With haunting dark eyes and a jaw sharp enough to cut yourself on his deadly edges, he’s heartbreakingly handsome in the same way oleander is fatal. Pretty to look at, but its toxic poison will end you with a taste.
And he fucking knows it.
I strain against the stupid cord he tied me with. My own damn supplies hold me back. Pinning me beneath Devlin’s thumb. He’s such a bastard. Each time I shift a little, his gaze flicks down, watching my body.
Whatever his offer is, it can’t be good. Maybe it would have been easier if I’d convinced him to fuck me for revenge. At least then he’d have to untie me, and I could make a cleaner getaway.
Though that’s the one thing I’ve never put on the table to survive.
A phoenix rises from the ashes, born anew from strife. I reform and reshape the person I am, but I don’t feel born again. The hardships I’ve faced only turn my shell harder, preparing me for the next obstacle to battle tooth and nail. I’ve become unrecognizable from the idealistic little girl I once was.
My lines have been drawn and redrawn in the sand each time I barreled over one, learning a new thing I was capable of losing if it meant food on the table and a tin roof over our heads.
But not my body. Never my body.
It might be one of my last lines standing, but I won’t cross it.
I guess I’m glad he doesn’t want that from me.
Peering at Devlin through my lashes, it’s hard to decipher the mask he keeps locked in place. This differs from the one he wears in school and parties, the one that brands him Silver Lake High’s dark king. That one is easy to read. Hair hangs in his eyes, but I can see the mix of calculative coldness and an uncomfortable eagerness in the sinister depths. He’s probably looking forward to catching a new toy in his claws.
I scrape my teeth against my bottom lip, wishing I could reach the knots around my wrists. Gemma took me to a self defense class in Denver over the summer. If I could get loose, aim an incapacitating kick at his nuts, I think I’d make it to the woods surrounding the house before he caught me again. I’m a fast runner. But these damn knots are so tight and he tied my arms so they’re separated rather than together, leaving me unable to use my opposite hand to work the restraint free.
Biding my time isn’t going well. When he grabbed me in the garage, I knew right away I’d never overpower him, not while we were alone. I need to wait for the upper hand to fight him. The rules here—deep in enemy territory—are unknown. I have to figure my way out of this mess.
I’ve been trying to squirm free of the cord wound around my wrists. He didn’t tie me with any normal knots, it seems. Every time I move they feel tighter, not looser.
The rumors spread by the bragging from girls who have been with him swim to the front of my mind, how he doesn’t fuck like other guys. They call him mischievous and dangerously sexy. With the way these knots are tied…god, what kind of freaky shit gets him off?
“I really should have you locked up, but since you begged so nicely—well, not quite, but,” Devlin touches his splayed hand to his chest and pretends to bow, right out of an Austen novel, “I’m willing to be a gentleman and help you out.”
My eyebrows shoot up before I can hold back a reaction. Um, what?
It doesn’t sound like a nice gesture at all, his tone and the blackness of his shadowed eyes belying the trap in his offer.
As if I’d believe he’s helping me out of the goodness of his heart!
Devlin doesn’t have a heart. If he ever had one, it died off long ago. In its place sits a rotten, decayed hole.
“What exactly do you mean?”
Sign your soul over to me, or the cops.
How can I pick between my nightmare and the devil that torments me?
What does he expect me to do? It’s an impossible choice. But then again, so is the problem that drove me into this situation in the first place.
This feels like one of his cruel tricks, the same as his soccer buddies baiting me with dollar bills on fishing wire at school. Or last year, when he let me sit at his lunch table alongside Gemma because Lucas wanted her there, but the price was Devlin toying with my lunch tray and dumping it on the floor in front of everyone.
Devlin waves off my question. “I’ll give you what you came here for.”
That gets my attention. I sit up as much as I can on the narrow stool, swallowing.
“I don’t follow.” My forehead wrinkles. “You’re going to let me drive off with your car? Just like that?”
