Tempting Devil: Sinners and Saints Book 2

by Eden, Veronica

  “Okay, let’s get her loaded.” The paramedic turns to us in the cramped space while her partner sets up a stretcher. “We’ll be taking her to Ridgeview Memorial. I can only let one of you ride in the ambulance.”

  “Me,” Blair pipes up. She swipes under her eyes and pulls away from my side, leaving it cold and empty. “I’m her daughter.”

  “Okay, come on.” The paramedic gestures to the door.

  Outside, Blair freezes, looking down at her hoodie and those cute little shorts. When she came out of the trailer in them I wanted to bury my hands under the hem and palm her ass.

  “Just go,” I murmur in her ear, squeezing her shoulders from behind. “People show up in all kinds of wild shit when there’s an emergency. Where’s the house key? I’ll clean up the glass, then lock up and follow behind you.”

  Blair hangs her head, scrubbing her face. “Hook by the door. Thanks.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Okay.” Blair’s voice is so small.

  It’s bizarre to see her like this, worn down and razed to the ground. I’m used to her quiet strength, the stubbornness to rise above the taunts at school. I want to freeze the moment so I can examine this fascinating new facet from every angle, but there’s no time.

  “I promise.” I don’t know what pushes me to offer her reassurance. Rubbing her shoulders, I explain, “Ridgeview Memorial is good. My godfather is the chief of medicine there.”

  A flicker of hope sparks to life in Blair’s eyes. “Thanks.” She glances at the ambulance as her mother is loaded in the back. “I know you came here for a different reason. But, um, I’m glad you were here.”

  Blair touches my arm briefly. My poor little pest is shaken, unsure. For all that she takes care of things, in this case she let panic rule her.

  I lick my lips. “You can pay me back later.”

  The deliberate cruelty of my words is used to regain the higher ground. She doesn’t get a pass. It doesn’t drive away the lack of control I’m grappling with.

  Blair tenses.

  Taking a breath, she jogs away. I watch from the front step of her trailer as she takes the paramedic’s hand and climbs into the back of the ambulance. I swallow the urge to rip her away from the EMS guy. He’s doing his job, not coming onto her.

  As the ambulance pulls out, crunching over the gravel, I chain up the monster inside and go back into the trailer.

  Inside, I pause. I could unearth all of Blair’s secrets. She shouldn’t have trusted me to be in her trailer alone.

  Locating the broom, I take care of the remnants of the broken plate. Every second I spend in the trailer, inhaling hints of vanilla, is another second a tether pulls taught in my stomach.

  A week without talking to her was torture. I was going to let everything go—the agreement, the break in, even forget her existence. My goal was to go back to the way things were before she broke into my garage, before this game started between us.

  It messed me up after she kissed me like a siren, then asked for payment.

  And it’s my own fault. My own game has destroyed me.

  The idea of making her wear the cheer uniform and make a fool of herself in front of everyone, then kiss me to top it all off, was supposed to be a way to toy with her. Instead, I’m the one plagued by that fucking kiss.

  It wasn’t supposed to spark this desire in me.

  The taste isn’t enough. I’m an addict, desperate for my drug of choice.

  After kissing Blair, I want to fucking devour her.

  The time I spent restricting myself, ignoring her in class and avoiding her in school has only heightened that need. It did the opposite of what I wanted. Instead of getting her out of my system, she dug her claws deeper. I couldn’t stay away any longer.

  She’s in my bloodstream and she’s not going anywhere unless I do something about it.

  I don’t want to go to my depressing empty house in the mountains, and I’m not leaving her alone right now.

  Forget snooping for Blair’s secrets.

  I’m going to get my girl.

  * * *

  Blair’s voice reaches me as I search through the emergency room.

  “I don’t care about your procedures! That’s my mom and I want to go back with her!”

  Turning the next corner, I find Blair fighting with a nurse.

  “Miss, I can’t let you beyond this point.” The nurse seems completely done, like she’s repeated herself multiple times. “You can wait in the lounge over there.”

