" Devon wasn't sure why the woman sounded so worried.

"Well he isn't on your list.., he said that he is your father.., but you two don't have the same last name? Do you even know a David Perry....,"

Devon stopped listening, or rather zoned out. She breathed deeply trying to contain the anger that threatened to leap out of her chest and destroy anything and everything in its path. She tried to keep her face blank but knew that she was failing when Sarah stopped talking.

Very softly, Sarah asked, "Do you want me to tell him that he needs to leave?"

"No," Devon snapped, and then softer, "No send him in. Give me about ten minutes first ok?"

"Yes ma'am."

Devon winced at that, it had taken her a full month to get her timid secretary to call her Ms. Wallace, "Sarah?"

The frail woman looked back, "Yes?"

"You have done nothing wrong."

"Yes ma'am," was Sarah's reply as she shut the door.

When David Perry was allowed to see his youngest daughter she was standing at the window in the back of her office, her back facing him, "That's a little unnecessary don't you think?" He asked taking a seat behind her desk.

"Nothing is unnecessary with you," Was his daughter's terse reply.

"I am your father," David sighed, "I mean you no harm."

"You were lying when you said that seven years ago," Devon said while rotating her shoulders shifting the shoulder rig into place. Feeling the light weight of her two 9mm Compact Heckler and Koch pistols always was a comfort.

"Well sweetie...," David was cut off.

"Do not call me sweetie," snapped Devon turning around to get a good look at her father whom she hadn't seen in seven long years. He looked older. As in older than Devon thought he should look, she assumed that he would have gray hair if his head wasn't shaved. His clothes bore old stains. Not to mention that they were frumpy and lose. Like David had slowly been losing weight, a lot of weight, now that Devon remembered. David looked as if he had lost about 100 pounds. But she could also tell that he hadn't slept in a very long time. Black circles under David's eyes stretched out to his cheek bones and were dark as day old bruises, and his eyes were off. As if he was trying, and of course failing miserably, at hiding something. Devon had only seen that look twice in her 28 years that she remembered and it meant one thing, "What do you want?"

"I have come to bring you home," David replied he even had the audacity to look surprised at her skepticism.

"No, this is my home..," Devon started.

"Devon, you have been gone too long, and there are things that need to be tended to at home. Please don't make this more difficult."

"Did you not hear me before you cut me off? I said no and then I said that this," Devon waved her hand about her office to make sure that her father got the point, "is my home. Don't make this more difficult on you? You are the one who kicked me out. You are the one who told me not to come back. And before you even start to say something to that, when you are being thrown out of your house you pay attention to what the person who is throwing you out says. So you know when or if for that matter you can come back!" Devon almost shouted that last part.

"When, I told you to not come back.., I didn't think that you would actually stay gone. I thought that maybe after you calmed down or realized how hard it would be on your own you would come back," David said apologetically as he stood.

What shocked Devon the most wasn't that he actually just apologized to her, but his tears, the two or three that actually managed to escape, before he ran a hand over his face and erasing all remnants. That was the real David Perry. "You think that you can come here, tell me that you want me back home and that I'll just follow? And then when that doesn't work, shed some tears in some heart filled fake as fuck apology and then I'll go? It would be stupid to ask if you have lost your mind, that's evident. But what in the hell makes you think that I would go anywhere with you, especially 'home'?"

"You're mother..," David started but stopped as he choked on what normal people would call tears, "She died, two days ago. I tried to find you when she first got sick. No one knew where you were, or even how to find you. I had to hire a private investigator. His office is in the same city as yours..,"

Again, Devon zoned out, letting the words of her father digest. Her mother was dead. He had to hire another P.I to find her and his office was all too ironically in the same city as hers. Her options were down to two other males in this city, one she would have to kill. She wondered how long it took him to give in and hire a P.I to find her. Or come to the realization that he was a total dumbass because his youngest daughter had been hiding only two states away. And her mother was dead. And she didn't know how she really felt about it. Of course it hurt but at the same time, Devon felt relieved that her mother was finally out of the hell hole that her father made his home.

"Devon?" David asked walking towards his daughter and reaching out a hand his finger tips brushed her arm.

Before David could move back or Devon could finish kicking herself in the ass for letting herself zone out like that with her father present, her right hand was tightly gripping its favorite pistol and jamming it in David's face. "You do not have the right to touch me. Back up slowly and sit the fuck back down," Devon snapped while pushing the pistol into her father's face, making him stumble backwards.

"Devon, please, I'm so sorry for what happened that night," David shuddered completely shocked at his daughter's display.

"No, Dad," Devon spat at her father still pointing the pistol in his direction, "that is never something you get to apologize for. You beat me. You beat me until I begged. And when that didn't work I screamed. You didn't stop until Mom told you that I was staining your carpet. Fuck you."