The corner of Devlin’s mouth quirks up and a dimple appears in his cheek.
“Not at all. You’re never to touch my car again.” He points at me to drive that decree home. He studies me with cunning curiosity. “No, what I mean is if you play my game, I’ll forget all about tonight. And if you do that, I’ll give you the money you obviously need.”
My lips part, lured by the temptation for a minute.
Reality catches up with me a second later. I snap my mouth shut as I seek out the part where he laughs in my face. Because what he’s offering? It sounds too fucking good to be true. He’ll just give me money? There’s a catch, I know it.
Devlin? Fine with helping me?
We hate each other.
“This offer expires before you leave here.” Devlin’s grin is smug. “So…ready to play a game, little thief?” He slinks closer, like a beast hunting me down for sport, drowning me in the rich, earthy scent of leather and spice. He wraps a lock of my hair around his finger while the smile dances on his lips, the dimples on display. “I’ll explain further. The rules are simple: my way is law.”
“That’s it?” I purse my lips to the side.
Things with Devlin are never simple. There are always layers, cruel pranks lurking beneath his punch line. I have a hard time believing what he’s offering is as straightforward as he puts it.
“It’s a one time bargain.” Devlin leans in to whisper against my ear—because what’s a ringmaster without the theatrics? “You might say it’s a real steal.”
Devlin’s deep voice tugs at something deep inside me, his hot breath coasting over my skin.
“Ugh.” I tug away from him, jerking my head. He releases me, still invading in my personal space. “Seriously, what’s the fine print? No way in hell will I agree to anything you want without knowing what a deal with the devil entails.”
Devlin chuckles, the sound low and raspy. “Smart. Too bad you don’t have any leverage or negotiating power. Your choices are limited to what I offer, or communal soap.”
“Just tell me.”
“The deal is this, little bug.” Devlin taps my nose. “You become mine.”
My breath catches in my throat as he goes on.
“Mine to command, to do anything I say, whenever I demand it.” Devlin cocks his head, hooding his eyes. “And I’ll pay you for it. If you behave and do as I say.”
How can I agree to that?! I’d have to be crazy! But…the money.
I have to swallow twice to dislodge the thickness clogging my throat. “Like your—your personal servant?”
“Like a well-trained,” Devlin flicks his eyes to my shirt and grimaces, “…dog. Even mutts can learn to obey their masters.”
Master. My stomach clenches and a cold prickle travels over my skin. Sweat beads on the back of my neck.
This is insane. I’m actually considering his offer. I have to, don’t I? I’m once again left with few options.
Devlin’s right, unfortunately. He threw it right in my face.
It’s jail time for me if I refuse him.
I can’t do that to Mom.
For whatever sick reason, he wants to give me this out. The notice letter burns in my back pocket. Debts chained to us by Dad will bury Mom and I, but this could be our way to dig out of the endless sandpit. Damn it, we need the money.
What’s worse, a jail sentence or becoming the devil’s toy?
My pride screams at me. Years of bullying at his hand in school flickers like a
movie reel in my mind. It goes against everything in me to bow to his rule.
Last year my life was easier at school. My friend Gemma was the new girl, unafraid to stand up to people’s crap. She’s in college now, so things have gone back to the way they’ve been since I started at Silver Lake High School, the pack of vultures led by Devlin himself to pick at my pride until there’s nothing left but scraps.
Agreeing to this will undermine the efforts I go to in order to rise above his petty bullshit.
For Mom… You can do it as long as it helps Mom.
“I want it in writing,” I breathe, barely recognizing my strained voice.
He hums, covering his mouth. It’s even harder to guess his thoughts with only half of his face visible. “Why?”
“You didn’t record this conversation on your phone. Verbal agreements are paper thin. You could just turn around and decide you want to fuck me over anyway.” I wet my lips and will the words out. “Put it in writing and I’ll sign it. I’ll—” My voice gets stuck in my burning throat. “I’ll…become yours. For payment.”
