Lucifer's Game

by Rachael Tamayo

  All the way here, I practiced a speech. Something heartfelt that might make her understand that I’m not the cold hearted asshole she seems to think I was the day I walked out the door on her. As I stare down into her expectant, almost fearful brown eyes, I forget everything that I planned to say.

  Her beauty has had this effect on me more than once. Funny, it’s just at this moment that I realize that I never told her about it.

  “Cora….” I breathe her name and stop myself from reaching for her.

  “Andrew, I’m on my way out,” her tone is exasperated. She turns and locks the door.

  “Where are you going? Can we have dinner?”

  Cora pushes past me; I follow her down the stairs. “Sorry, not tonight.”

  “Is it him?”

  She flushes, the palest of pinks. It gives me my answer. I swallow nauseating anger and keep my eyes on her face, struggling not to imagine this man touching her.

  “Don’t do this, Andrew.”

  “I have to know. Who is he?” I clench my fist at my sides as she clicks her key fob. The lights flash on her Chevy. “Don’t go.”

  She tries to get in the car, but I grab her.

  “Wait, just tell me. I need to know who he is to you. Do you…” The words gag me. “…Do you care about him?”

  Pain sets in her eyes, flashing like lightning. “Andrew, please just let it go. I don’t love him or anything, if that’s what you want to know.” She shakes me off. “Now let me go, please.” Her ‘please’ is pleading and soft.

  “Cora, this isn’t like you. You don’t do stuff like this… what’s happening?”

  God I must sound so pathetic. She gets in the car, but I stop her from shutting the door by grabbing it and holding it open.

  “You made this choice, it is what it is. Let go.” She pulls on the door.

  “What about what you wanted? You were on my ass to talk to you about everything, about wanting a baby and starting a family and being there for you. So here I am, let’s talk.”

  She shakes her head, looking away as if holding my gaze is too painful. Or maybe just too sickening.

  “Andrew, it’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? Let go of the door.”

  I let go of the door, even though I’d rather pull her out of the car, drag her back inside, and remind her of what we once were. She slams the door in my face, and I can’t do anything but watch her pull out of the driveway and speed out of sight.

  The rage hits me afterwards. If I scream like I want to, the neighbors will call the cops on me.

  Instead, I fish my keys out of my pocket. I’m going to be here waiting when she gets home.

  ***

  Cora

  What am I doing? All this is, is sex. Nothing more. I speed down the road towards Devin’s apartment with a racing and confused heart, and core already aching for him.

  I’ve never seen Andy look at me like that before. As if he had been gutted, and I was holding the blade.

  I feel about two inches tall.

  Of course, it’s easy enough to reason it all out in my own mind and walk away leaving him gaping in my driveway.

  As much as it hurt, honestly, it felt a bit warming to put him on the other side of it all for once. Leaving him there helpless, not knowing what to do, and without control over the situation. It felt good to give him a taste of his own medicine.

  I pull into the parking lot of Devin’s luxury apartment building and type in the gate code he provided. It opens as if this is where I belong. My heart flutters as I pull in, but somehow it’s just not as exhilarating as it has been every other time this week.

  Seeing Andrew does this to me.

  I park in a double garage, check my hair and makeup one last time.

  As my finger presses the doorbell on his first floor apartment, the door flies open in my face and I’m surprised to see Xander, not Devin.

  “Come on in, woman.” He smiles at me.

  I glance around and see Devin coming from the bedroom wearing gray sweat pants and a tee shirt. He can even rock the sloppy look, it’s amazing. His hair is pulled back this time, normally it hangs loose, which I love. But this gives him a bit of a clean cut vibe that makes me ache in forbidden places as he smiles seductively at me, casting that blue gaze my way.

  I’m caught in his arms, taken in a kiss. His hand drifts down my body heading for that place between my thighs. I laugh, jumping away.

  “Hey, Xander is right there, crazy!”