  I close the distance between us in four long strides, sliding between Blair and the nurse.

  “Stop. You’re just making a scene and getting nowhere. That’s not how you get what you want.”

  Blair glares. “So what? I want to go back there.”

  The nurse disappears behind the No Entry Beyond This Point door while Blair is distracted.

  “Quick, she’s gone. We can sneak in.”

  I almost smile. Pesky little troublemaker.

  “Come on.” Steering Blair away from the restricted door, I take her to a lounge area. I kiss her temple. “Wait for me.”

  There’s a vending machine for coffee nearby. It’s probably bitter and shitty, but she needs something warm to drink. I punch the buttons and watch the cardboard cup fill.

  This area of the hospital isn’t busy right now. I passed a few people in the emergency room reception when I came in, but this section is deserted. The lighting is too bright, everything smells of stale air and astringent antiseptic. It creates a sense of liminal space.

  I don’t like hospitals.

  One of the few memories I have before my parents began dumping me on others was when I was young, maybe four or five. I was playing with Lucas, who could climb better since he was a year older. I wanted to do anything Lucas did. He was my idol. My only friend.

  When I tried to climb as high as Lucas, I fumbled my footing and landed badly on a rock. They made me stay overnight in the hospital, alone, with too many beeping machines.

  Grabbing the piping hot coffee, I return to find Blair biting on her abused thumb nail. Her brows are furrowed and she stares into space. I pass her the coffee.

  “In the ambulance she started seizing or something, I don’t know,” Blair mumbles, looking rattled. “Once we pulled up to the hospital, they took her away.”

  I tip her chin up. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen. “I’m going to find my godfather. Just wait here.”

  Blair blows out a ragged breath and shrugs. Taking a sip of coffee, she grimaces.

  “This tastes like shit.”

  The corner of my mouth curls up. “Tough.”

  “Seriously, this is the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”

  I leave her with her crappy hospital coffee and head for the elevator in the next hallway. I ride it up to the third floor, questioning what I’m doing the whole way to my godfather’s office.

  Whatever it is, I’ll see it through. There’s no point in stopping at this point. If it gets me to my endgame, then it’s worth it.

  Uncle Craig is inside the office, seated at a glass top desk with a pair of reading glasses drooping low on the bridge of his nose as he goes over medical records. A white lab coat is draped across a black leather sofa.

  Craig is a barrel-chested man with a broad, gleaming white smile, light brown skin, and warm eyes that make you feel his love. He’s not my uncle by blood, but I’ve known him my entire life. He always insists I treat him like family, which I’m glad to. As far as I’m concerned, we are family.

  I knock on the open door. “Hey.”

  Uncle Craig looks up and beams at me, waving his hand to gesture me in. “Devlin! What a surprise. I was just talking to your dad a couple of days ago. Have a seat.”

  Of course. Dad can talk to his colleagues, but not to his own son. I haven’t had a conversation with Dad in over a week. He ignores most of my texts.

  I should take the hint and stop dragging myself over hot coals because t
here’s nothing to gain from him.

  I stand on the other side of Craig’s desk. “Actually, I can’t stay long. My—” I falter. What is Blair to me? We’re still not friends. What do you call the girl who drives you crazy that you pay to control? The thought rattles through my head unpleasantly. Craig’s graying brows hike up at my verbal fumble. I’m not usually tongue-tied. “—friend, her mom was brought in. I want to make sure she gets the best care possible.”

  “Hmm, I see.” Craig scrubs a big palm over his shiny bald head. He drags his open laptop closer. “What’s the name?”

  “Macy Davis.”

  The keyboard keys clack as Craig types. Craig pushes his glasses up his nose. His eyes bounce back and forth as he reads the information on the screen.

  “Okay. She was given a bed in the emergency department for evaluation of the symptoms she presented with upon arrival. I can’t tell you exact details.”

  “Can you have her transferred into a private room?”

