Everest? No, he wouldn’t understand. He’d be pissed off, and besides, the Feds want to talk to him too.
Vincent? Absolutely not. He’s just a kid, and some sort of protective instinct flares up in me. I won’t allow him to see such depravity. Witnessing murders and torture is more than enough.
I don’t even think of Vale and Igor, for obvious reasons.
That leaves Logan. I know she hates him, but he’s the only one I can trust. He’ll probably taunt me over this for the rest of my life, but I don’t think he’d make fun of her. He wouldn’t be so cruel.
Anyway, if he did, she would absolutely destroy him with those violet eyes of hers. I’ve never seen anyone who hates being made fun of as much as her. It always makes me chuckle when I think of it. Even now, with this annoying predicament staring me in the face.
I don’t want anyone to see her naked. Especially not like this, in such an obscene position. But it looks like I have no choice.
Goddamnit. Why didn’t I go untie her right away? But Vale’s words were such a shock that before they’d even had time to register, I was already being pushed along the hallway.
Maybe I could quickly run back… No. They’re waiting. And Vale’s eyes are boring into me, as usual.
The only thing to do is hope they won’t keep us too long. Just an hour or two. Maybe three. They can only keep us twenty-four hours, anyway, without charging us with a crime.
What if they charge us…?
Even if they don’t, twenty-four hours is far too long to be handcuffed to a bed. For once, I think of her comfort before my pride, even though I know she won’t see it that way. But she’ll get over it. She’s gotten over everything I’ve forced her to endure before. Thecell, the loneliness, the broken promise of dinner together…
I’ve noticed an unsettling pattern, though. She seems to be getting over things with more difficulty, lately. The better I treat her, the less capable she is of handling the little things that upset her.
Oh, well. She’ll have to get over it. Maybe this will remind her that I own her. She’s mine to do with as I please. She’s been lucky lately, but that luck can change with a snap of my fingers, and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.
Still, it’s with more than just a pang of compunction that I fumble in my pocket and take out a small key. I toss it to Logan.
“I want you to use this in… five hours, if I’m not back,” I say. Five hours seems like a pretty good number. I’ll probably be back before then, and it won’t be long enough for her to break down. I hope.
Logan stares at the key, a confused expression on his face.
I grit my teeth, aware that Vale is watching us as we walk out of the elevator and toward the entrance of the building, where the Feds are waiting.
“In five hours,” I mutter, “go check on the pet.”
I’ve never known him to be so slow. He’s still staring at the key, probably wondering what it belongs to. It’s not the key to her apartment door. Each of us Devils has a copy, though I’ve warned them all never to use it without my express permission, and it’s a somewhat bulky metal object that looks nothing like the tiny thing I’ve just handed him.
“Keep your eyes closed,” I warn, and the confused expression dissipates, replaced by a typical Logan smirk.
“Also, fuck you,” I conclude. I hear him chuckle as he presses the elevator button again, while the rest of us walk toward thearmy of waiting Feds.
23
Seraphina
Idon’t know how long I wait like this, my hands in handcuffs, my bottom lifted by the pillows underneath me, the air from the open window drifting across my skin and making me fully aware of just how exposed I am.
It takes a while for reality to sink in. At first, my mind is in a fog of pleasure and frustration as I revel in what just happened. Even the lightest touch, coming from Damien, is enough to send sparks of electricity through me. And he kept me in a state of frenzied need for I don’t know how long. Touching me, filling me, sending me to the cusp of nirvana, then dragging me back each time.
I always wonder how he can possibly know me so well. How he understands exactly when to stop, when to start, where to touch me, how to drive me absolutely frantic.
Clearly someone who knows my body so well must care for me.
I allow myself to believe it, to fully believe it, to think back to every conversation we’ve had lately, to the feel of his arm around me, his chest beneath me while I fall asleep. I ignore all the questions still unanswered that have made me imagine the worst in the past, and let myself sink into the pleasure of believing.
He cares. Maybe he… loves me. The word thrills me even as it scares me. Could I really mean as much to him as he means to me?No one who didn’t care for me could touch me so well. My body hums with happiness. I can barely wrap my head around it. I’m no longer alone. I’ve been chosen by someone, and not just anyone. Someone I yearn for with every thread of my being.
All I can think of at first is how much I want to see him. How much I want him to do whatever it was he did, again. I stay as still as I can, hoping he’ll be proud of me when he finds me in the position he’s left me in, though I guess I don’t have much choice in the matter.
