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

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The Devil's Advocate: Devil's Playground Duet #2 Page 17

by Ashley Jade


  “Okay, got it. You fucked the same girls together,” I bite out.

  I don’t want to crucify him, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy hearing about all the girls that came before me. Nerves bunch in my stomach as Katrina’s words from earlier flash through my head.

  “Did one of the girls die? Is that what Katrina meant?”

  The groove in his forehead deepens. “Cain and I only shared one girl. A science teacher named Mrs. Miller. She…I can’t really explain it. Kristy was special. Gorgeous and haunting at the same time. But I wasn’t in love with her. There wasn’t a connection, just a mutual respect for one another. She didn’t judge me or try to change me, and I didn’t judge or change her. But if I needed someone, I knew she’d be there. With no pretenses or bullshit. In a way, she was probably the closest thing to a mother I ever had.”

  My stomach rolls. “That’s—”

  “Disturbing? Yeah, probably. But neither of us cared. It was what it was. I had my own issues and she had hers. Our demons got along well together…until Cain’s took over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Things started off fun between the three of us. But then it took a turn. A dark one.”

  “How so?”

  His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath. “Cain took it too far. He started hurting her during sex, and not in a good way. He stopped teasing her…stopped caring whether or not she got off. It was almost like he was taking all his anger out on her. At first, I thought he was doing it to validate his masculinity or some shit since we’d started messing around without her. But it was deeper than that.”

  His statement sits heavy on my chest. “Did you do anything to stop it?”

  “I’m not the type of person to babysit others and make decisions for them. I don’t like getting involved in people’s personal shit. However, I reminded Kristy that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to…and eventually, I stopped inviting her over altogether.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  Even though he didn’t want to interfere, it’s clear he was trying to protect her from Cain.

  “Not really.” There’s a twinge of regret in his voice. “I wish I could say it was solely for her best interest, but my feelings for Cain were running rampant at that point. It was more than friendship. More than romance. Hell, more than sex. I wanted to save him from himself. Pull him back from the edge.” He averts his gaze. “I thought I was helping him, but all I ended up doing was creating a monster.”

  “Kind of like Frankenstein.”

  “Exactly.” He props himself on his arms, hovering above me. “But he was my monster, Eden. I couldn’t turn my back on him.”

  I touch his face. Damien needs to know Cain’s issues aren’t his fault. “Loving a monster doesn’t make you one.”

  He turns away from my touch as though I’ve burned him, then raises one of his arms off the floor. The opening he’s granting me implies this is my chance to go if I want.

  But I don’t. I want to stay right here on this floor with him.

  I want him to continue bearing his soul to me…so I can find a way to make it better.

  “You’re not a monster,” I whisper, bringing his arm back down. “Cain might be, but not you.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Eden. Cain’s one level of evil, and I’m another,” he rasps, his voice rough. “But you’re not. You’ve never been. And that right there is the monumental difference between us. You’re inherently good. But I’m not and neither is Cain.”

  We’ll agree to disagree on that. I’ve been on the receiving end of both Damien’s good and bad side. And while Damien might think he’s a monster who’s inherently bad…I know he’s not.

  He’s more like a piranha. Scary and deadly? Absolutely.

  But he doesn’t strike…not unless he’s provoked or he’s hungry and you get too close.

  Or when he’s protecting someone he loves.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t judge you for killing his father and brother. I know you only did it because you thought it would—”

  “I didn’t kill them.”

  I swallow. “You didn’t?”

  It’s not that I don’t believe him, I’m just…incredibly confused.

  There’s a storm brewing in his eyes when he looks at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I would have. Hell, I even told him how I would do it during a private moment he initiated…if you catch my drift.” Anger tightens his features. “Unbeknownst to me, he recorded our conversation and blackmailed me with it. I thought I was getting through to him. I thought we were a team. But in the end, he was only seducing me and intentionally leading me on. It wasn’t real…none of it was real. And he made sure to get rid of me the moment I no longer served a purpose in his life.”

  He bows his head. The muscles in his nape pull tight with tension. “I loved him…he was my best friend, Eden. I would have killed…hell, I would have died for him. But he discarded me like trash…just like my mom. He held a fucking gun up to my face and said my choices were jail, death, or leaving town. My heart wanted death, but my body chose self-preservation, so I left the country.”

  I blow out a heavy breath as my own heart cramps and twists for him. I knew Cain was fucked up. But this?

  “I’m…Jesus. I don’t know what to say.” I place his hand on my chest, over the organ stinging with injustice. Sometimes there aren’t any words to convey exactly what it is you feel, but I try anyway. “It’s hurting for you. For what he did to you.”

  He rubs the spot with his thumb. “I didn’t tell you any of this to cause you pain.”

  “I know.” I skim his jaw and he leans into my touch. “But I want it.”

  Part of caring about someone is accepting their flaws and their pain. Carrying bits and pieces of it with you, so they don’t have to bear all of it on their own.

  “Eden…” I feel his entire body tense. It’s torture for him…being this vulnerable. Being this close to another person after the way his mother treated him, and what Cain did to him.