  I picture Blair biting on her nails and sitting in her duck shorts downstairs. A sigh drags out of me. I can’t provide her with my own health insurance, but I can throw money at the problem.

  A niggling instinct has been picking at me since I saw Blair on her knees next to her mom. It’s something fighting against the darker shades of my mind intent on getting what I want out of this.

  “If they admit her to the floor, then yes.”

  “I want to take care of all of it.”

  Craig plucks off his reading glasses and strokes his chin. “Some friend. Are you sure? I can see this patient doesn’t have insurance on file.”

  I wave my hand. “Whatever gets her the best testing and care. Make it happen. Will you keep an eye on her case?”

  “That’s part of my job.” Craig studies me. “Is everything okay? You look like hell.”

  My mouth pulls to the side. “Studying hard, you know? Dad expects me to ace this year to look good for pre-med programs.”

  Craig shakes his head. “Get some rest, Devlin.”

  I release a relieved breath. “Thanks, Uncle Craig.”

  As Craig types on his laptop, I leave the office.

  Blair hasn’t moved from where I left her, and that sends a satisfied hum into the pit of my stomach. She listened. Obeyed.

  Before I can tell her the good news, the same nurse Blair argued with comes through the double doors.

  “Miss Davis? We’re admitting your mom upstairs. Come with me, I’ll take you to see her.”

  Blair jumps to her feet and abandons her cardboard coffee cup on a stack of magazines. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s stable. The doctor taking over her case will likely run some tests to find out what caused her low blood pressure.”

  The nurse walks briskly as she talks. Blair scurries to keep up on shorter legs. I tuck my arm around her waist as we follow the nurse to another bank of elevators.

  It’s ridiculous, but I struggle against a bout of irritation. I wanted to tell Blair.

  As the nurse directs us through the pristine hallway, Blair stiffens beside me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “These are all private rooms. I thought hospitals had some where you share.”

  “Your mom’s getting the best care possible. Isn’t that what you want?”

  Blair shoots me a conflicted look. “Yes, but…aren’t private rooms expensive?”

  Her brow pinches. The math is adding up in her mind. She’s probably factoring in the cost of the ambulance ride, and whatever the charges will be for the emergency room doctor.

  “Here we are,” the nurse announces as we arrive at a room at the end of the hall.

  Corner room. It’ll have a nice view of the mountain range that stretches across Ridgeview in the morning. I suppress a sigh. I did tell Uncle Craig to take the best care of Macy.

  I shouldn’t worry. It won’t even put a dent in the account my parents dump money into each month. Their guilt money.

  As if their money could substitute for real parenting.

  Besides, if it drained the account, I have my personal accounts I’ve grown with my financial advisor through investments.

  “Visiting hours are until 8pm, so you have about twenty minutes to see her.”

  “Thanks,” Blair says.

  The nurse nods and heads down the hall to the nurse’s station.

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure.” Blair glances anxiously at the hospital room. “I don’t have a ride home.”

  “Yes or no?”

  “No…?”

  Sighing, I pull out my wallet. “Here.” I hand her a twenty. “Take a cab home.”

  “Thanks.”

  Leaving is the last thing I want to do.

  I want to drag her to an empty room and tear those tempting cotton shorts off her. It’s torture to have her so close all night after a week of resisting and not be able to kiss her or touch her the way I want.

  Blair peers up at me, hesitating. “You’ve been…not what I expected. I really appreciate your help.”

  I stare back at her. She’s the only thing I’ve wanted all week. She’s right in front of me, thanking me.

  And I’m not done taking from her.

  Her debt isn’t repaid.

  Not even close.

  I’ve jacked the price she owes me higher. I’ll have whatever I want from her. All of it.

  Blair is mine. Nothing will change that now.

  “You can thank me later.” I cup her shoulders. “Because I got your mother this room and better care.”

  Blair’s features go slack. “You what?”

  I lean down to murmur in her ear. “You can consider what I did payment. I’ll be there this weekend to pick you up. You’d better be packed and ready.”