David sobbed openly now, his body shaking and trembling.

"Is everything ok in there?"Sarah called through the door.

"Yes, Sarah. Order Chinese, I'm starving," Devon called back without taking her eyes off of her father.

"Yes, ma'am."

"When is the funeral?"

David's sobs stopped, "You're going to come?"

"I loved my mother. My only regret is never coming back to rescue her from you. You didn't deserve her, none of us did."

"It's this weekend, at the church on 8th street. You remember how to get there?" David said with all too sick a smile on his face.

"No, I definitely forgot my way around a town that only has eight streets," Devon sarcastically snapped glaring at the piece of shit that was her father.

"There's twelve now," David said in a failed joke.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"When are you coming in?"

"When I get there."

"How long are you staying?"

"The day."

David sighed at his daughter's curt and rather rude responses, "Can you at least put the pistol away?"

"When you, leave my office." Devon's grip still hadn't faltered.

And with that David left his youngest daughter's office.

Sarah didn't seem surprised or vexed with Devon when she dropped off Eliegh for safe keeping. Actually she seemed happy and in her words, "I really like cats," although Devon didn't see any sign of any of animal in the young woman's small studio apartment. Devon made a mental note to give Sarah a raise when she returned as she handed the woman 100 dollars in assorted bills from her wallet and left. The only thing that truly bothered Devon as she exited her secretary's apartment was the fact that Eliegh let Sarah pet him and purred.

"Damn," Devon muttered to herself as she drove down Main Street, "things changed." What Devon was referring to was the new abundance of things. David had mentioned to her that the town had increased its size in at least street numbers but what he failed to mention was its population too had grown by at least an hundred. She took note that there were still weren't any schools located in the town limits and that there weren't any street lights. Her dark SUV earned her stares but then if she walked into town she would have still gotten those stares. There were decayed remains of a rather large fallen tree across the street from the church parking lot. Devon went out of her way not to look at it.

"Devon?"

Devon turned around to see who had called her and was at a loss of words.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just been awhile hasn't it, Alison?" Devon said finally gathering her bearing; she extended a hand to her old best friend's little sister.

"Yeah, a big little while," Alison said grasping Devon's hand and giving it a firm shake, "So, how are you holding up? Sucks that this is what brings you back."

"Surprisingly well, I've gone through something like this before," Devon answered while walking next to Alison.

Alison turned slightly and searched Devon's face for any type of emotion before replying, "Yeah I guess we've all gone through our own share of hurt. Some a lot more than others."

Taking a look around to note that no one was in ear shot, "What's that suppose to mean, Alison?"

The look in Devon's eyes answered all the questions that Alison had so her response was simple, "Nothing, only that you look well. What type of car is that anyways?"

"It's a GMC Terrain."

"Expensive?"

"Not really.., it gets ok gas mileage and has four wheel drive. Gets the job done."

"What do you do? You know like your profession?" Alison asked curious.

"I'm a Private Investigator," Devon said smiling, "I find people who are lost."

Smiling at the irony in Devon's chosen profession, "Does is pay well?"

"Sometimes," Devon smiled in return, not unaware of the irony present, "I'm good at it so more often than not."

"How good is good?"

"I've never not found someone."

"Alive?" Alison asked opening the door to the church.

"Not all the time. But someone has to bring the dead home." And with that Devon stepped over the threshold.

People don't forget. That's the worst part about living in a small town. Everyone knows everything about you, even the things that you don't want to know, let alone anyone else.

"You're here." It was a statement and not a question.

"Yes I am," Devon said to her older brother, Dale.

"Nice of you to show up."

"I thought so too," Devon casually said to her oldest sibling Rachel.

"Why did you come here?" Dale asked sounded disgusted.

"One of you dumbasses decided that it would be a good idea to show Dad how to use the internet. And he actually hired a Private Investigator whose office a block down from mine," Devon said trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"We told him not to go..,"

Devon cut Rachel off, "Too bad for all of us that he didn't listen."

"Yeah, God forbid for you to be reminded of your family; your past."

"I try to keep bad memories in the past," Devon sneered into her older and taller sister's face, "Don't you?"

"Why don't all of you stop arguing at your mother's funeral?" David said walking up behind Dale and placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Dad's right, this isn't the time or the place," Dale said with a sad sigh, "Devon it's good to see you it has been too long. There's a going to be a get together at the house afterwards, I do hope that you will come. Dad mentioned that you don't plan on staying the night."

"I'm not."

"She's too good to sleep in the house that she grew up in," Rachel said to Dale while avoiding her father's eyes.

"That's enough, from all of you." David snapped glaring at his oldest child, like he never knew just how bitter she was.

