Demon's Plaything (13 page)

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Authors: Lydia Rowan

Tags: #Contemporary Interracial Romance

BOOK: Demon's Plaything
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“That’s it?” he said, and Shayla was for some reason shocked that she still had the capacity to be shocked by his narcissism.

“That’s it. And it comes with strings,” she said.

He perked up and stood straight, flashing that smile. “I know. I’m gonna do better this time, and I’ll pay you back, with interest! This is a brand-new me, Shayla. I’m serious.”

“I hope so; I really do. But that’s not the string.”

He raised a brow. “What do you need?”

She took a deep breath. “I need you to be gone. For good. I want you out of my life.”

“That’s not you talking, Shay. Old boy must have put the dick down good, ’cause this don’t even sound like you.”

She chose to ignore his crudeness, a sure sign that he was getting annoyed and defensive, though he tried to cover it with his unending charm.

“Oh it’s me all right.”

“And what about Nana? That woman loves me. It’ll kill her if I’m gone.”

“She doesn’t have much time left; even you can see that. I want her focusing on her health, enjoying whatever time she has left and not worrying about rescuing you, or having me try, but when…after she’s gone, you’re out of my life completely.”

“God, I wish my grandmother hadn’t raised me so well!” he said. “I can’t call you the heartless bitch you are, Shayla.”

Any other time, his words would have hurt, but now, save a ripple of mild curiosity, they didn’t make a dent.

“Why do you think I’m a heartless bitch?”

“You’ve always looked down on me, thought you were better. It made you feel good to compare yourself to me and feel superior, and now for whatever reason, you’ve decided you don’t need to anymore, so you’re kicking me out. That’s pretty fucking heartless.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, unable to formulate any other response.

“That’s all you have to say?” he asked incredulously.

“Yep. That’s all.”

“You’re even worse than I thought. Nana’s not stupid, Shayla. She’ll be able to tell. Can’t you hear her now, wondering why we aren’t as close as we used to be, trying to get us to be friends?”

That image did impact Shayla. Nana
would
wonder, and she might even believe that Shayla was at fault. That thought had her lips turning down in what she knew was a grim frown, and Ian seized the opening.

“See, think about it, Shayla. You know we need to put this behind us, be together now, be a family.”

Maybe he had a point. Maybe Nana did need them working together. Her gaze flitted left as she vacillated from one thought to the next, wanting to keep her resolve, but worried that Ian might be right. Then she remembered Nana’s words.

“I also told you to pick your battles.”

The words zipped around her brain.

“She said we have to pick our battles,” she said quietly. Then, more forcefully, “She said we have to pick our battles. I’ve picked, Ian.”

Saying the words restored her resolve. Eventually, Shayla might miss him, but she believed she was doing the right thing. If she wasn’t, she’d face the consequences, something Ian had never quite figured out how to do. For now, this was her decision and she wouldn’t be swayed. She stared at Ian, who was silent for the first and only time, unyielding.

“So you just decided, huh? ‘Fuck Ian. He’s out’?” he yelled a moment later, his increasing agitation clear.

“I don’t have the energy to explain any better, but that you don’t understand what you did, what you almost cost me, says it all. You did this. Not me or Nana or Demon or anyone else. Just you.”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “And you want me to swallow this, be totally cool with my sister writing me off for a measly five grand.”

She laughed mirthlessly. Only Ian could sound insulted by an offer while simultaneously negotiating it.

“That’s it, Ian. Forever.”

“Fine.” He nodded, but she could see his wheels turning.

“And don’t even think of asking Nana for more. It’s over, Ian. We’re done. Both of us. All of us. If you ever cared anything for us, you’ll accept that.”

A few weeks ago, her heart would have broken, and she would have done anything to keep them together, to keep from saying those words. She’d almost been too late, had almost let Ian ruin her. And it hurt her soul-deep to lose the brother she’d loved so very much, but it couldn’t be any other way. He’d proven that he could only bring destruction, and she had to let him go.

He stood silent for a moment, unbelieving as if he expected her to fold like she usually did. But as the moments passed, realization seemed to hit, and he finally said, “It’s like that, huh?”

Defiant to the end, but what else could she expect from the brother she knew so well?

“It is how you made it, Ian.”

She walked to him, squeezed him tight, and then stepped away.

“I love you, little brother. Good-bye.”

She got in her car and drove home.

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Demon felt a little creepy and stalkerish, but he didn’t have any other choice. Shayla hadn’t been home earlier, and so overwhelming was his desire, need, to see her that sitting in his car to wait for her was the only answer. Now, two hours later, he was beginning to question that decision. She could be at the hospital; hell she could be anywhere, and he had no idea when she would return.

Or if she wanted to see him.

Their last conversation hadn’t ended well, and he knew, without a doubt, that she’d be furious about his interference with Ian. But it had to be done. It was the least he could do for the woman he loved.

As if conjured by his thoughts, he saw her turn into her driveway, park, and walk to the house. She seemed weary, but there was a lightness in her step, in her face that he hadn’t seen since that very first day. He waited until she’d closed and locked the door, suddenly nervous. A quick glance into the rearview mirror only heightened the feeling. He still wasn’t quite used to the face that stared back at him, so he wasn’t sure how Shayla would respond. Add to it the fact that he was about to lay his heart on the line, and she might very well crush it, and well, he was a bit out of sorts.