  A minute ago she was thanking me. Now she stumbles back a step, glaring at me.

  The demand destroys any bridge I’ve built with Blair by helping her through the situation tonight. Instead of crossing it, I choose my selfishness over everything else. It’s the only way I know to keep the pieces on the board under my control.

  “I hate you.” Blair’s glare is fierce, but she doesn’t argue.

  I smirk. “I know.”

  The problem isn’t that Blair hates me. It’s that I no longer fully hate her. It’s seeped away, overcome by the growing obsession with the way she makes me feel alive when I’m around her.

  The only thing I care about is having her.

  And I always get what I want.

  “Go be with your mom.” I begin to back away, keeping her locked in my sight. Pure fury rolls off Blair in waves. “See you this weekend.”

  Twenty-Two

  Blair

  This month has felt far too long with everything that’s happened.

  It’s the last weekend in September and the weather has spiked into the mid-80s all week with a late in the season heatwave. I’m craving the cooler temperatures of fall, when the aspen trees turn golden and the scent of woodsmoke fills the air.

  The ancient window unit died in August, leaving me to suffer in an oppressively hot trailer as I haul my small box of books out to the car.

  Devlin isn’t helping, the bastard.

  I want to slap the smarmy, triumphant smirk from his face.

  He leans against the Porsche with sunglasses on, arms crossed, showing off the defined curve of his biceps. In his basketball shorts and a white and green SLHS varsity soccer t-shirt, he looks damn good. I’m annoyed at myself for giving into baser instincts. How can I be attracted to this jerk with tousled black hair and a cut jaw?

  Devlin shifts, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to scratch an itch, showing off his abs as the shirt lifts.

  God. Damn. It.

  Fuck my lizard brain. Fuck it right to hell.

  I hike the heavy box of books higher as my attention falls to his exposed tan skin. Heat pools low in my stomach. When I dart my eyes back up, his smirk stretches. What an ass. He knows exac
tly what he’s doing.

  Well, it won’t work on me. I won’t let it. Our fake kiss is all he’ll get out of me.

  “Would it kill you to lift a finger?” I gasp.

  Sweat trickles down the back of my neck. The box is hard to hold in my slippery grip.

  Devlin shrugs. “It might.”

  Rolling my eyes, I get the burden into the trunk without his help. It’s filled with my favorite books. I’m not bringing much else with me. A patched up duffel stuffed with some clothes sits next to the box. Other than that I have my backpack full of school supplies and my two uniforms.

  Devlin insisted on picking me up to make sure I wasn’t backing out. His mechanic is supposed to pick up my Corolla later and drop it off.

  We have Monday off from school. I’ll be trapped for three days straight in Devlin’s giant house.

  This is insane.

  I’m moving in with Devlin.

  All because the arrogant asshole considers footing Mom’s medical bills payment for his demand.

  Grateful relief brawls with the part of me outraged that he’s using his financial assistance to manipulate me. Now he believes he owns me even more than before. This no longer feels like a game to humiliate me as payback.

  It’s darker, more twisted and sinister.

  I have to adapt again to his mind games. If I don’t, he’ll swallow me whole in damnation and hellfire, consuming me until my last breath.

  The problem isn’t dancing with the devil.

  It’s that I’m willing to keep selling my soul to him if it means Mom gets better treatment and top of the line medical care.

  We would never be able to afford that private hospital room, let alone the ambulance ride with our lack of insurance and limited income.

  “Is that everything?” Devlin surveys my measly collection of belongings. “You don’t have more?”

  He probably sees junk, but to me I have my most treasured possessions—my book collection and a few of my favorite printouts of folk art I got at the library. The carefully pieced together set of books is one of the few things I’ve saved for myself.

  I shrug. “That’s it. The rest can stay here.”

  “Then lock up your rat-sized shoebox and let’s get the hell out of here. This place is depressing, and your neighbors keep staring at Red.”