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The Devil

Page 5

by Ashley Jade


  AngelBaby123: Wow, you don’t miss a thing.

  Devil: Want me to kick his ass?

  AngelBaby123: What I want is for you to stop hurting me.

  Devil: I don’t mean to.

  AngelBaby123: And yet you keep doing it.

  Devil: I didn’t want to ignore you. I had some things to take care of.

  AngelBaby123: This isn’t about ignoring me. This is about what happened tonight.

  Devil: Tell me what hurt you the most so I can kiss it better.

  AngelBaby123: You can’t this time. I’m not some little kid with a scraped knee.

  I’m a girl with a permanent broken heart. Because I’m in love with a man I can never have.

  Devil: I can if you let me. Give me your pain, Eden. Make me feel it so you don’t have to anymore.

  Devil: I promise it won’t hurt so much once you do.

  I wipe the tears dripping down my face with the back of my hand. This Cain always knows the right words to say.

  But neither Cain knows how to prove it.

  AngelBaby123: Don’t say things you don’t mean. And don’t make promises you’ll never keep.

  AngelBaby123: And don’t tell me to give you my pain because unlike you, I would never hurt the person I love.

  Devil: I don’t mean to hurt you.

  AngelBaby123: Then why do you?

  Devil: Because it’s easier to hurt the person you love when they’re not the person you should love. It’s easier to push them away because your life would be so much better if you did.

  AngelBaby123: Then why do you keep pulling me back?

  Keep giving me hope.

  Devil: Because I’m sick and selfish. I should let you go, but I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you because I don’t want anyone else to have you. This thing between us is terrifying. It’s ruining me.

  AngelBaby123: So that makes it okay to ruin me?

  The bottom of my screen says he’s typing, but then it goes blank. Like he erased everything he wanted to say.

  AngelBaby123: I guess I have my answer. Have a nice night, Mayor.

  Devil: Don’t hate me. I was only doing what I thought was right. The next two weeks will be the hardest of my life. So if I’m acting like an asshole to you, and I obviously am, it’s only because I’m scared about the future.

  I’m scared about the future too.

  AngelBaby123: I’m tired. I’m gonna go back to sleep.

  Devil: I don’t want you going to bed upset with me. Can we start over?

  AngelBaby123: How can we start over when we never began?

  Devil: Don’t give up on us. Let me make this right.

  AngelBaby123: How?

  Devil: I’m sending you a surprise soon.

  AngelBaby123: What kind of surprise?

  Devil: I’m giving you everything you ever wanted. All you have to do is take it.

  AngelBaby123: What? How?

  His username turns gray.

  Chapter 8

  Cain

  “Can you check on Eden for me? She still hasn’t come downstairs.”

  Claudia raises one gray eyebrow. “I told you ten minutes ago that Eden said she wasn’t feeling well.”

  “You did?” I look down at the paperwork on my desk. “Sorry, it’s been one of those mornings.”

  “I imagine it has. Tonight’s the big night.”

  When I stare at her blankly, she sighs and says, “The ball.”

  “Oh, right.”

  She looks in the direction of the staircase. “Poor thing is sick on her birthday.”

  Guilt settles over me. Eden’s not sick…not physically anyway.

  “Make sure someone checks on her while I’m gone for the day.”

  I don’t want to ruin Eden’s birthday by forcing her to see me…but I don’t want her to be alone either.

  Claudia glowers. “You don’t have anything on the schedule other than the ball.”

  Claudia’s advanced age works in her favor because if it was anyone else questioning my whereabouts, they’d be tossed from my office without so much as a severance check.

  “I’m having lunch with Milton Bexley…and his daughter.”

  “Hmm.”

  I grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair and put it on. “Hmm? What’s hmm?”

  “Does Eden know yet?”

  “Know what yet?”

  “That you’re dating Margaret Bexley?”

  Claudia’s more perceptive than I give her credit for. “Keep your voice down.” I look around to make sure Eden isn’t eavesdropping on our conversation. It wouldn’t be the first time. “I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet.”

  That’s wrong, I’ve had plenty of chances to tell her over the last month…I just haven’t.

  I shoot Claudia a warning look. “I trust you’ll keep this to yourself?”

  “My gossiping days are long gone. Besides, it’s better Eden hears this from you.”

  “I’ll tell her when the time is right.” I swipe my wallet and keys off the desk. “Did you order her present like I asked you to?”

  She nods. “Should be delivered shortly.”

  “Perfect.” I go to walk out, but my ears tune in to what’s happening on the television.

  “A young woman by the name of Jodie Gale is missing,” the reporter says. “Her stepmother, Katrina Owens reports she was supposed to return home yesterday evening after work but never did. Our sources say Jodie’s a junior gossip columnist at the Independent Chronicle.”

  I freeze when a photo of the young woman appears on the screen. “Fuck.”

  “Authorities are asking anyone who may have any information to contact them.”

  “Isn’t she the reporter you threw out yesterday?” Claudia questions.

  I glare at her. “No, she’s the reporter I baked cookies for right before we roasted marshmallows and recited a few of our favorite Bible passages.”