  But I’m not out to hurt Damien. I want to give him what he deserves.

  A friend. A lover. Someone willing to take on some of his pain…not inflict any more.

  “Damien,” I whisper, lightly trailing a finger down his back. “It’s okay to let someone in again. I won’t hurt you.”

  They say the Devil was once an angel.

  But no one ever bothered to ask the Devil what led to his downfall, or why he became so evil.

  No one wants to hear his side of the story…because no one cares.

  But I do.

  Damien closes his eyes, still fighting it.

  He doesn’t want to be touched or cared for…even though he deserves it.

  I can empathize because I didn’t want him to bring me back to life, either…I didn’t want to see the truth.

  But I’m so grateful he showed me.

  The day he contacted me on that app, pretending to be the man I loved…was the beginning of my metamorphosis.

  It hurt like hell, but it was worth it in the end. Because now I’m wiser and stronger. I’ve got scars, but those scars give me tough skin.

  All because Damien saw me. Not the Eden everyone else saw.

  “You don’t have to be a ghost anymore.” I cup his cheek, forcing him to look at me. “I see you. I feel you. I—”

  Snarling, he grabs my wrist. For a brief moment, I think my piranha is going to bite me.

  But then it happens. His mouth finds mine and his arms wrap around me so tightly all the air in my lungs rushes out.

  His kiss is turmoil and his body is a violent wave, sucking me under.

  My insides swoop when he pulls back and looks at me in that way only he can before his mouth dips lower. His stubble prickles my skin as he sucks and bites the tender flesh of my neck.

  I grip the back of his head. “More.”

  Tension in my core tightens when he pushes my dress up and tugs on the fabric of my bra, causing my breast
to pop out. Shivers of desire race through me when his mouth descends and he pulls my nipple into his mouth, laving wet circles around the puckered bud before giving the other the same attention.

  “Damien,” I breathe, pulling off his jacket and then tugging open his shirt so I can feel his warm skin against mine.

  His hands tangle in my hair as he maps kisses up my throat before finding my mouth again. His tongue is greedy, urgent.

  “Need you inside me.” I lift my hips, grinding against his bulge. I know he’s trying to take his time and make sure it’s good for me…but that’s not what either of us really wants. It’s not what he needs. “Fuck me.”

  I spread my thighs wider and his hands pull at my panties until they’re nothing but torn scraps. I barely have time to catch my breath before his zipper is down and he’s rooted inside me, driving as deep as he can before he stills himself.

  “Eden.” My name is a dark rumble. A warning of what’s to come.

  “I want it.” I’m a glutton. I can drown in him and still it will never be enough. “I want everything.”

  A feral groan tears out of him as he starts to move. “Jesus.”

  I nip his earlobe. “That’s not my name.”

  A small smirk unfurls as he picks up his pace, fucking me so hard against the carpet my back burns. I dig my heels into his ass, spurring him on.

  Burn me. Bruise me. Mark me. Cut me.

  I’m strong enough to endure it.

  Clinging to his shoulders, I rock my hips against his as he pumps into me hard and fast. So good. Too fucking good.

  My toes curl and I claw his back as I match his savage thrusts. I let out a sharp gasp, pulsing around his cock when he hits a spot so deep, pleasure spikes through me, triggering a full-blown orgasm.

  I bite my lip, holding back a scream as the first ripple hits. Damien watches me intently, his hand clasping my jaw as I shake and tremble beneath him.

  “Eden.” The moan he lets out is guttural, coated in longing and agony as he shudders his own release.

  We lay silent for a bit, his head buried in the crook of my neck while I trace lazy circles up his back.

  As much as I wish I didn’t have to interrupt this moment with him, I have to. A burning question is still lingering between us.

  “Damien?”

  His breathing picks up, like he already knows what I’m about to ask. “Yeah?”

  “If you didn’t kill them…who did?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls us into a sitting position, locking his hands around my waist.

  “According to the police…Mrs. Miller did.”

  Why in the world would their teacher—who they were sleeping with— kill Cain’s family?

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It doesn’t,” he agrees. “Part of that is my fault.”

  My mouth goes dry. “How?”

  I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “When Cain was called in for questioning, he told the detective—who’s now Chief Trejo—that his twin brother Caleb and I were the ones involved with Mrs. Miller. He claimed she started the fire because she didn’t want her husband to find out about the affair and Caleb was threatening to expose it.”

  “That’s…” Bile rises up my throat. “Why would he do that?”

  I’m not stupid, it’s obvious Cain’s lying in order to cover up something.

  My intuition doesn’t just whisper the truth. It slaps me in the face with it.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Before I get into it, I need to ask you something.” He tips my chin. “After you saw us in the conference room, what was your first thought?”

  I have no idea why he’s asking me this when there are more pressing issues at play, but I answer him anyway. “Pain and betrayal…jealousy. I thought maybe you were both playing me. Then I thought maybe you were manipulating Cain and blackmailing him like he claimed. And then—”

  “That’s all I need to know,” he interjects, cutting me off.

