Page 59 of Life Or Death

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

JESS

I didn’t sleep again, and this time it had nothing to do with the possibility of me having nightmares and being afraid I’d wake Poppy. No, this was all because of Lucifer and his wicked mouth.

My God, the man can kiss.

The coffee maker gurgles and spits as I lean against the kitchen counter, my fingers absently tracing the bruises on my neck.

I’ve never had a man attack me like that, and every time I think about the way his teeth grazed my skin or the possessive growl that rumbled from his chest when he continued to kiss me, I get all hot and bothered again. I forgot what it was like to be desired. Hell, until last night I wasn’t so sure a man would look at me like that again.

I think about the way he looked at me when he told me my nipples were perfect, and the arrogant look in his eyes when he threatened to take his cock out and make me watch him masturbate—I had never been more turned on in my life, and all I could think about when I got home was how much I really would’ve liked tickets to that show.

To see him come apart and hear the sounds he made when he lost control.

Yeah, I wanted to experience that more than anything.

Another thought that kept me awake was the realization that last night I wasn’t a girl defined by tragedy. I wasn’t the girl who got burned alive. When he brought me inside the clubhouse and we sat on the couch, it felt intimate. The conversation—the way he touched me. I wondered if that’s how things would be between us if our marriage wasn’t just a thing of convenience. Those are dangerous thoughts to have when you’ve been let down by people your whole life. You realize the walls you’ve carefully curated are crumbling, and the one man you shouldn’t want is the only one you do.

A door opens and closes in the hallway, and I hear Tori mutter something. I straighten up quickly and flip my hair over my shoulders, hoping she doesn’t notice the marks I spent a half hour trying to cover with concealer.

“Morning,” she calls out, her voice still thick with sleep. “You’re up early.”

Keeping my back to her, I grab two mugs from the cabinet. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Tori appears in the doorway, dressed in her pajamas, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She yawns, stretching her arms above her head. “You got in late last night. I’m assuming that means the wedding was fun.”

“It was nice,” I tell her. “It wasn’t at the ranch, though. Something happened, and they wound up moving it to the Fallen Demons clubhouse.”

The coffee finishes brewing with a final sputter. I pour the dark liquid into both mugs and hand one off to her.

“You went to the clubhouse?” she asks, her voice tight.

“Yeah. What was I supposed to do? Tell Jude to take me back home?”

Tori doesn’t say anything. Her eyes travel the length of me, taking in my outfit—a pair of baggy black sweatpants that I’ve paired with a white tank top. It’s what I usually wear for therapy. The only difference is I’ve taken the time to do my hair and makeup, and she apparently notices.

“Why are you dressed so early? We don’t leave for therapy for another hour.” She glances at the clock on the microwave. “Did they change the time?”

“No, they didn’t change the time, but you’re off the hook today.” I pull my lower lip between my teeth and pause. Something in my gut tells me Tori will not be too receptive to what I say next, but I decide just rip the Band-Aid off. “Lucifer is going to take me today.”

Tori stills, her mug frozen halfway to her lips. “What?”

I turn away, reaching for the sugar bowl on the counter. “He offered me a job a month ago, but I was too proud to take it then. Last night, when I saw him at the wedding, I asked if I could still have it, and he agreed. Simple as that.”

“A job. Doing what, exactly?”

I dump a spoonful of sugar into my mug and glance back at her. I know she’s protective of me, especially after what happened, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around why she dislikes Lucifer so much. I mean, there are times when she seems to tolerate him, and after I woke up from my coma, they even appeared to be on a united front—especially when it pertained to my treatment. But then there are also times, times like this, when she acts like he’s the Antichrist, and if I’m being honest, I noticed that long before the fire happened. There were times I’d come home from work, and I’d tell her how he came into the bar that night and how he wouldn’t let me serve him, or how I’d catch him staring at me, and she’d literally tell me to stay away from him.

“I’ll be working at his clubhouse, keeping it clean, serving drinks, stuff like that.”

Tori’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding me, right? Jess, working for him is what got you into this mess to begin with.”

I feel my back stiffen, my defenses rising. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing, Tori.” I pad over to the cabinet and pull out the stack of bills I found the other morning, slapping them down on the counter. “This shouldn’t all be on you.”

Tori’s face falls, her gaze dropping to the stack of envelopes. She sets her mug down with a heavy thud, coffee sloshing over the rim.

“Where did you get those?”