  Xander falls heavily on the couch.

  “Yeah, he would screw you in front of me if you’d let him, he doesn’t care. I’m sure he’s dialed down the kink for you. Don’t want to scare her do you?” He laughs.

  Devin grins at him. “That’s a fact.”

  What’s that even mean? I stand stupidly, staring between the two of them. Am I not enough for him?

  As if he knows my thoughts, he grabs me around the waist.

  “Don’t worry, just because I’m a freak doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying this. It’s amazing.” He grins, bending to taste my lips.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks. I guess he felt something off.

  I pull away and sit heavily in a leather recliner. “Andrew caught me leaving. He was asking me questions. I just feel guilty I guess.”

  “Guilt is a falsely generated emotion.” Xander cocks his head. “I mean, think about it like this. If no one was telling you what you shouldn’t be doing, you wouldn’t have guilt. It’s not like love or sex or hunger. It’s there because someone told you that it should be.”

  “You think so?”

  He nods slowly, his bright, green eyes penetrating. “I don’t feel guilty for things. I’d dare to venture Devin doesn’t either. It’s not real.”

  “I guess I can see where you are coming from with this, but what about people’s feelings? Hurting someone?”

  “What about it? Not everything we do has to be about someone else. Something’s are just for you, and what others think be damned. I mean, think about it. Did Andrew think about you when he left? He just needed to do what he needed to do, and he did it. When you two… well, you and Devin are doing what you need to do at the moment. Maybe you need the attention, maybe just need something different, or just to have fun with no worries about real life drama that comes with a relationship. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  I take in a slow, deep breath. Devin sits on the arm of my chair and runs a hand through my hair, sending a chill down my back.

  “I don’t know. I don’t like making him hurt, even though he hurt me. I’m not saying I want this to stop,” I pause and look up at Devin. “But it’s difficult.”

  When I’m honest with myself, the thought of never seeing Devin again leaves me feeling cold.

  “Are you spending the night?” he asks, playing with my hair.

  “I don’t know. I work in the morning.”

  He shifts, ending up with me in his lap. He looks into my face, cupping my chin.

  “Stay with me. I don’t want you to go home. I’ll make sure you have what you need.”

  I take in a breath, watching his full lips.

  “I guess I could.”

  “I’ll see you two later.” Xander squeezes my shoulder as he passes by me on his way out the door.

  ***

  I wake up in blackness. Surrounded by a swirl of silk sheets against my naked flesh, I sit up and reach blindly for my phone.

  Three in the morning.

  Devin sleeps soundly beside me. This time he was gentle, his touch was slow, sweet, lingering in all the right places. Almost healing.

  Andrew crosses my mind.

  I can picture him sleeping on his cousin, Eric’s, couch, probably cursing my name by now.

  I deserve it.

  I haven’t even thought about babies in days. What’s that mean? I lost my husband over this, and now it seems I’ve forgotten it and I’m mourning my lost husband while in bed with another man.

  What have I become?<
br />
  I fall back onto a soft pillow with a yawn, reaching out, and touching the hot skin on Devin’s back.

  What has this stranger done to me? This just isn’t who I am. But then, look at where being who I was got me. Depressed, separated, alone, childless.

  Maybe this new ‘me’ isn’t so bad.

  I check my phone again. This time I see the missed text message.

  “Are you okay? Why aren’t you home?”

  The text was sent an hour ago. How does he know I’m not home?

  I’m okay. How do you know I’m not home?

  I set the phone down and roll onto my side, the phone buzzes.

  “I’ve been here waiting for you. I can’t sleep.”

  Why are you there waiting for me?

  “I’ll give you one guess.”

  He’s at home waiting for me. He’s only there because he doesn’t want someone else to have me. If he wanted me, truly, he would have paid attention to me before this. I glance at Devin.

  You’re just jealous, you don’t really want me. You stopped wanting me before you even left.