Devlin considers me for a long minute, tracing an absent pattern over his lips. He steps back, giving me room to breathe.
“Clever girl,” he mutters as he rummages in the drawers, coming up empty. He grabs a magazine from the middle of the island and tears out a page. “Fine. Is there a pen in your thief kit?”
“Yes. You’ll need to untie me so I can sign.”
On the outside I’m collected, confident, and calm. Inside I’m a mess, a storm of wounded pride and hungry desperation. Survival above all else. It’ll be worth it.
Devlin rifles through my pouch and bends over the torn paper to write out the terms of our agreement. After he signs it with a flourish, he frees one of my hands.
“Still tied up here,” I point out, shaking my wrist out and flexing it.
“Just how I like you, troublemaker.” Devlin slaps the pen down on the contract and slides it in front of me. “Sign it and I’ll let you go. Of course, if you’ve taken to being tied up, we can leave you like that. You make an excellent addition to the kitchen decor.”
The corners of my mouth turn down. Dickhead.
My hand is clammy as I hold the pen. It slips a little and I adjust my grip.
The wording is simple. The ripped magazine page states precisely what Devlin said.
Blair Davis agrees to complete any order set by Devlin Murphy in exchange for monetary payment.
There’s no end date specified. I’ll endure it, even if it’s forever. The chance to clear the crushing debts Mom and I carry is too valuable. My life and pride are small prices to pay.
Inhaling quietly, I sign myself over to the devil.
Five
Devlin
Once she signs her name on the contract she insisted on, I dig my fingers into the knotted cord on her other wrist, freeing her.
The heat of success coils deep in my gut as I skim over our impromptu contract, her name written neatly with no frills beside mine.
Oh, sticky fingers. You have no idea what you’ve signed up for.
I stick my tongue into my cheek. My head is already overflowing with ideas to humiliate her. I’ll teach her lesson after lesson. Not only will she regret the day she set her sights on taking what’s mine, she’ll learn to fear the monster I keep chained up inside me.
I'll be her own personal nightmare and her salvation all at once. A heady mix of power put in my hands.
The thought of making her dance to my own twisted tune fills me with so much satisfaction I go a little lightheaded from the rush.
Blair slides off the stool, rubbing her wrists. There are pink marks on her skin that will fade by morning. The cord wasn’t tied tight enough to leave a lasting mark.
I should do something to mark her.
That craving gets put on hold for the time being. I need time to plan out the commands I want to give her.
Blair makes quick work of the cord, undoing it from the stool. She skirts around me to snatch up her zipper pouch. Once it’s reattached to her belt, she runs her fingers through her sleek hair.
We’re at an impasse. The terms of the contract are in place, but the mood of her intrusion and my efforts to thwart it hangs between us. We’re not friends—quite the opposite.
Instead of reclaiming firm control once more, I let the moment stretch, curious what she’ll do. Hell, she’s fast enough, I wouldn’t put it past her to snatch the closest thing she can and make a mad dash for the door. If it comes to that, I’m fast as fuck, too. I’ll catch her again.
“So…” Blair trails off and avoids my gaze. “I’m just gonna go.”
She watches me for a beat, like she expects me to go back on my word. I don’t break a deal.
Tipping my head to the side, I lift my brows. “Off you scurry then, gutter rat.”
She grants me a severe look, shoulders a stiff line.
Good. Keep that iron pride intact. You’re gonna need it, sweetheart.
As Blair slips from the room, I trail her. I might not go back on my word, but I don’t trust her at all. Desperation makes people do stupid shit, and she’s got three seconds from the next bad decision written all over her scrawny ass.
What’s some grand larceny on top of her other crimes tonight?
At the front door, an odd urge drags a question from me. “How did you get into the community, anyway?” Blair glances over her shoulder and shrugs. I circle around and prop against the door, blocking her escape. She’ll answer my questions before she disappears into the darkness. “Answer me. Gemma’s at college, so that option’s out. You don’t know anyone else here.”
