The Devil's Advocate: Devil's Playground Duet #2

by Ashley Jade

  The vindictive bite in his voice sends a shiver up my spine. I’m seriously regretting pushing him so far.

  “No.”

  He plugs my nose, forcing my mouth open. My stomach rolls with a violent lurch. I can practically smell the scent of her on his dick.

  I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head. His maid looked at me like I was lower than scum before. I’d rather have nails drilled into my eyeballs than lick her off of him.

  My head whirls as panic sets in. I only have another few seconds left before my mouth will open involuntarily and he’ll shove it inside.

  Saying please is moot at this point, because he doesn’t want me to beg.

  What he really wants…is my cooperation and for me to uphold my end of the deal.

  “I’m sorry I made you angry, but please don’t make me do this.” I look up at him. “If you let me go, I’ll get ready for the funeral.”

  We stare at one another for what feels like an eternity...until finally, he relents.

  I make my way to the door on shaky legs but pause before exiting. Damien doesn’t strike me as the type of man to give a shit about other people, but the impulse to share this with him is too strong to tamp down.

  “After I caught them together...Cain…” Jesus. Just saying his name takes the breath right out of me. “He wanted me to finish what Margaret started.” My cheeks are damp when I turn to look at him. “People in this town have said some horrible things to me and about me, including my own mother, but I’ve never felt lower or more disrespected in my entire life than at that moment.”

  His dark brows knit together as he studies my face, probably wondering why I bothered to tell him that.

  I shake my head, feeling stupid. “Enjoy your shower.”

  “Eden.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You didn’t make me angry.” The glare he aims my way is so ominous my knees wobble. “And I sincerely hope for your sake you never do. Because I won’t just disrespect you…I’ll fucking annihilate you.”

  Chapter 12

  Eden

  I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter as we make our way toward the funeral home.

  The nasty things the maid whispered under her breath as I was walking out to the car echo through my head, muffling the clack of my heels on the pavement.

  I’m not sure who she is, but she seems to know all about me and my past.

  There’s no escaping it. I’ll always be known as the town slut who tried to ruin a good man and a happy marriage.

  Bile rises up my throat as we pass through the front doors. A few people are gathered in the lobby conversing. It won’t be long before they begin speculating and whispering. “I’m sorry, Damien. I can’t do this.”

  My head spins like a carnival ride and my throat constricts when I realize people are starting to look in our direction.

  My therapist was right. Normalcy isn’t something I’m capable of achieving. I need to focus on small goals: like walking to the mailbox.

  I need to stop trying to run when I’m barely able to crawl, because I’m only setting myself up for failure.

  My breathing accelerates as I hightail it for the door.

  A sharp tug on my arm yanks me back. “Eden.”

  Oh, God. Damien’s saying my name. Everyone is going to know who I am.

  I clutch my stomach when it rumbles. Damien’s speaking, but it sounds like he’s a million miles away.

  My face feels wet and I don’t know if it’s from tears or sweat, but it doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing on my mind.

  I have to leave.

  An overwhelming feeling of doom surrounds me like a viscous black fog, and I claw at my neck with my free hand, desperate for air.

  I’m moving fast but in the wrong direction. The exit is the other way.

  I fight against Damien’s hold, but it’s useless because he lifts me off the ground.

  “No.”

  I need to get out of here. Bad things happen when I leave the confines of my home.

  Lives get ruined. People die.

  “Goddammit,” my tormentor growls. “I told you I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Cain said that, too. For all I know, Damien made a deal with him as well. It would explain why he’s so insistent on me being here.

  This must be the drop off.

  A sardonic laugh bursts from me. A funeral home. How convenient.

  Then again, Cain’s always had a knack for details.

  My maniacal laughter about my demise turns to sobs as Damien sets me down. “For fuck’s sake. Stop crying.”

  “Medication,” I croak as I take in the table displaying mass cards and the few rows of chairs in the otherwise unoccupied room. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like something to take the edge off before I meet my maker.”

  “Eden, look at me.” When I do, he says, “No one in this town is going to fuck with you once they know you’re mine.” He inhales deeply. “Where’s this medication of yours?”

  “In my purse.”

  After inspecting the pill bottle, he places a tablet in my hand. “How long does it take to kick in?”

  I debate telling him at least fifty years, but given it’s a fairly common medication for anxiety and panic attacks, the information is readily available on the Internet. However, he’ll likely be even more of a brooding ass if I tell him to Google the answer.

  I need to choose my battles wisely with this man.

  “About fifteen to twenty minutes.”

  “Fine. We’ll just hang out here until you’re ready to go in.”

  I search his face for signs he’s joking, but there are none.

  “I don’t think you understand—”

  “No,” he sneers, getting close to my face. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. I’m not the kind of man who negotiates, but I did earlier.” Anger radiates off him as he continues. “We had a deal and I expect you to keep your word. You’re attending this funeral and whatever the hell else I want you to for the next month, and that’s final.”