  “That’s bullshit. I wanted you. you are the one that stopped wanting me.”

  Tears burn my eyes and nose. He can’t really think I didn’t want him. And how am I having this conversation while lying naked in another man’s bed?

  We can talk about this later.

  My phone rings in my hand. Devin doesn’t move. Without thinking I hit ignore and shut it off.

  He’s waiting for me at home. It echoes over and over in my head. Should I leave? I’m not choosing Devin over Andrew, not really.

  Am I?

  Chapter Eight

  Devin

  His low hiss in my ear wakes me with a start. I open my eyes to find Xander crouched by my bed. His eyes tell me he’s mad.

  I immediately cloak myself and glance around, Cora’s not in the room.

  “Wake up. She’s thinking about him, about going home.”

  Sitting up, I grab my sweatpants and cover my nakedness. Not because I’m shy, but because it’s cold in here.

  “Her husband is at home waiting for her to come back. He’s been texting her all night, and trying to call her.”

  An old, familiar feeling starts to build in my gut. I can’t let her leave. Not because of this assignment, but because of me. I want her.

  I hate it when this happens, this attachment. I glance at the door, running a hand over my face. This is why I prefer to work from a distance.

  A touch on a man’s shoulder giving him a wandering eye and a taste for blondes when his wife is a redhead. A whisper in the ear of a woman, giving her a hunger for a different man every night. A word, generating a lecherous eye for the very young, and so forth. The possibilities are endless.

  When I get to close, when I get to fuck them over and over, I get…. addicted, for lack of a better word.

  Love isn’t in my vocabulary; that stopped when we were tossed out of heaven after the war, when we fell out of God’s good graces.

  I can still taste her on my tongue and smell her in the room and it makes me itch for her.

  “Don’t let her leave. If you can’t handle keeping them apart-”

  “I can. Hell, she’s still here isn’t she? She stayed with me. I think she’s just confused.”

  “Confused is not enough. It means she is still torn. Fix this. I don’t want her torn. I don’t want him to make her feel so bad that she ends up in his bed and pregnant. That’s the whole reason we are here, not to find you another little pet to fuck.”

  “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Fast. And Devin, play the understanding boyfriend card, not the asshole. She won’t react to it. You can pretend, can’t you?”

  I laugh lightly.

  “Are you kidding? The only one that lies better than I do, is you.”

  He slaps me on the back. “Good. Make her love you.”

  Love. The word makes bile rise in my throat. I swallow it back down and meet his eyes. I know he can smell the obsession inside me building, he knows me too well. I guess that’s what happens when you have known someone since the dawn of time.

  “You can do it, can’t you? She’s going to be tough, but you’ve done it before.”

  I hate it when someone, man or woman, looks at me and tells me that they love me. I can’t make myself form that sickening word on my tongue.

  But he’s right, I want her. She’s mine and I’m keeping it that way.

  I simply nod, brushing by him, becoming visible again as I pass him on my way out of the bedroom.

  ***

  Cora

  Sitting on his balcony, I prop my feet up on a small ottoman and curl under a fuzzy blanket with a cup of tea warming my hands.

  I’m so stupid.

  I should be home, with Andrew. I should be talking this out with him, not here. This isn’t where I belong. If I hadn’t left my phone by the bed….

  “Hey, you okay?” I hear his deep voice purr after he opens the door.

  Turning, I see Devin. Wearing the same gray sweats, no shirt. His hair is pulled back in a hair tie. Soft, concerned blue eyes take me in. “You look good in my shirt.”

  I glance down. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Devin takes my hand, pulls me to my feet, and then promptly sits, pulling me into his lap so that I’m straddled, facing him. He brushes my hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear with a gentle hand. The faint remnants of the scent of his cologne is on his hands, touching my nose, warming me just a little more than I like.

  I wish he didn’t make me feel this way.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I look away. How to even say it? He’s never had this soft look in his eyes before, I don’t know what to make of it.