Blair smirks, the self-satisfaction looking irritatingly good on her. “I have my ways.”
She attempts to open the door without touching me while I’m leaning on it.
If she doesn’t know anyone here, I guess she hiked the mountain. It’s how I’d do it in her place. If that’s the truth, it doesn’t sit right with me. “The woods are dangerous at night.”
Her eyes dart up and she falls back a step. The movements are quick, but I watch in fascination as she assesses the other exit options, since I’m blocking her current choice.
“If you planned on walking,” I clarify with a gesture of my hand. “There’s a community patrol, but they don’t always scare things off.”
“I’ll manage.” She reaches for the doorknob.
“What if I make you stay.” It’s not a question. But it’s not entirely me fucking around with control. Despite promising to let her go…I’m not ready for her to leave.
Blair freezes. I’ve got her there.
Her perceptive gaze finds mine. I keep my expression smooth, not giving her any hints if I’m bluffing or not. She swallows.
“I, uh, can’t.” She’s suddenly shifty. Her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt at her side. I fold my arms. After blowing out a breath, she elaborates, “My mom will be home soon. I need to be there before that.”
Blair waits me out for the span of one heartbeat to the next, then twists the doorknob.
My resolve cracks. I can’t let her go out there like this. Christ, she’s stubborn. I look forward to bringing that bad habit under my command.
“Seriously.” I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Do you need a ride to the gate? Or an Uber?”
Blair scoffs. “Still playing the gentleman act?”
Sharp laughter barks out of me. In a quick move, my arms circle her waist, twirling her around. I cage her against the door, planting my palms on either side of her head as I lean down in her space. Her body heat seeps into mine, her tits brushing against my t-shirt. If I take another step closer, I’ll pin her with my body.
“Hardly,” I rasp. “I’m worse than the danger that lurks outside. I don’t want anything to happen to my new toy.”
Her mouth twists and her dark lashes flutter. Color fills her freckled cheeks as her attention skates to my forearm flexing beside her head.
I expected big, brash reactions from her, although she never gives me a response like that when I taunt her in school. What I’m unprepared for is the way she keeps still, assessing the situation rather than trying to immediately knee my balls.
“Come on.” Blair sighs and rests her head against the door. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
It almost works on me, but the tight tremor in her shoulders gives her away, destroying her air of casualness. I make her more uncomfortable than walking through the woods at night.
I step back and chuck her under the chin with a crooked finger. This is a discovery I can use to my advantage later.
“Don’t get eaten out there.” I tuck my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants. “Can’t have you dying before the fun starts.”
Blair stares at me in disbelief, then rolls her eyes. “You’re un-fucking-believable.”
The door swings open and slams shut behind her. It echoes into the exposed beams high overhead, the modern chandelier rattling with the faint tinkle of glass and metal.
Tch. I file her insolence away. She’ll pay for that, too.
I wander back to the kitchen and lean on my elbows against the island. The scent of her cheap imitation vanilla shampoo clings to me. I’ll have to shower again to get this shit off me.
The quiet settles over the house once again. It happens faster than expected, the oppressive weight of silence almost shocking me. For a short time, I almost forgot. Now that the excitement of the night has faded, I’m left alone in my house with only my cars and my thoughts to keep me company.
When I swallow, my throat is tight.
I rub my fingertips together and resist the nagging urge to climb to the second floor landing to see if I can watch Blair’s exit. Something tells me she’s already blended in with the shadows.
Taking out my phone, I skim my Instagram notifications. There’s a slew of likes and comments on my picture of Red this morning and the one I shared from practice of my cleats next to a soccer ball. Bishop left a load of emojis in a comment on both posts that makes me snort. It’s funny to imagine that tonight could have gone differently if I hadn’t walked to the garage intent on a joyride when I did.
Tempting Devil: Sinners and Saints Book 2 Page 4