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

by Ashley Jade

  His promise does nothing to ease my anxiety—in fact, it only heightens it—but I appreciate the sentiment.

  “I will,” I tell him coolly.

  I’m not dumb enough to think this wasn’t a last-minute test to see how I respond under pressure.

  Even so, I damn near whimper at the loss when he removes his hand.

  Smirking, he licks his thumb. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 23

  Cain

  Everyone waits with bated breath for William Anderson—the head of Covey’s political party and his former right-hand man—to grace us with his presence and finally announce who my new opponent is.

  Why it’s turned into such a dramatic song and dance is beyond me. And the fact that Governor Bexley still doesn’t know who will be running against me is…worrisome.

  The air in Black Hallows Hall—the main event room where we hold public meetings—feels stuffier than usual.

  I go to loosen my tie, but Margaret reaches for my hand. I fight the urge to retract it. She’s been clingier than usual since last night—when we fucked for the first time. Or rather, I fucked her while she laid limp like a dead fish on my living room couch, criticizing my every move.

  Thoughts of Eden seducing me in the very same spot were the only thing that got me through the horrid experience without putting my head through the wall.

  The tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle as the energy in the room shifts. I assume it’s because someone spotted Anderson—the tardy schmuck—but when I turn my head to the left, I see exactly what’s captured everyone’s attention.

  My eyes narrow as Damien and Eden saunter up the middle row. Damien, the cocky showoff, is wearing his usual smart-ass smirk and a dark three-piece suit that cost more than most mortgages, but it’s Eden that has people talking.

  There’s something different about her. Other than her sexy silk dress and red heels that have me scrambling to adjust myself.

  She walks with a confident, almost regal air—oblivious to all the whispering her appearance has caused.

  That’s when it dawns on me.

  She’s in a room full of people. Not crumbling and hyperventilating in a corner somewhere.

  Gritting my teeth, I drop Margaret’s hand and loosen my tie, eyeing them both as they take their seats on the opposite side of the room.

  This isn’t good.

  Not only did Eden fail to distract Damien and keep him away like I specifically instructed her to—he’s somehow managed to undo the screws I carefully bolted into place.

  I didn’t loan him Eden to fix her.

  I loaned her so he can see what he’s partially responsible for.

  I clutch the side of the bench. Keep your eye on the prize—I remind myself.

  Eden and Damien will have to wait until later. I have more important things to worry about right now.

  Like the dumbass reckless enough to try to run against me.

  I snort as it hits me. I’ll bet my right nut Damien made a large donation to the fool’s campaign. Which would explain why he’s here.

  The motherfucker wants to gloat, but he’d be better off taking his contribution and flushing it down the toilet, where it belongs.

  Unless it’s Jesus himself taking Covey’s place, the people of Black Hallows are already in agreement as to who they want their new mayor to be.

  Yours truly.

  Just then Anderson—the slow imbecile—makes his way to the podium. “Afternoon, everyone. I know you’re all anxious for the big announcement, but first, let’s go over some things, shall we?”

  I roll my eyes. Cut to the goddamn chase already.

  The four-eyed asswipe produces a piece of paper from his pocket. “I know some of you were wondering why we chose a candidate instead of holding another primary election, so I want to clear that up. Article Fifteen of the Black Hallows town handbook states that if a candidate dies within ten days of the scheduled election, his political party may nominate a new candidate. And as long as the nominee has the majority vote from the committee, a public vote shall not be required.”

  He adjusts his glasses. “The handbook also states polling day can be postponed an additional seven days or longer at the committee’s request. As you all know, the big day was slated to be this Tuesday, November sixth, but in light of the tragic events, polling day has now been rescheduled for November thirteenth.”

  “That’s not so bad,” Margaret whispers. “It’s only ten days away.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s right. Ten days isn’t enough time to sway voters.

  People tend to stick with what they know…who they’re comfortable with.

  My gaze drifts to Eden, but it’s so crowded all I can see is the back of her head.

  Anderson clears his throat. “Due to the election’s extenuating circumstances, the schedule will be a bit different. In an effort to help you get to know your new candidate, we’ve set up a few fundraising events, luncheons, meetings, and of course, a debate between the two candidates over the course of next week.” He smiles wide. “The town will also be assembling a masquerade ball the night before the election.” We all stifle groans as he adds, “In honor of the late Mr. Covey and his wife’s favorite event.”

  “It’s not like he’ll be attending the damn thing,” I mutter under my breath and Margaret pokes me.

  Anderson’s expression turns serious. “I was fortunate to work alongside Mr. Covey for the last ten years. I considered him one of my closest friends and one of the best things to happen to politics.” He blows out a heavy breath. “I know his death came as a shock, but I need you all to know he never wanted to give up—though his body did. And even as he grew sicker, he never stopped fighting for his town. He knew his time was coming to an end, and his last few weeks were spent searching for his perfect replacement. Luckily, God answered his prayers and he found one in the nick of time.”

  He scans the crowd in a dramatic fashion before his gaze rests on a small section of people seated on the other side of the room.

