Demon's Plaything (11 page)

“It didn’t seem to sink in.”

He pulled back farther, completely breaking their embrace. She looked up at him and saw a glinty sternness that she’d seen flashes of, but never to this degree. He was displeased, and not because she’d let him down, but because he cared for her, for her well-being. It made her want to wrap her arms around him again, but she resisted, instead opting to lean in and give him a peck on the lips that earned her a quick smile.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’d hate to waste your exuberance in a place like this.”

She considered for a millisecond and then smiled and nodded. “Last one to my house is a rotten egg,” she said and dashed toward her car.

A hand grabbing her wrist stilled her, and she whirled around, thinking it was Demon.

It wasn’t.

She recognized the guy from other nights, and in his eyes, she saw that shifty panic of a person in need.

“Sorry, but Ian said to find you. Somebody’s having a heart attack,” he said.

She looked around and spotted Demon, her eyes meeting his in silent communication. He seemed to understand and nodded at her, his face solemn. She nodded back and instinct took over, everything else fading into the background.

••••

Demon watched Shayla head toward the clinic, but he didn’t try to stop her. If someone was in trouble and she didn’t help, she’d never forgive herself. That kindness was what made her special, and again he was enraged that her own brother was using it against her. But that was almost over. He suspected Shayla might be pissed at his interference, but he didn’t care. If she was unwilling to take care of herself, then he had no problem doing it for her.

He stuck around but must have missed Shayla, because when he checked the parking lot, her car was gone. It was well after three in the morning, and he didn’t want to risk waking her, but he wanted to contact her somehow so he texted.

You home safe?

The reply was almost instant.

Demon? How did you get this number?

He laughed.

Told you I was motivated. You home?

Yeah. Sorry about earlier. I looked around but didn’t see you. There was a false alarm. Heart attack that turned out to be a panic attack. Somebody lost a lot of money tonight.

It’s okay. I know you couldn’t do anything else. And they always do.

He pondered his next line and then finally decided on mostly the truth.

Take care, Shayla.

He left off
I miss you
but thought she got the message.

See you soon?

Sleep well.

He waited a few minutes, but she didn’t respond. But he was okay with that. Better to let her rest while he untangled the web her brother had spun her into.

He looked down at his phone. One last call and the day would be complete.

Ian picked up after two rings, sounding sleepy and irritated. “This better be fucking important if you’re calling me at three twenty-six.”

“Such language. I could have been your grandmother.”

“Who the hell is this? And how the fuck did you get this number?” Ian yelled, sounding even more irritated. Good.

“It’s Demon, and don’t pretend you don’t know who I am. Meet me at the warehouse at two in the afternoon tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

He hung up without waiting for a response. He wanted to go back to Shayla, but resisted the pull. He’d finish this, and then they’d have all the time in the world.

••••

He’d gone home for a few hours of rest and spent the morning at the recycling facility. He wasn’t at all nervous about the meeting to come. Ian and guys like him would always do what was in their best interests, and Demon had made it his business to ensure that Ian’s best interests would finally be good for Shayla as well.

He drove to the warehouse, excited that Shayla would soon be out of this for once and for all. Much to his surprise, Ian was on time. Demon got out and leaned against his car as Ian pulled up; he was so ready to get this over with. Ian seemed to share the sentiment as he jumped out of the car quickly. He might have expected some popping off or other outward show of anger, but Ian was placid, his demeanor entirely untroubled. Shayla had said he was smooth, but this was pretty impressive. Too bad the guy was such a fuckup.

“So I’m here,” Ian said. “You planning to kill me or something?”

“Would you have come if you thought I was?”

Ian shrugged. “No, but it seemed like the right thing to say.” His eyes hardened, revealing the calculation that hid behind his suave exterior. “What do you want?”

“From you, nothing.”

“Oh, you want something from Shayla? Can’t help you with that, though you don’t seem to have had any trouble so far. My only advice is keep doing what you’re doing. She’s smart, but she has a soft heart, and if you get to it, you’re in. Anything else, or can I go?”

Smack!

The sound of Demon’s slap reverberated off Ian’s face before Demon was even fully aware that he’d reached out. Ian looked more offended than hurt, but he didn’t try to retaliate. Which was very disappointing. Demon would have welcomed the opportunity to kick his ass. He deserved that, more than that, for the way he treated his family, the way he’d talked about his sister. It was disgusting, really, that an asshole like Ian got people who loved him so much to put themselves at risk to protect his worthless ass.

But Demon needed to refocus. He’d have this problem taken care of soon enough.

“I don’t know if you got the message, but you’re out.”

Ian scoffed. “Fuck you. You don’t call shots around here.”

“I don’t, but I know the man who does, and you’re out. Everywhere. Permanently.”

Disbelief marred Ian’s features.

“What the fuck ever, man!”

“Believe me or don’t; that’s your call, but my
only advice
,” he said mockingly, “is that you take my word for it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ian said, having regained some of his composure.

“You will.”

Demon handed Ian an envelope.

“There’s nothing left for you here, so you’ll probably want a fresh start somewhere new. This should help you on your way.”

“Oh, and now you wanna run me out of town, too?”

“I’m just laying out your options. Stay if you want, but you’re unemployable in this city.”