All the Perry's found seats on the vacant bench in the front of the church. They were all quite surprised at the absence of whispers during the service about the fourth returning member of their family. And even more surprising was that fourth members quite steady tears. The church service was over soon enough and by the time the funeral precession made it across the street to the cemetery the first snowflakes of the season were just starting their long plunge to sweet hard ground. Devon watched her mother's coffin lower into the ground and felt everything that she held against her for not helping her that horrid day simply vanish into thin air. Devon wiped her face of the silent tears of relief she'd been crying for the past hour and smiled.

"Hey?" Alison said reaching out a hand, but letting it fall when Devon visibly jumped, "I was just going to ask if you're ok?"

"Sorry," Devon smiled putting on her sunglasses for the winter sun is harsh, "I'm not used to having people touch me anymore? You understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," Alison smiled, "Are you going to go back to your Dad's house? He's having a party of some sort. It should be fun right? We all know that you know how to throw one hell of a party. I guess it's time to see if you get it from your Dad or your Mom right?"

Devon smirked at that, "I got it from my Mom. Dad's always been a square."

They both laughed.

Surprising to Devon and just about everyone in the town the house hadn't gone to shame, it was kept rather well. The house seemed inviting to everyone as they pulled up the long driveway and then quickly made it to the doorway, the temperature had drastically dropped, and stepped into a warm inviting atmosphere. It had been too long since the house had housed company. It groaned, creaking its pleasure.

"The food was good who cooked?" Devon asked Dale and he handed her another dish to dry.

"Mrs. Potts and Mrs. Franks, maybe?"

"Well when you figure it out tell me so I can send a fruit basket or something," Devon said putting the dried dish into the cabinet.

"You know," Dale said in a suggesting tone, "Why don't you just stop by before you leave tomorrow?"

"You think that would just make up for the past seven years?" Rachel said walking into the room.

"You know Rache," Devon said rolling her shoulders and letting the reassuring weight of her shoulder rig calm her nerves, it had been hot as all hell wearing her blazer inside the house and now she was kind of cold without it, "I don't think that anyone was talking to you."

"Don't call me Rache, Devon, only family and close friends get to call me that."

"Both of you need to cool it, now," David demanded as leaning against the doorway behind Rachel , who then took a seat at the kitchen table putting her back to the wall and letting her see Devon and her father without really having to move her head.

"Dale, go upstairs and open your mother's side of the closet there's a lock box that I want you to bring down."

"Yes, sir."

Devon watched her brother jump at her father's commands and shook her head, "So do you purposefully treat him like shit or are you just doing this for my benefit?"

David's hands casually lowered themselves to his belt buckle, "You know your mouth was never this bad when you lived under my roof." His voice to anyone else would have sounded light, but Devon knew her father all too well, he angry really angry.

"Good thing you kicked me out then."

"This one?" Dale asked making sure he stayed out of his father's reach when he came past him in the room. Dale set the box on the kitchen table and leaned against the back door equally about 15 feet from everyone in the room

"Yes," David, now in a normal tone, "Rachel, now open it."

With shaking hands the lanky red head reached out a long arm and punched in a code, and to Devon's surprise the box's lid sprung up; Rachel pushed it open before snatching her back, "Dale what's inside?"

Dale walked over and looked in to the box, "Letters, one for all of us," Dale picked four letters out of the box then turn the box over for to show everyone that there was nothing else inside. He handed the appropriate letters to his father, Rachel and Devon. The room was silent as they all read their letters to themselves.

"Mine says that I need to get away, to leave the influence of others," Dale said looking perplexed.

"Mine says that no matter what I've done in my life she understood and never loved me any less," Rachel said ignoring the tear that slipped out of her eye.

Devon didn't say anything, couldn't rather, for it was taking all of her concentration not to pull the trigger of the pistol that was pointing at her father's head.

"Devon what the fuck?!" Dale shouted but stayed in his place when a second pistol cleared and was pointed in his direction.

Devon's envelope fell to the floor and out if it pictures. On the back of each of those pictures was a time a date. On the front of those pictures were her Mother, herself and sister, at various stages in their lives with cuts and bruises on different parts of their body. She kicked the envelope so its contents would scatter across the floor. "Lie to me and just tell me you didn't know Dale," Devon whispered not once taking her eyes off of her father who leaned against the doorway smiling.

Tears were rolling down Dale's face and all he did was slowly collapse onto the floor, "I didn't know what to do..," sounding like a lost child, "I tired stopping it once.., he came into my room that night..," Dale's sobs robbed him of his speech.

Sensing a small threat from her brother she still shifted the pistols so that both pistols were on the main target; David. "Rachel?" Devon asked, and when her sister didn't respond Devon risked it and quickly look at her. It was just a quick glance to make sure that Rachel was still breathing which she was but now she was starring too hard at the pictures on the floor. When Devon looked up her father had his belt in his hand and lightly smacking it against his palm. Shit.