But there was nothing to do but try. All he could hope was that she needed him as much as he needed her.

••••

Shayla had just settled on the sofa when she heard a knock at the door. She knew it wasn’t Ian, so that left one other option. Before she could blink, a smile spread across her face, and her heart soared. She practically ran to the door, only deeply ingrained habit making her check the peephole. Laughing out loud, she opened the door.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked playfully and was rewarded with a sly smile.

“We’ve met a time or two.”

“Wait, I recognize that voice.” She titled her head and squinted. “Is that…Demon, just Demon?”

He laughed, walked in, and closed the door. “It’s not that dramatic of a change, Shayla.”

“Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me. You cut your hair and shaved and your suit is an elegant, refined showcase instead of a garish freak show of subpar taste. You’re like an entirely different person.”

“Nope, same person, different wrapping,” he said softly, and her mirth fled. “Do you like it?”

“I do. But why the change?”

“It was time. It’s been time for a while.”

Suspicion rose, and she crossed her arms and asked, “And does Elah Avakian have something to do with this realization?”

“Yes.”

She pursed her lips. “No, Demon. I won’t be a part of that world. I’m not cut out for it.”

“Please, just hear me out, okay?”

She paused a beat and then nodded.

“I’m not cut out for that world, either. Never was really. Elah more or less made that clear but not in those words exactly. So I’m just an average working Joe now.”

“So in the past month or so, you changed from a ‘promoter’ on the fringes of the criminal underworld to an average working Joe?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes and walked to the couch. “I need to be sitting for this.”

He sat next to her and grabbed her hand. A thrill ran through her at the contact, and it hit her again, hard, how much she’d missed him.

“It’s just not the same anymore, and, as you proved, I can’t stand by and watch people get hurt. Not anymore.”

“But you did it for years.”

“Yes, but those people knew what they were signing up for. People like you, good people who are victims of circumstance…I couldn’t have handled it. I think I’ve known that for a long time.”

“And Elah?”

“He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

“No comment. Continue please,” she said.

“He actually gave me the idea, said I was a solid, smart guy, asked me if I wanted a job”—she raised a brow—“a clean job. Almost literally.”

She quirked a brow.

“I’m going to be running the metal-recycling facility.”

Her quirked brow dropped to a furrow. “But do you know anything about that?”

“Sure I do. I’ve spent a ton of time there; the guys used it as an unofficial training gym, for years actually. It was my unofficial office. I picked up some things. And I have ideas.”

The enthusiasm in his eyes was infectious, and she found herself laughing.

“What? I had a lot of free time and when Elah suggested it, it seemed a natural fit.”

“And the suit?”

“Oh, I got his tailor’s name too.” He looked down at the black sleeves of his suit coat. “I’m gonna go broke if I get more than two of these things.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you look amazing,” she said as she stroked his shorn locks.

“So it’s that simple?” she asked

“God, I hope so,” he responded.

She pulled her hand away and looked him in the eyes.

“I saw Ian tonight.”

He went still, waiting for her to continue.

“He told me what you said.”

“And…?”

“And…thank you. And I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

Relief flooded his eyes, and she slid close to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his chest, the boom of his heartbeat and his scent wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth.

“You were right. Much as it pains me to say, as much as my independent woman wants to be mad at you for meddling in my family behind my back, you were right. I’ve known it for a long time, known that Ian was poison, but it was just so hard, you know? He wasn’t always… It didn’t used to be…” She trailed off and the soothing stroke of his hand on her back calmed her.

“I gave him five thousand dollars and told him that this was it and that once Nana—that soon he’ll be out of my life.”

He squeezed her tight.

“What an asshole,” Demon said a moment later, the words rumbling through his chest.

She pulled back and looked up at him.

“What?”

“I’d already given him ten.”

They both laughed, and then she said, “I should have figured as much. But Ian isn’t the type to turn down a dollar.”

“And did he agree?”

“I think so, but it doesn’t matter. I’m done.”

He grabbed her hand again, stroked a thumb across her palm.

“I’m sorry, Shayla.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m not sorry for what I did. I’m just sorry you had to lose your brother. I know that sucks.”

His emotion shined behind his warm eyes, and she leaned in to hug him again, unashamed of her desire to bask in his strength and warmth.

They stayed that way for a long time and then Demon stiffened and patted her back, urging her to sit up.

“Wait here a minute. I’ll be right back,” he said as he stood and walked toward the front door.

Shayla couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off her face as she waited, and when he returned, he was carrying a plastic animal traveler with the local animal shelter’s logo on it. She narrowed her eyes as he put the traveler on the floor, opened the door, and retrieved the occupant.

A tiny, fluffy ball of brown fur leaped from his hand and ran directly toward her. Automatically, she reached out and grabbed the tiny kitten, stroking its soft fur.

“You bought me a cat?”

“I bought
us
a cat,” he corrected as he walked back to the couch and stood in front of her.

Seemingly bored with Shayla, the cat scrambled out of her hands and back into the traveler, apparently content to be left alone for the moment. Both she and Demon laughed at the sight.

A few seconds later, she looked up at him and said, “So there’s an ‘us,’ eh?”

His green eyes flashed, and he smiled. “There is if you want there to be.”

Shayla’s heart pounded, and she stood, needing to be eye to eye with him, or at least as eye to eye as was possible given his superior height.

“I work a lot.”

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