Mammon (Devilry #2)

17. Beelzebub

SEVENTEEN

BEELZEBUB

It’s a cold day in Hell when even sex can’t cheer me up.

Gore looks over his shoulder, frowning as I slide out of his perfect ass. “Is everything okay, Bel?”

Normally, everything would be great. I have my best friend and it usually doesn’t take more than one quick blowjob or a frenzied nut to put me in a good mood, but things have been different lately. It’s not Gore’s fault—he’s incredible, as usual—but I can’t shake the feeling like this might not be the best way to deal with my issues.

For the last week, Gore and I have been…off. Two days ago, he finally stopped crying about the whole public spanking incident and claims he’s okay, but I know better. I can tell he’s still hurting and humiliated, but it’s more than that. Everything he’s done has been coated in a thin layer of sadness, like how he doesn’t hum under his breath when he brushes his teeth anymore to the fact that he hasn’t worn any of the pretty things he owns.

I’m not any better. Fucking away my feelings about the whole thing worked for about four rounds, but now I’m just straight up pissed and refuse to take out my anger on my willing best friend. We’ve both been avoiding the object of my rage, for different reasons, and there’s only so much longer we can hide out in my room before we face Mammon.

“Did I do something?” Gore asks, flipping over onto his back as he eyes me curiously. “You can tie me on the spreader if you want. Or we can do sexy car mechanic again?”

“You’re perfect, baby. It’s not you,” I say, dragging him against my side as I kiss the back of his neck. “I’m just not in the mood.”

He rears his head back and raises a curious eyebrow. “ You’re not in the mood? I once saw you fuck a donut hole because it turned you on.”

“It was strawberry glazed,” I defend, huffing under my breath. “You didn’t seem to mind sucking my sugar-coated dick right after.”

He blushes prettily and sighs. “Yeah, I guess that was nice. Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

I think it over for a moment. While I share everything with Gore, this is something I want to keep to myself. It’s not because I don’t trust him or believe he could help me resolve these weird feelings I’m experiencing, but I don’t want to be a burden. He’s been through so much already. It would be selfish of me to put any of my issues on him. He needs to be protected at all costs, coddled at every turn, and treasured. He can put the weight of the problems on my shoulders and I’ll happily carry them.

“Everything’s fine,” I say, kissing him once more, but a knock on our door has both our heads snapping up. I curl my lip in annoyance. I told our damn brothers we wanted to be left alone. “Who is it?”

“Mammon.”

My stomach clenches. Pulse beginning to quicken, I try to school my reaction to that fucking Southern drawl of his. Gore sits up, staring at the door with wide eyes, like it’s going to explode any second. He’s thrumming with excitement as he shakes my shoulder, too eager for the person who publicly shamed him only a week ago. “Answer it, Bel.”

I stare at him for a beat before sighing and getting up. I don’t bother with clothes as I answer the door, only opening it a touch to barely make out Mammon’s figure standing in the dark hallway. “What do you want?”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Can’t I come check on you?”

I snarl. After an entire week has passed, he finally wants to check in on us? Fuck that. “No, you can’t?—”

“Yes! Yes, you can!”

I curse as Gore appears by my side, still naked as well, and swings the door fully open. He blinks up at Mammon, a sweet smile on his lips as he blushes. “We’re okay.”

We’re both the farthest from okay. I love Gore to death, but he’s a people pleaser. One of the reasons I’ve been keeping him locked away is because I knew the second he saw Mammon, he would cave. He’d go all doe-eyed the way he is now, delusional even, believing that everything is perfectly fine when it’s not. The fact that Mammon hurt him has flown out of his head and into the wind. All he sees is how much he loves the guy and, fuck me, it hurts.

And Mammon’s a fucking prick because he knows it. He’s too smart to not realize that Gore worships at his goddamn altar. He smiles warmly—victoriously—and rubs his hand against Gore’s shoulder. “Good. I thought maybe you two would like to leave the community today.”

“Can we?” Gore asks, jumping in place. “We can leave now?”

“Yes.” Mammon turns to me, not as open and a bit more cautious than he was when addressing Gore. “Beelzebub?”

I clench my jaw. I want to tell him to go fuck himself but, shit, I need to get out of this house. That doesn’t mean I have to fawn over him like my best friend, though. “Sure.”