  “Are you angry?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Like I said earlier, I don’t blame you.” He sighs heavily. “But it also means I’m not the person you should be asking for the truth.”

  I raise an eyebrow, not understanding his logic. “You think Cain’s just going to come clean about murdering his family?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Probably not.” His shoulder hitches. “But I want you to think for yourself and come to your own conclusions about what happened. I know what it’s like when feelings get in the way…it makes it hard to see things objectively and separate the person you loved from the killer he really is.”

  He’s right, but Cain killing the people who abused him isn’t what has me tied up in knots.

  It’s the backstabbing, manipulating…the innocent people he hurt.

  Because deep down inside…that’s who Cain is. It’s who he’s always been.

  I’m just finally seeing him without my rose-colored glasses.

  Same goes for Damien.

  “I believe you when you say you didn’t kill them. I can even see Cain seducing you and then setting you up.” And ugly feeling crawls up my gut. “The only thing that doesn’t make sense to me…is why he pinned it on your teacher when he had the perfect fall guy already.”

  If Damien helped throw that teacher under the bus for murder in order to help Cain cover it up? Now is his time to come clean.

  Because then I’ll know for once and all what kind of person he is.

  And how this might end for me.

  Our gazes lock. “Did you help him set her up?”

  My heart stops cold when he falls silent.

  “Yeah,” he says finally. “I did.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Detective Trejo told me what Cain’s version of events were when he brought me in for questioning. At the time, I didn’t know Cain had secretly recorded me detailing how I would kill his family or that he’d end up blackmailing me with it.” His voice is barely audible as he continues. “But I covered for him, I told Trejo it was Caleb and not Cain.”

  He stands up. “When Trejo said Kristy kept insisting it was Cain…I told him she was only saying that because Cain was alive, and Caleb wasn’t. That it was easier for her defense to claim she was sleeping with the twin who still had a pulse.”

  Jesus. “Dam—”

  “I know. Trust me, I know how wrong it was.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I won’t ever deny my part in this. I also won’t stand here and claim I’m innocent because I tried to throw Trejo off the scent by blaming the murder on her abusive husband…because it doesn’t matter. Her piece of shit husband bailed her out of jail…and then she was gone.”

  He bows his head. “She was my friend. But she died…because I chose Cain.” His voice is laced with so much guilt he’s practically choking on it. “She was a good woman. A kind, innocent soul who didn’t deserve the ending she got. But she’s dead, because of me.” His blue orbs hold mine and he punches his chest.

  “And that’s something I have to live with. Her death is on me.”

  “No, it’s not,” I tell him as I stand up.

  I’m not diminishing the role Damien played in all this, but he’s taking full responsibility for something that doesn’t fall on him.

  “Cain told Trejo it was Mrs. Miller, correct?”

  He nods.

  “And her husband killed her? You said he was abusive and bailed her out of jail, so I assum—”

  “That’s what they say happened.” There’s an edge to his tone.

  “Look, you already know what you did was wrong. But the way I see it—if you take yourself out of the equation, it still would have happened. Even if Trejo didn’t bring you in for questioning, she still would have been in jail because of Cain. And even if she wasn’t in jail…it sounds like her husband was going to kill her sooner or later.” I palm his cheek. “It’s sad and tragic, and you’re right—she didn’t deserve to die. It sucks that she did. You might not have saved her, Damien
. But you didn’t kill her either.”

  He starts to protest, but I hold up a hand. Damien’s going to continue blaming himself no matter what, and we can work through that later. Right now, we have to come up with a plan before it’s too late. The election’s less than three days away.

  Anger races over my skin. “We have to clear your name and take Cain down before he has you arrested for murders you didn’t commit.”

  I don’t want Damien to end up like his teacher turned ex-lover did. I don’t want to see him in jail. Or worse, dead.

  I’m not sure what to make of the expression on his face. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic, or if you actually value my input.”

  There’s a smug smile on his face as he buttons his shirt. “With the way you were going to gut me before, I’d say my little lamb has officially become the slaughterer and should probably take the lead on this one.”

  I give him a smile of my own. One that conveys how pissed off I am about what I walked in on. “It would do you well to remember that, King. Because the next time I see your dick in someone’s mouth without my permission—”

  “It was a power play. The second he started choking on it, I kicked him in the nuts and found you. I just wanted him to know there were no feelings left over for him on my end…except hatred.”

  Well, that certainly changes things. “Oh.” My pulse quickens when his gaze falls to my torn panties on the floor and he takes a step closer. I have to remind myself to stay focused on the plan and not his sex eyes.

  “I wish there was a way to get him to confess so we can record it.” I chew my lip as the wheels in my head start turning. “Are we having the ball at the castle again?”

  He slips on his jacket. “I can arrange that if you think it will help.”

  “Yes. Home turf is always best.” I slide my heels on. “I know I can manipulate Cain, especially if I can get him alone…but not enough to confess to murder. Knowing him, he’ll walk out the second he realizes it’s a trap.”

  “What if you tie him up?”

  I think about this for a moment. “I don’t know. Cain’s stubborn. I don’t think he’ll confess whether he’s bound or not.”

 

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