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Authors: Shyla Colt
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creative control. We’re not looking to control you or clip your wings. We just want to make us both some money and have access to your numbers to make everything add up.”
I roll the deal over in my mind. It’s fair. They stand to lose more than me if they back me and I bomb. “For how long?” I ask.
“A year, then we’ll revisit things.”
“Done.”
“Like that?” Demon asks.
“What other choice is there? I could’ve died the other night,” I whisper.
“But you didn’t. You’re a lot tougher than you look. You saved my brother. I owe you for that,” he says.
I want to believe him, but words mean shit—it’s all about actions. “What happens next?” I ask.
“Tomorrow we’ll make shit official. In the meantime, you’ll stick to the Slayer and get him back to fighting shape. Anything you need you ask for, and we’ll provide it.”
“Where will I stay?” I ask. The thought of being separated from Arsen agitates me.
“With him. I’ll have a prospect bring in a cot.”
“Okay,” I say, suddenly exhausted.
“How are those ribs feeling?” Demon asks.
“Like they were bruised.”
He laughs. “Might want to watch that mouth. People around here don’t like being disrespected, especially not Slayer.”
“Trust me, he likes my mouth just the way it is.” I cover my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Demon laughs. “Fuck, you’re right about that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Duff, he’s going to be your prospect.” Just like that I’m welcomed into their fold and given a task. It’s more than I’ve had since Billie died. I soak it up like a sponge. At least for a time, I have a place to belong and support. I listen to Demon rattle off rules in a haze. In this foreign place, I’ve found solace.
Informed, and feeling tired, I’m dropped back off at the room. I walk inside and find Arsen asleep. His mouth is open and quiet snores spill from his cupid’s bow lips. I can’t help but smile. He looks so much lighter in sleep. I should be receiving a cot soon, but my eyes are drooping. I slip off my shoes and ease into the bed, hugging the edge of it. The soft mattress and the heat pouring from Arsen’s body lull me to sleep.
I wake up with a start. The room is pitch black. My heart is pounding, and it takes a minute to acclimate.
“You okay, K?” a deep voice asks.
“Huh?”
“You back here with me?” he asks again.
“Y-yeah.” I sit up and whimper as my ribs protest.
“No one is going to hurt you here.”
I remain silent. He can’t promise that. No one can.
“You want to know how I know that?”
“How?” I ask, moistening my lips.
“Reach onto the nightstand beside you.”
I reach out and feel the cool metal.
“That’s a 9 millimeter. My .45 is beside me. Anyone comes in here has a death wish. You can’t control what happens, but you can be prepared.”
The steel is comforting. It’s real, and solid. I grip it and allow it to calm me.
“You understand? That’s power you’re holding right there. Power to defend yourself and take a life is necessary. This is your last line of defense. Because just outside this door is an army of men who’d lay their life down for either of us.”
His words and the 9 millimeter calm me. I vaguely wonder if I’m on my way to becoming a sociopath. Does it matter if it gets me through? I place the gun down and rest my head back on the pillow.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.”
“Come here,” his husky voice commands.
I slowly move my body to his. He wraps a strong arm around me and I run my hands over his arm, imagining the tattoos that cover it. He buries his face in my neck. “We’re going to get through his together, girl.”
“Why?” I whisper.
A moment passes, and I wonder if he’ll tell me. “’Cause whether you like it or not, you’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”
I close my eyes. I’m a responsibility. “I’ll pull my weight.”
He tightens his arm and winces. “Not what I
I roll the deal over in my mind. It’s fair. They stand to lose more than me if they back me and I bomb. “For how long?” I ask.
“A year, then we’ll revisit things.”
“Done.”
“Like that?” Demon asks.
“What other choice is there? I could’ve died the other night,” I whisper.
“But you didn’t. You’re a lot tougher than you look. You saved my brother. I owe you for that,” he says.
I want to believe him, but words mean shit—it’s all about actions. “What happens next?” I ask.
“Tomorrow we’ll make shit official. In the meantime, you’ll stick to the Slayer and get him back to fighting shape. Anything you need you ask for, and we’ll provide it.”
“Where will I stay?” I ask. The thought of being separated from Arsen agitates me.
“With him. I’ll have a prospect bring in a cot.”
“Okay,” I say, suddenly exhausted.
“How are those ribs feeling?” Demon asks.
“Like they were bruised.”
He laughs. “Might want to watch that mouth. People around here don’t like being disrespected, especially not Slayer.”
“Trust me, he likes my mouth just the way it is.” I cover my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Demon laughs. “Fuck, you’re right about that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Duff, he’s going to be your prospect.” Just like that I’m welcomed into their fold and given a task. It’s more than I’ve had since Billie died. I soak it up like a sponge. At least for a time, I have a place to belong and support. I listen to Demon rattle off rules in a haze. In this foreign place, I’ve found solace.
Informed, and feeling tired, I’m dropped back off at the room. I walk inside and find Arsen asleep. His mouth is open and quiet snores spill from his cupid’s bow lips. I can’t help but smile. He looks so much lighter in sleep. I should be receiving a cot soon, but my eyes are drooping. I slip off my shoes and ease into the bed, hugging the edge of it. The soft mattress and the heat pouring from Arsen’s body lull me to sleep.
I wake up with a start. The room is pitch black. My heart is pounding, and it takes a minute to acclimate.
“You okay, K?” a deep voice asks.
“Huh?”
“You back here with me?” he asks again.
“Y-yeah.” I sit up and whimper as my ribs protest.
“No one is going to hurt you here.”
I remain silent. He can’t promise that. No one can.
“You want to know how I know that?”
“How?” I ask, moistening my lips.
“Reach onto the nightstand beside you.”
I reach out and feel the cool metal.
“That’s a 9 millimeter. My .45 is beside me. Anyone comes in here has a death wish. You can’t control what happens, but you can be prepared.”
The steel is comforting. It’s real, and solid. I grip it and allow it to calm me.
“You understand? That’s power you’re holding right there. Power to defend yourself and take a life is necessary. This is your last line of defense. Because just outside this door is an army of men who’d lay their life down for either of us.”
His words and the 9 millimeter calm me. I vaguely wonder if I’m on my way to becoming a sociopath. Does it matter if it gets me through? I place the gun down and rest my head back on the pillow.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.”
“Come here,” his husky voice commands.
I slowly move my body to his. He wraps a strong arm around me and I run my hands over his arm, imagining the tattoos that cover it. He buries his face in my neck. “We’re going to get through his together, girl.”
“Why?” I whisper.
A moment passes, and I wonder if he’ll tell me. “’Cause whether you like it or not, you’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”
I close my eyes. I’m a responsibility. “I’ll pull my weight.”
He tightens his arm and winces. “Not what I
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