  “I… it’s just so much. All this that’s been happening. I didn’t expect to meet you, and I was so lost with Andrew.”

  He smiles, laughing.

  “I didn’t expect to meet you either. Are you feeling overwhelmed with me? I know, I’m a lot to take in.”

  I laugh. “That’s a fact. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re a beast.”

  “I try.” He grins at me.

  “I’m impressed, to say the least,” I snicker. “In all seriousness, Devin, I don’t know why I’m here.”

  “I can only imagine what you’re going through. Does it make me bad if I want to keep you to myself?” He nuzzles my neck, his lips lingering on my ear. Chills run down my spine.

  “No, you’re bad for other reasons.”

  He chuckles in my ear.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I nod, looking into his face. He’s so gorgeous in the moonlight.

  “Have you been with him since this started?”

  “No, no I haven’t. It’s just been you. Honestly, I didn’t think you cared either way. Up until now I thought that this was just sex for you.”

  My heart pounds out a slow, thick rhythm in my chest as I wait for his answer. I don’t want it to be more to him than that. I prefer it stay easy, cut and dried. A sexual relationship with no feelings tripping anyone up.

  Judging by the look on his face, it might be too late.

  “I’m not sure how I feel, to be honest. You’re getting to me.” He turns my face when I attempt to look away, forcing my eyes to his. “Come inside. Get back in my bed.”

  I bite my lip. He drags his thumb across it.

  “Haven’t you had enough of me for one night?” I tease.

  He pulls me close. “I’ll never have enough of you, Cora.”

  My lungs seize up when his full, hot mouth touches mine. After a moment, he pulls back, leaving me wanting more.

  “You know, about what you said about him earlier. If you were mine, really mine, I’d be damned if I’d have let you leave. I’d have tossed your ass over my shoulder if I had to. I can’t believe he just let you go.”

  I suppose that’s true. He didn’t try to stop me. What does that mean?

>   “Get back in bed,” he orders me, leaning in to nibble on my lips.

  Heat fills me, molten desire floods my veins. I push my hands into his hair, he responds with a groan, standing, lifting me as if I weigh nothing.

  ***

  Andrew

  I’m going to throw up.

  I’m pacing the hallways of my house with one eye on the clock. I can’t believe she never came home.

  I’m a damn fool for waiting for her like a pathetic dog. Too jacked up on my emotions to sleep, I try to call. I text, nothing happens. God, is she with him now? At this very minute, is he touching her?

  This just isn’t her. Cora isn’t like this. My Cora would be here, talking to me, begging me to listen to her. Not walking away from me to get into someone else’s bed.

  Am I a fool to want her? After this? Maybe I’m reasoning it out, I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t let him have her.

  I call again, straight to voice mail. With a roar, I throw my phone. It hits the TV in the living room, spider webbing it.

  Damn, did I break my phone? I grab it off the floor. The screen is broken, but it lights up. Little pieces of glass bite my fingers, causing pinpricks of blood as I check to see if I can still dial. The phone works. At least she can call me if she has to.

  I sit down on the couch, my head in my hands. I have no idea what to do, where to turn.

  One thought pops into my head.

  Pray.

  I push it back. Pray? I haven’t prayed in years. The thought brings me back to my twelve year old self, in church with my older brother, the irresistible urge to walk down front after the alter call. Hit my knees down front, prayed with an old man, gave my soul to God.

  I really didn’t feel any different when it was over. Part of me wondered if I did it wrong and I kind of just went on with my life.

  Casting my eyes heavenward, I wonder, what would a prayer hurt? But then, what would it help? It’s not like God would listen to me. He’s not part of my life anymore.

  I swallow my nausea.

  Standing, I head to the bedroom. I find a shirt lying on the bed, bury my face in it. Smells of her, the sweet floral perfume that I got for her last Christmas. Finding the scent comforting, I finally find the strength to lie down and let go of my rage, if only for a minute.