  She opens her mouth, but I jam my finger into the wood of the desk. “Fix this shit, Claudia. Or enjoy living solely off your social security checks.”

  I’m out the door before she can argue.

  Chapter 9

  Cain

  Past…

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but someone had to,” my friend and sometimes rival in debate tells me. “I’d want to know if it were me.”

  I nod slowly, afraid to do more than that for fear it will only make the situation worse.

  It’s one thing to find out your girlfriend of a year and a half is cheating on you with the biggest asshole in school. It’s another to have a mental breakdown in front of the entire student body over it.

  Judging by the way everyone in the cafeteria is currently eyeballing me…I’m the last to know. Awesome.

  I slap Corey’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. Appreciate the heads up.”

  I keep my expression neutral as I wade through the cafeteria.

  I’m not sure whether to confront her now or later. Later, I decide. Not only do I not know where she is, but I have no desire to catch her in the act.

  “Wait,” Corey yells and I stop walking.

  “They’re in the shed near the shop room,” he informs me, louder than he needs to.

  Make that now.

  I’m sure a small part of him is enjoying this. He asked Katrina Owens—the cheater—to go to homecoming at the start of our junior year, but she turned him down and went with me instead.

  We’ve been together ever since.

  Until she started fucking Damien King behind my back.

  It would almost be comical if it wasn’t happening to me.

  The two of us couldn’t be more different from one another. So different I don’t know much about him and I’m sure he can say the same about me.

  What I do know about him isn’t good, though. He doesn’t run with a bad crowd…he is the bad crowd. His mother isn’t in the picture—not sure why—but he lives with his father who’s loaded. Not that being w
ell off is an anomaly in this town, but his father is a callous businessman and most people in Black Hallows hate him. With good reason.

  For instance—a few years back, our town was hit with a bad storm and a beloved ice cream shop was severely damaged. The owner, Mr. Manning—a nice man in his eighties didn’t have the money to fix it. Naturally, the community came together and organized a huge fundraiser to help. However, a few days before it was supposed to take place, Mr. King stepped in and handed Mr. Manning a check. The old man was so grateful, he must not have realized what the paperwork he signed entailed.

  A week later, Damien’s father had it bulldozed to the ground and turned it into a gym.

  To this day the man has never stepped foot inside of it. He just did it to piss everyone off.

  And the apple doesn’t fall far because most can say the same about Damien.

  He pisses a lot of people off.

  Like me. Right now.

  Because I’m watching him nail my girlfriend against a wall in a shed.

  I should probably stop them, but for some reason, all I can think about is how Katrina and I lost our virginities to each other ten months ago.

  It would have been sooner if it were up to me, but Katrina said she wanted to wait. She claimed she was a good girl and wanted to make sure I was serious about her before we took it to the next level.

  She doesn’t look like such a good girl right now though.

  Her legs are wrapped around his waist. Her fake nails are digging into his back. And brazen moans are spewing from her whore mouth while he fucks her so hard the shed vibrates.

  No, she’s not a good girl. Or rather…she was never this much of a good girl for me.

  “Oh my God,” Katrina squeals when she notices me.

  Leaning against an oversized tool chest, I give her a tight smile. “Having fun?”

  “Cain, I’m so—” She slaps Damien’s shoulder. “Stop. My boyfriend’s here.”

  “Hold on,” Damien barks, his thrusts picking up speed. “You can have her back in a minute, bro. Just need to bust this nut first.”

  I stuff my hands in my pockets. “It’s cool, bro. Take your time.”

  Take your time busting a nut inside my girlfriend while I stand here.

  Katrina’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m so…” Her voice trails off and her breathing accelerates.

  I assume it’s because she’s so overcome with emotion and remorse for what she did.

  That is until her head lolls back and she moans loud enough to wake the dead. “Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I look down at where their bodies are joined…where Damien’s hand is strumming her cunt like a banjo.

  Evidently, fucking my girlfriend in front of me isn’t good enough for him. He needs to pour salt in the wound by making sure I witness him getting her off in front of me too.

  I grind my molars. The asshole is intentionally provoking me.

  And it’s working because my composure’s akin to a rubber band about to snap.

  Never let them see you sweat. My father’s words of wisdom echo through the walls of my skull. The key to surviving any scandal is to act like there isn’t one.

  And let’s not forget his latest. Katrina seems a little slutty, son. Your future wife should be your accessory, not everyone else’s.

  Turns out my father was right. I’m sure he’ll love hearing me admit it when I go home.

  “Finished yet?” I bite out through clenched teeth.

  Thrust. “Just.” Thrust. “One.” Thrust. “Fuck. There we go.” He shudders. “Yeah, baby, squeeze your snatch around me and milk it.”

  I want to kill him.

  I watch in disgust as they disassemble themselves and put their clothes back on. Well, Katrina does.

  The fucker barely puts his dick away before he’s reaching for his cigarettes.

  How any chick in their right mind would choose him over me is anyone’s guess. Despite his bank account having more money than my own will ever see, he looks like trash. I’m not being facetious either. The dude actually looks like he smells bad. Then again, everything smells bad currently since I’m inhaling the musky scent of their post-coital bliss.