  “Do you think it’s Glen Dickinson?” Margaret hisses in my ear. “He’s been acting awfully strange lately. He snubbed Daddy at the funeral.”

  I look at the white-haired man seated behind Damien and shrug. “He went to school with Covey. Rumor has it they were on the debate team together and stayed close friends over the years. I suppose it’s not entirely out of the question.”

  Competing against Dickinson would be a cakewalk. No one likes the grump.

  “I’ll admit that given his past, this man may not seem like the best contender for the job,” Anderson babbles. “But I assure you he is. Not only is he a powerful businessman with a knack for making tough decisions, but David Covey had the utmost faith in him. So much faith in fact—his very last words beseeched his political party to see to it that this man take his place in the election. We’ve chosen to honor his wishes. We kindly ask you all to do the same.”

  “Glen isn’t a businessman,” Margaret whispers. “He’s an orthodontist.”

  I shift in my seat to face her. “Robert Barnes is next to him. Bastard’s been kissing Covey’s ass since they were in diapers.”

  She cringes. “You’re right. And technically he did open that shoe store on South Street, so I guess that makes him a bu—”

  Her face twists in confusion and I hear a few audible gasps behind me.

  Anderson’s next words turn my blood to ice.

  “Please welcome your new candidate—Damien King.”

  Chapter 24

  Cain

  Margaret nudges me. “You don’t look too good. Do you want some water?”

  “I don’t want any water,” I bite out.

  What I want is to run up to the podium Damien King is marching toward, take a fucking machete to his neck…and then piss down the stump that used to hold up his head.

  “I thought you two were friends?” Margaret chirps beside me. “He seemed so nice and charm—”

  “You’re ev
en more of a moron then I thought if you believe a single thing that comes out of his two-faced mouth,” I snap, and she purses her lips.

  My head pulses. It’s getting harder to breathe. I pride myself on being one step ahead, but I never predicted this.

  How could I? Damien has no political ties and nearly everyone in town hates him.

  Sure, he’s attractive enough to seduce anyone into bed and skilled enough to keep them coming back…but beyond that, he lacks the intellect to do anything worthwhile with his life.

  Which I suppose explains why he’s here now.

  I thought he came back to taunt and provoke me. At worst, threaten to tell Eden the truth, and hell—maybe even try to kill me.

  Not actually try to take my life and make it his.

  But I can’t say I blame him. Even with all his father’s money, leftover businesses, and castles…he’s still worthless.

  His obsession with me and the pedestal he keeps me on will always be his biggest accomplishment.

  Jesus Christ. I should have killed him when I had the chance.

  Instead I had a moment of weakness and let him go…and now it’s come back to bite me in the ass.

  I’m downright seething as Damien switches places with Anderson.

  “My father used to tell me opportunity waits for no one,” he begins. “That if you want something, you have to be willing to stand up and fight for it.” His gaze locks with mine. “Even if it means going up against an old friend.”

  My blood boils as he continues. This isn’t a speech from a newly appointed candidate filled with false promises and oaths.

  It’s a personal vendetta.

  “It’s no secret I’ve known Cain Carter a long time. At one point, we were nearly inseparable. Thick as thieves. One and the same.” His teeth flash white. “I know his strengths. I know his imperfections. I know all his secrets. And by the end of this race, I predict you will all know him as intimately as I do.” His creepy blue eyes darken. “Truth be told, I never wanted to run against my best friend. I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this. But sometimes it’s not about what you want…it’s about doing what needs to be done. And I believe when it’s time to vote—the people of Black Hallows will see things clearer than they ever have before…and they will elect the very best man for the job.”

  You could hear a pin drop as Damien backs away from the podium. Even Anderson’s mouth is open so wide he’s probably catching flies.

  “Wow,” Margaret says as everyone begins to shuffle into the banquet hall for refreshments. “That was…intense.”

  No. I glare at the now empty podium. That was the start of war.

  My nostrils flare when Damien’s arm slips around Eden and he starts leading her out of the room. Attempted theft.

  I wink at my former friend and my beautiful young stepdaughter as they pass by.

  A ticking time bomb.

  Chapter 25

  Eden

  “I think he’s waving you over.” I gesture to the tall slender guy in glasses. Anderson, I think. Damien briefly mentioned on the car ride here that he was the man in charge of things behind the scenes and the one who kept everything running smoothly.

  He also said he was annoying as fuck and needed to get his dick sucked by something other than his vacuum cleaner and a blow-up doll.

  Suffice it to say, I didn’t ask him to go into any more detail about Anderson after that.

  Damien raises his glass and takes a leisurely sip, not looking at all concerned. “He can wait.”

  With that, he turns away—deliberately ignoring the man.

  I have to stifle a laugh because Anderson looks like he’s about to have a temper tantrum.

  “He’s starting to sweat,” I muse as the visibly nervous man dabs his forehead with a napkin. “He might even pop a blood vessel.”