  My only option is to level with him and try to explain that social situations—especially those involving anyone from town—are a severe trigger for me.

  “I know you think I’m being silly and immature, but I’m not. I have a legitimate condition and I can’t be in a room full of people—”

  “You were in a room full of people the other night.”

  “It’s not the same and you know it. Even my therapist—”

  “Your shrink is a quack who deserves to have his license revoked and shoved up his ass.”

  I’m honestly offended. I’ve made amazing progress this year thanks to him…and Cain. “You don’t even know hi—”

  His hand clamps my jaw. “I need you to try.” His grip grows tighter, causing me to wince. “You have to try to conquer this. Not for me and not for Cain, but for you.”

  It’s not so much his words, but the conviction behind them. It’s almost like he wants this for me even more than I do.

  It’s also the first time he’s treated me like I’m not part of whatever his agenda with Cain is, but an actual person.

  “I might have another panic attack,” I whisper, shame coating my insides. “I’ve already embarrassed us both once today and—”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” He dips his head slightly and my heart rate quickens, gaining momentum by the second. “You can do this, Eden. But you won’t know unless you try. You have to want it.”

  I do. I want to be normal so bad I can taste it.

  “Swear you won’t leave me in that room all alone? Because I don’t think I can handle—”

  “I won’t leave your side unless you want me to.”

  “Okay,” I breathe. “I’ll do it.”

  In the grand scheme of things, my life can’t get much worse. Not only is a ruthless asshole holding me captive, the man I love is marrying someone else…and the happy couple wants me dead.

  I might as well throw another lo
g on the fire and go out in a blaze of glory by attempting to conquer my anxiety disorder along the way.

  Take some control back over my life.

  Easier said than done. Because I know once I’m in that room I’m going to want to run for the hills again.

  And I have absolutely no idea how I’ll remain intact once I see him.

  Correction…them.

  I rub the knot forming in my chest. God, it hurts. Whenever the anger I’m harboring for him eases up the slightest bit…a swell of pain comes rushing in to seal the void, filling all the crevices of my broken heart.

  I wish my resentment and hate could wash out all my feelings for Cain.

  But that’s not the way it works.

  Love isn’t powerful because it builds and restores.

  It’s powerful because it survives destruction.

  “I forgot to give this to you in the car.” Much to my bewilderment, Damien shoves a small velvet box in my hand. “Put it on.”

  I open it cautiously, fully anticipating whatever’s in the box will bite my finger off. I honestly wouldn’t put it past him at this point.

  However, what I uncover is…far more perplexing.

  Confusion fills me as I stare down at the large opal stone surrounded by tiny diamonds in a halo setting. The ring is gorgeous, but I’m stumped as to why he’s giving it to me.

  Damien folds his arms across his chest, seemingly annoyed with my silence. “It’s opal.”

  “I know. It’s—”

  “Your birthstone.” I’m not sure what to make of the expression on his face. “Someone once told me opal was good luck for those born in October. Helps ward off evil spirits or some shit.”

  I fight back the urge to inform him that this one must be defective given he’s still here, because I’m still having trouble understanding why he would do something so nice for me. “Why—”

  “I’m leveling the playing field.” With a huff, he takes it out and slips it on my left ring finger. “As of this moment, you’re officially my fiancée.” There’s a mocking glint in his eyes as the corner of his mouth curves up. “You’re welcome.”

  I feel like someone just poured a bucket of ice water down the front of my dress. “I’m not marrying you.”

  “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.” His teeth flash white. “Your fifteen minutes are up, Mrs. King.”

  “I don’t recall Satan ever having a wife,” I mutter under my breath as he takes hold of my arm.

  And if the Devil was even half as cold-hearted and mean spirited as Damien King is...it was for the best.

  “That’s because he tossed her off the balcony and cut his losses when he had the chance. Now start walking before I drag you in there.”

  I hate him.

  I hate them both.

  My legs shake as we make our way past the lobby and into a much bigger room holding at least half the town. Due to the large line forming at the front, the people entering are all packed like sardines in the back of the room—which is fine by me.

  I look down at my shoes. If I keep my head down the entire time maybe it won’t be half as bad as I imagined.

  “Stop staring at the floor,” Damien hisses in my ear. “Hold your head high and make every last one of these motherfuckers eat shit.”

  That’s easy for him to say, he walks into a room commanding respect and people hand it right over.

  People like me aren’t as fortunate. No one respects the home-wrecking town whore.

  Even when she’s not…because perception is everything.

  “I’m just trying to get through this the best I can,” I whisper to my unassuming black heels, my voice cracking.

  “Look at me.”

  Lifting my head, I meet his eyes. His expression is full of disdain, but for once, it’s not directed at me.

  “There’s not a person here who would dare to disrespect you. Not in my presence.” Those blue orbs are like laser beams zeroing in on potential targets as he looks around the room. “And if by chance someone is stupid enough to test that theory, I’ll shove my cock down their throat and make them choke on it.”