“Well, you seem to forget I have family here, people who love me, who’ll do anything to help me.”

“Not anymore.”

Demon thought he saw the tiniest crack in Ian’s exterior, but he recovered quickly. “Thanks for the free money.”

He’d had enough Ian for one day and frankly couldn’t see why Shayla felt so compelled to help him. Then again, Ian wasn’t Demon’s family.

“Do what you want. But you’re out. And Shayla is too.” He said the last in a tone that brooked no argument.

And then he got into his car and left Ian standing in the sun.

Please
.

No
.

Please!
One last time!

No.

Please…

And on it went all during her shift two days later. Ian texting, begging for her help, her saying no, him begging even harder. There was a new message every time she had a spare minute to check her phone, and during that day’s sleepy shift, there were far too many spare minutes for her comfort.

Shayla was absolutely disgusted. For God’s sake, could he not even have the decency to pick up the phone to call and ask for her help? And what kind of moron sent text messages about a fucking illegal criminal enterprise!

Probably the same kind that responds to them, Shayla
, she thought.

And, in the spirit of being honest, she had to admit that Demon’s voice was again whispering in her brain, confirming what she already knew. The situation was untenable. She’d been able to help that woman last week, help the man through his panic attack, but there were no such assurances for the future. Things could get out of hand—more out of hand—in an instant. Someone could die. Add the fact the she could lose her license, go to prison, or God knew what else… She pressed her eyes closed tight to chase away the thought.

Even still, she had a hard time accepting what she knew she must do. She’d always had Nana, and, despite whatever trouble he brought, she’d always had Ian too, the three of them a little family. But that was dying, was probably already dead, in fact, its members falling one by one, Nana from time and disease, Ian from himself, Shayla from the stress of trying to keep it all together. She’d known it, her attempts at trying to lie to herself of little success. But she’d also known or could now at least acknowledge that it’d been gone a long time. She’d tried so hard to hold onto Ian, to that boy she’d loved so much, that she’d ignored the man he had become.

The stab at her heart at the thought proved that the pain of her realization hadn’t faded, likely wouldn’t for a long time, but that was no matter. She’d heal. Eventually. And in the meantime, she had to regain control of her life.

Resolve stiffened her spine. She’d do this one last time, and then she was done for good.

••••

The rest of the day passed in a strange mix of slow and fast. Each moment felt excruciating and slow, but at the end of the day it was as if the hours had passed in an instant. Just another sign that she was making the right choice.

She headed to the warehouse straight from the hospital without stopping home to change, unwilling to put this off for another moment and anxious for this day to be over. She was
surprised
to discover the parking lot was mostly full. She supposed the crowd couldn’t wait to get their fix. A thought of the picture she presented in her scrubs and clogs—she’d ditched the white coat—idly floated through her mind before she dismissed it. She’d seen full formal attire down to shorts and flip-flops and everything in between, so she doubted her outfit would even garner a second glance. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel conspicuous, like people would stare, like maybe she’d see someone she knew. Nana would say it was a guilty conscience, though whether for ditching Ian or for being involved at all, she couldn’t decide. Trying to shake off the feeling, she parked and walked toward the back entrance. If she saw someone she knew, they’d have as much to explain as her, so she couldn’t let that be a concern, not when the finish line was in sight.

As she reached out to open the door, a hand clamped on her shoulder, and she screeched, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. She looked up and recognized one of the burly, sour-faced guys who patrolled the crowd and escorted unruly patrons elsewhere. She hadn’t caught his name and didn’t intend on asking for it now.

“Fuck! You scared the crap out of me, dude!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, though his gruff tone didn’t corroborate his statement. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises. And please don’t return.”

“What?”

“I’m going to have to ask—”

“Yeah, I got that. I guess the question is, why? And says who?”

“I don’t know anything else, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”

The pounding of her heart morphed from fear to anger in the space of a single beat.

“Is Ian in there?”

She looked back at the door and shook his hand off her shoulder.

He didn’t touch her again, but the hard look in his eye told her he’d said all he was going to. She was at a loss. The apparent ban was no big problem, but the source concerned her. And if Ian was in trouble…

Dammit, Shayla!

That kind of thinking had gotten her into this mess in the first place, but still, she couldn’t just leave without knowing he was okay. Her gaze drifted from the security guard to the door and back. Maybe she could outrun him…

“Shay?”

Ian’s call grabbed her attention, and a final look at the security guard, face still sour but impassive, his bulk seeming to loom larger the longer she stood, proved the futility of that plan.

“What the fuck did you do, Shayla?”

Her eyes widened at the onslaught and at the rage marring Ian’s face, making his features tight and distorted and blocking all trace of her charismatic brother.

“I didn’t do anything.” The defense was automatic. She’d been unprepared for this attack.

“Then what did you get your little boyfriend to do?”

“Ian, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m here as you asked. But I’m done. But we can talk about that later. What’s going on?”

“I had a good thing going here, Shayla, and you fucked it up.”

“She didn’t fuck up anything.”

At the sound of Demon’s voice, she looked back at the doorway where he stood, his large frame taking up most of the space. Her heart leaped yet again, this time from the lightning strike of relief and arousal that hit her. Even now, in a warehouse parking lot seemingly on the verge of all hell breaking loose, she yearned for him, spirit and body.