  Narrowing my eyes, I continue my appraisal. His dark hair is cropped close, but thanks to the view I was afforded during the show, I know there are a few designs shaved into the back of his scalp.

  As if that’s not weird enough, smack center in the middle of his neck is a huge skull tattoo with flames expanding across his throat. His arms are also covered in a few skulls, along with a few profound statements like ‘Trust No One.’

  His body might be a little better than mine, I suppose. If you’re into that sort of thing. We’re both over six feet, but I’m lean and toned thanks to my years of running track. And he’s…I guess someone’s getting use out of the gym his father built after all.

  I definitely have him beat in the facial area, though. Unlike him, I’m well-groomed and clean-cut. Unfortunately, the constant stubble on his face does little to dull his intense features. Downright creepy features if I’m being honest. Especially those icy blue eyes of his that chicks fawn over. They don’t even look real. Fucker probably wears contacts.

  Those unusual eyes aren’t his most disturbing feature, though. It’s what goes on behind them. The look he gives you. It’s downright menacing. Almost like Satan himself is using him as a host to steal your soul.

  Hell, maybe Katrina’s not a two-timing tramp after all and this is the devil’s work.

  Or maybe, I need to stop procrastinating and kick her ass to the curb already.

  Goddammit, this sucks. Despite my father’s reservations, Katrina fit into my life perfectly. She knew my aspirations, knew what was expected of her, and cheating whore aside, would have been a good wife.

  Her uncle is a congressman, so politics aren’t a foreign concept to her or her family. Her parents aren’t rich, but they are hardworking people. Something that would have made people support her, and in turn, support me. She came from good stock.

  Not to mention—people enjoy a high school sweethearts love story when it comes to their politicians.

  But there’s no way I can stay with her given everyone knows she cheated on me with Damien King of all people.

  She ruined everything. And now that the dust is starting to settle…it hurts. Losing her is like losing a block of wood you took the time to personally carve out in order to fit the part of your puzzle that needed to be filled.

  A year and a half down the drain. Just like that.

  God, I hate wasting my time. Especially when chances are she’s just going to end up with some other aspiring politician who will profit from all the hard work I put into her.

  “I’m so sorry, Cain,” Katrina says, bringing me out of my thoughts.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Me too.”

  Her gaze darts around the room, looking everywhere else but at me. “It’s just…you’re always so busy all the time, and Damien—”

  “Does nothing but fuck and smoke weed all day.”

  She blinks. “Well, yeah.” She looks at him. “No offense.”

  He lights his cigarette. “None taken.”

  “It’s just…I don’t know. Everything between us seemed like it was on autopilot lately,” Katrina continues. “We barely see one another because you’re always so busy with student council and the debate team. And whenever we do hang out, it’s always the same thing. We go to Fatty’s, meet up with your friends, and then screw for five minutes in the back of your car until you drop me off at home.”

  Damien snorts.

  I narrow my eyes at him before addressing Katrina. “First of all, it’s not five minutes. It’s never five minutes. Secondly, if you wanted to switch things up with our routine, you should have opened your mouth and said something.”

  “I did.” Mascara streaks line her cheeks. “I told you last week and you ignored me.”

  “Last week I was fil
ling out college applications. I was a little distracted.”

  Especially since my brother already found out he was accepted to Harvard. He’s not only six minutes older than me, he also surpasses me on nearly everything that matters. Grades, sports, politics, looks…our father’s approval.

  She jerks her chin at Damien who’s watching our exchange with a humorous expression on his face. “Well, that makes two of us.” She buttons her cardigan. “I’m sorry, Cain but—”

  “Wait,” I interject because there’s no way in hell I’m letting her fuck him in front of me and then turn right around and break up with me. People might be eavesdropping outside, and I won’t let her make me look like a chump. “You’ve been fucking him since last week?”

  She nods. He shrugs.

  “We had sex yesterday,” I remind her.

  Damien looks unfazed by this information.

  Katrina, however, looks guilty. “I’m—”

  It’s all I need.

  “I don’t want to hear your apology, Katrina.” I roar loud enough she jumps. “Get the hell out of my face, you lying, cheating slut.”

  Her mouth drops open and she looks at Damien to defend her honor.

  I tense, preparing for a fight. I don’t want one, but it’s pretty much unavoidable at this point thanks to my outburst.

  To my surprise and bemusement, Damien remains silent as he takes another drag off his cigarette, appearing undeniably lackadaisical.

  “All right, it’s settled then. We’re over.” Straightening her spine, Katrina bats her eyelashes at Damien. “Call me later?”

  Damien stares at her blankly. “I thought we were over?”

  She looks about as confused as I feel. “Me and Cain are over, silly. Not us.”

  Damien looks positively disturbed. “I don’t do girlfriends.”

  “Of course not,” Katrina coos. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a week. It’s too soon for that kind of talk.”

  “Fucking,” Damien corrects. “I fucked you twice in the same week.” He takes another long drag off his cigarette. “And only because I thought you already had a boyfriend and therefore not looking for one.”

 

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