  Damien shrugs. “If it’s so important, he can walk over here like a big boy and tell me himself. Covey might have babied him, but I sure as hell won’t.”

  I bite my bottom lip as Anderson walks forward before taking a big step back. “He looks like he’s dancing.”

  Damien’s lips quirk up. “Give it a few seconds, he’ll start pacing and muttering. After a minute or two of that, he’ll finally remember he has a set of balls and come talk to me.”

  If he does, he’ll be the first one. It’s funny how people in this town prefer to talk about you, rather than to you. Damien isn’t worried about it, though. He finds all the gossip comical.

  The gleam in his eyes ever since we arrived tells me it’s not a front either. He’s genuinely reveling in ruffling these people’s feathers.

  Especially Cain…who’s standing about fifteen feet away from us…looking increasingly ruffled by the second.

  Lucky for him, our paths haven’t crossed in the thirty minutes we’ve been here. The orange juice they’re serving is delicious, and I’d hate to waste any of it on his lying, manipulating face.

  Forcing in a breath, I stuff thoughts of him down and focus on Damien, who’s not bothering to hide his amusement.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re having fun.”

  He downs the rest of his glass. “Anderson’s nervous fits are the most interesting thing about him.”

  “I meant the election. I know you’re only doing this to get back at Cain, but maybe it’s your calling.”

  He makes a face. “Fuck that. I have no interest in politics. As soon as this is over, I’m going back home.”

  Home. On an island. Out of the country.

  Far away from Black Hallows.

  If that doesn’t put things into perspective, I don’t know what will.

  Damien and I are a temporary thing. It will hurt less after he’s gone if I stick to my own revenge plan and worry about myself.

  There are so many things I want to see in this world and so much I want to experience.

  Freedom is an equally scary and liberating thing.

  “That can’t be good,” I whisper as Governor Bexley and another man in a suit approach Anderson. “The governor just walked up to your boy and he looks like he’s about to piss his pants.”

  “Fuck.” He places his glass on a nearby waiter’s tray. “We should go over there.”

  I grimace. “I’ll stay here. I don’t want to go anywhere near that asshole Bexley unless I absolutely have to.”

  Not only is he rude. He gives me the creeps.

  “I can stay here.” He grins. “Or go over there and shove my foot up his ass.”

  “Tempting, but I’m pretty sure that would get you canned from the race.” I hold up my empty glass. “Go. I need to get more orange juice anyway.”

  He studies my face intently. I know it’s Damien’s way of checking in with me to make sure I’ll be fine. I kind of love that about him.

  “Okay,” he says after another minute passes. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  The second he walks away I want to latch onto his leg and beg him not to leave...but I won’t.

  I’ve got this. Fuck this town and fuck these people.

  Squaring my shoulders, I stroll over to the table of hors d'oeuvres and other refreshments.

  I’m in the middle of filling my glass when I feel someone come up behind me.

  “Bathroom on the third floor. Now,” Cain snarls in my ear.

  I take a dainty sip of my orange juice and then nibble a cookie.

  For once, Cain will have to wait for me. Lord knows I’ve waited long enough for him.

  I take my sweet time walking to the bathroom, knowing the second I enter I’m going to have to pretend I’m infatuated and on his side.

  I won’t accomplish anything if he thinks I’m out to get him. He’ll only push me farther away.

  Which is exactly the opposite of what I want.

  I want him so obsessed and distracted he starts screwing up.

  And then, after Damien’s destroyed him, and Cain’s left helpless, feeling like he has no one in the world to turn to but his
Eden…

  I’m going to crush him like a bug.

  No. I’m going to give him some rope and then manipulate the hell out of him until he slowly hangs himself…just like he did to me.

  Breathe—I remind myself when I reach the bathroom door.

  Breathe and feign innocence.

  My hand is steady as I turn the knob. My head is clear.

  I’ve got this.

  He’s standing by the row of sinks with his hands clenched at his sides when I enter.

  “I wanted to tell you,” I say as I approach. “But I couldn’t get my phone—”

  The sting from his hand whipping across my cheek feels like fire.

  Chapter 26

  Cain

  I realize my critical mistake the moment my palm connects with her cheekbone.

  She’s innocent.

  With all the rage building in my gut like a skyscraper, I’d forgotten Eden didn’t have access to her phone and couldn’t contact me to warn me even if she’d wanted to.

  Because I sent her away.

  And now she’s looking at me like I’m a monster…when she was only doing what I asked her to.

  If I didn’t drive her to Damien’s dick before, this will certainly do it.

  “Shit.” I kick a garbage can, sending it sailing into a stall. “Goddammit.”

  “I couldn’t text you,” she states, pressing a hand to her skin. “I—”

  “I’m sorry.” I rush over and gather her in my arms. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Actually, I do. His name is Damien King.

  She’s silent. Not even so much as a whimper or a cry escapes her.

  This isn’t like Eden. She’s slipping farther away with every second that passes.

  And it’s all Damien’s fault.

  Panicked, I drop to my knees and nuzzle her stomach. “Please forgive me.”