  The tiny hairs on my arms rise. Damien is out of his mind, but there’s something strangely appealing about his no fucks given attitude.

  He lets go of my arm and snatches my hand as a large group of people shuffle past us. Now that it’s not so claustrophobic and I’m no longer staring at my shoes, I can see the casket in the front of the room.

  “Don’t funerals usually take place at a graveyard?”

  My heart lurches as my thoughts flicker to my mom’s. I could only stomach the first few minutes before I had to leave. Fortunately, Cain was prepared and had a driver on standby, ready to take me back home.

  “Funeral, memorial. Same shit.” Damien lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “They’re roasting him after we leave if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  The people standing next to us bristle.

  I open my mouth to speak, but the couple paying their respects to the dearly departed turn around and the entire room sways.

  I watch in agony as Cain drapes his arm around Margaret, gently leading her away. They look so comfortable together—it’s almost as if they’ve been an item for years.

  Tears well in my eyes when I notice the black silk tie he’s wearing. The one I got him for his last birthday. He looks as handsome and distinguished as ever.

  Without a care in the world.

  “I’m leaving.” I don’t care if Damien tries to punish me or how angry he gets. The organ in my chest can’t take the sight of him with her.

  “Like hell you are,” he seethes in my ear.

  “It’s too hard.”

  I try to untangle my hand from his, but Damien clutches it tighter. “Look, Eden, there are two types of people in this world. Those who are capable of greatness, but don’t bother trying. And those who still try even though they’re not capable of greatness. Which one are you?”

  His words root me to the spot. Not because they’re inspiring…but because I’ve heard them before.

  “I…wh—” My voice stalls as Cain and Margaret start walking toward the back of the room.

  The look on Cain’s face when he spots us is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. And when those irate brown eyes land on me, I can’t help but notice a hint of something simmering beneath the surface.

  Something I never expected to see, given the circumstances …betrayal.

  Damien smirks as his glare locks with Cain’s. “It’s showtime.”

  Chapter 13

  Damien

  One of my favorite things to do is watch my piranha right before mealtime.

  I admire the way he examines the pretty fish diligently, his gaze never wavering. How he never gets impatient or tries to rush the process. Quite the contrary—he appears tranquil. At peace.

  Because he knows mealtime is only a few short minutes away.

  And even though the other fish might fool themselves into thinking the divider is there to protect them…he knows the truth.

  The divider is only there so his food can get comfortable in their habitat and be at ease…right before he strikes.

  That’s why he’s so calm. It’s easy to remain composed when you’re the one in control and you have all the power.

  It’s easy to deceive others when you know you’ll always have the upper hand.

  After Cain pulled the rug out from under me, I used to spend my time wondering why he took it so far.

  Why he used me and then turned on me when he was the one person I would have done anything for.

  However, as time passed and my obsession with getting even grew, I stopped wondering.

  Because I understood.

  When someone strips you of your dignity—when they take away your power and control...

  When they hurt you so much you no longer register pain.

  You’ll do anything to get your humanity back.

  Including destroying others…through
whatever means necessary.

  It’s an intoxicating, primitive feeling, realizing you’re in complete control of someone’s last breaths. That you and you alone are responsible for every last morsel of life seeping out of them.

  But you don’t always have to commit murder to kill someone.

  You just have to plant a few seeds…and wait for them to bloom.

  Chapter 14

  Eden

  No one says a word as Cain and Damien continue staring each other down. The hatred between them is so thick I can taste it. Which can only mean one thing.

  Whatever their issue is—it’s personal. Not business like I originally suspected.

  Cain’s eyes narrow when he looks at me again. I can practically feel the words burning on his tongue before he speaks.

  “Are you okay?”

  I glare at him. Why would he give a shit about my well-being when he and his fiancée want me dead?

  “You’re kidding me, right?” The spite in my voice surprises me, but there’s no way I’m going to apologize for it. “You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested.”

  A flash of confusion sweeps across Cain’s expression before he pales. “I know you’re angry with me, but don’t make up lies—”

  “Is there a problem here?” Margaret questions, pursing her lips.

  The way she’s sizing me up makes it clear her question is directed at me.

  It’s all I can do not to punch her in the face.

  As if on cue, my limbs start shaking and my vision becomes hazy. A public confrontation at a funeral for a beloved member of Black Hallows is the last thing I want.

  A spike of adrenaline shoots up my spine, urging me to run out and go somewhere safe, but I’m so tired of hiding from my problems.

  I’m tired of being someone’s dirty secret. I’m tired of not confronting people for their horrible actions.

  I’m tired of the man I love using me for his own needs and then tossing me away like garbage.

  And I’m not going to stand here and let Cain’s latest whore hire someone to hurt me, preen around town on his arm like she’s the best thing that ever happened to him, and then speak to me in a condescending tone.