Sympathy for the Devil
Author's Note: I'd like to thank Red Molly for Beta Reading this story.
Warning: I'm going to tell ya right now, it's going to get a bit graphic in this story. It'll include the F Bomb a few times, some mild Racial Issues, and an insight into the mind of a man named Devil.
Summery: Devil remembers. AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Devil hung up his leather coat and plopped down on his patch-work couch. The old trailer wasn't much, but it was his. Gave him a place to live and time to think. Gave him time to remember.
Him, Arlo, Johnny, Rip, Jimmy, and Boyd had killed Quarles today. Killed that motherfucker 'til he was Dead, Dead. Then they'd robbed the place of everything it had. Made them all a lot of money. A shitload of money. Plus, Boyd always had loved making money and blowing shit up. Least they'd made sure it wouldn't be traced back to them.
Plus, they got Wynn Duffy on their side.
Popping a top and sitting back down, he pet his cat. No. It was HER cat. The thing was about 12 years old now. Gotten it back in her final year, 1999, when it was just a kitten.
He was more of a dog person himself. But he'd never be able to throw it out. Never.
Pulling out his wallet, he took out a picture. Day it was taken had been 3 days before that mother-fucking bastard did what he did. Taken the first good woman he'd ever loved. Taken HIS fiancé.
That fucker had been dead before sunset the day he sealed his fate. Him, a few members of the AB, and KKK had hunted him down. Things he'd done to that man before he'd been lynched had earned him his title of 'Devil'. Man might've been a fellow AB member, but that'd ended as soon as he killed a white woman.
The picture was of him, and a stunning blonde, 'bout 3 years younger than him at the time. When the photo had been taken, they'd been celebrating. Celebrating her beating 5 years of cancer. The reason he'd gotten a black ribbon tattooed on his neck.
It'd been hard. But they'd made it through it.
Reaching down his shirt, 'cross his heart, his hand grazed over her name. Not a day went by he didn't think about her. Not one.
He didn't cry much. Only been a few times when he had. As tears formed in his eyes, he said, "Miss ya, Amy. Miss ya everyday."
She was what gave him the strength to go on. Was why his Welsh Pride and those 5 years adorned his war vest.
Door opened and Rachael walked in. She asked, "You alright?"
Looking up quickly, he said, "I'm fine Rae. How was work?"
Getting a beer from the fridge, she plopped down by him and said, "It was fine, Dex."
She might've been a black woman, but she was his black woman. Only black he'd ever felt affection for. Hell, only black he'd ever liked.
Rachael looked at him and said, "I know you loved her Dex. I am sorry about what happened to her."
He kissed her softly and said, "I know. Thank you, Rae."
Snuggling up against his body, she kissed him back before falling asleep.