He examines me for a moment, narrowing his blue eyes as he tries to dissect my single word. After a second, he looks back at Gore, who’s definitely the easier sell. “There’s a little event I’m hosting in the town center. I think the two of you will like it.”

“Oh! That sounds like fun!” Gore cheers and claps his hands. “Okay, just give us a few minutes to get dressed!”

Gore rushes back into our room, but I stay firmly planted at the door. Mammon cocks his head at me, all his attention focused on the angry twitch of my jaw. He looks almost amused as he clicks his tongue. “Is there a problem, Beelzebub?”

I look over my shoulder, debating for a second what to do, before I say fuck it. Taking a step into the hallway, I close the door behind me, planting my hands on my hips as I stare up at him. “Just because Gore can forgive you in a heartbeat doesn’t mean I can. You hurt him.”

In more ways than one. Physical pain can be tolerated. A body is just a body, but Mammon messed with Gore’s delicate head, and that has me seeing red. I don’t know what I’m expecting Mammon to say, but he surprises me by simply smiling. “You’re going to ruin his mood by behaving this way. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

This fucker.

My jaw drops. Is he serious? “Are you even sorry?”

“What do you think I’m doing now?” he asks as he gestures toward the door. “I’m trying to make this right.”

I snort. “This half-hearted attempt at an apology is laughable. You actually have to regret what you did for it to be genuine.”

Sighing deeply, he pinches the bridge of his nose. I don’t know how it’s meant to come across as anything but impatient. Finally, he looks up at me with those blue eyes filled with remorse. “I’m sorry, Beelzebub.”

I almost buy it. It would be so easy to accept his words and throw myself into his arms, hoping that he’d hold on tight and never let go. Maybe I would have done that before, but things are different now. Gore’s heart is on the line and my hackles are up. I narrow my eyes, searching for the truth, and scoff when I see it.

“I don’t believe you.”

There’s no way he’s being honest. Maybe he thinks he is, but that’s not good enough for me. It’s like he’s saying the words because he knows they’re right, not actually feeling the guilt and the shame he should at what he did. Honestly, it’s almost laughable.

“You know, you like to think you’re in control, but this is one thing you can’t manipulate,” I begin, stalking up to him and planting a firm finger on his chest. “Gore and I make one single person, Mammon. Do you know how easy it would be to turn him against you?”

His nostrils flare as he stares at my finger. When his eyes flick back up to mine, all that fake apology is gone. He clenches his jaw, hands twitching like he wants to reach out and strike me. “Are you threatening me?”

“It’s a warning,” I say simply. “If you don’t actually admit your mistake and mean it, you don’t want to know what our sweet princess will think of you once I’m done with him.”

Fire still burning in his expression, he clicks his tongue. “And you say I’m the manipulative one.”

I don’t hold the power I have over Gore lightly. It would be a hard sell, but I’m confident I can get him to believe whatever I want. Gore’s not an idiot, but he’s…influenceable. His grasp on reality is so loose already, it would only take a few pokes and a shove in the right direction, and he’d believe anything I say.

I suck in a smooth and easy breath. “If it means protecting Gore’s heart, I’ll do anything.”

“Me too,” he spits, finally reaching out a hand, but instead of wrapping it around my throat, he brushes a piece of hair behind my ear. “That’s all I want, Beelzebub.”

I swallow roughly, my stomach flipping pleasantly despite myself. “Then prove it.”

He bites down hard on his bottom lip, but before he can say anything else, the door behind me swings open.

“I’m ready!” Gore cheers, popping out of the room like a hyperactive puppy. He frowns when he looks at me. “Bel, you’re not dressed.”

I chuckle. My sweet best friend was so excited, he didn’t even realize I wasn’t in the room with him. “I’ll just be a second.”

“Come here, princess,” Mammon says as he holds out an arm for Gore, who immediately throws himself at his side. “We’ll wait for him in the car.”

“Okay,” Gore says, smiling widely and sighing dreamily when Mammon presses a kiss to his green head.

Mammon smirks and tugs my best friend close to his side, a look of satisfaction on his face. I don’t know how much he took my words to heart, but I have to hope he’s going to take me seriously.

Because I’d start a war for Gore.