Chapter 12
Alexa, play ‘Drive you Insane,’ by Daniel Di Angelo
“I always tell the truth, even when I lie.”
—TONY MONTANA, SCARFACE
S leep eluded me. Chaos cuddled me for an hour, then left. For a long time, I just lay there. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what had just happened. My demon stalker just wrung the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had out of me. Was I insane? Had that been real?
By the time I needed to get up for work, I had convinced myself it had been a nightmare. I tried to ignore the dull ache between my thighs where Death had stretched me open and fucked me with his fingers until I came.
Hoping the hot water would wash away the horrific events of the night before, I crawled into the shower. I was losing it. It had to be a hallucination.
Yeah, just like it was a hallucination every other time you’ve seen him. That mean little voice was back, and I buried my face in my hands as the water beat down on me. I did my best to pull myself together. Sliding on a pair of jeans and a burnt orange knit turtleneck sweater, I tugged my hair into a high pony. As a final touch, I dabbed concealer over the bags under my eyes and forced myself to suck it up.
There was nothing I could do about it. There was no one I could go to. If Death wanted to appear in my room and have his way with me, I already knew there was literally nowhere I could escape to. I had been trying to run from him my whole life and had never been successful. I just wish I knew why he was doing this to me now. This was so much worse than before when all he had done was kill people and stalk me.
Now, he was killing people, stalking me, and assaulting me. I was royally fucked.
To make matters worse, Reaver was late. I made it to Voodoo at ten am, despite the traumatic-ass shit I had just been forced to endure, and on zero sleep. I buzzed the bell for staff entry in the back and said hi to the prep team as I made my way through the kitchen to the front of the house.
Of course Reaver hadn’t arrived yet. I set up one of the booths with worksheets and quizzes on the cocktail and dinner menus and filled an empty vodka bottle with water for free pour practice.
Then, I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After an hour with still no sign of Reaver, I padded down into the office and found Rafael working away on next week’s schedule.
“Reaver didn’t show,” I said, my voice flat.
Rafael didn’t even look up from his work. “Did you text him?”
“I don’t have his number.”
Rafael sighed and reached for the staff contact list, handing it to me. I bit my tongue. I wasn’t sure why it was my fucking job to babysit this asshole. He was a grown-ass man. He should be able to stay on top of his own shit.
Regardless, I snatched up the list and added his number to my phone.
Lilith:
Where are you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.
-Lilith
His response was almost immediate.
Reaver:
How did you get this number?
I frowned. That was a stupid fucking question.
Lilith:
Where do you think? Rafael.
Reaver:
Don’t fucking text me.
Lilith:
Are you coming or not? I have better shit to do on my day off than to wait for your bitch ass.
Reaver:
Speak to me like that again, and you’ll see what happens, deathtrap.
I narrowed my eyes at my phone. Was he… threatening me? With fucking what?
Lilith:
Ooo, I’m so scared *eye roll emoji*. Be here in the next ten minutes, or I’m leaving.
I threw myself into the booth and checked the time. I would follow through on my threat. He had exactly ten minutes or…
The front door swung open, and I knew without looking that it was him. I tried to keep my face neutral as I took in the fucking sex god that was Reaver. Why were the pretty ones always such dicks?
Naturally, he was in all black, though instead of Voodoo’s business casual uniform, he was in jeans and a T-shirt. His dark hair was slicked back with some sort of hair pomade, and he was wearing a leather jacket that moved like a second skin over his broad shoulders. He was holding a to-go coffee cup and had a murdered-out motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.
He sauntered over to me like he owned the place, and we scowled at each other. Dropping the motorcycle helmet on the table, he slipped into the bench across from me like it was a throne.
I was about to say hi when he took out his phone and immediately started ignoring me.
My blood started boiling. Fuck this guy.
I didn’t need this. I wasn’t scared of him. Want to know what was scary? The demon that had stalked me my whole life and killed everyone I had ever known. That fucker was scary.
This little punk-ass bitch with a shitty attitude was not fucking scary. I wasn’t about to sit around and let another asshole torment me. He was going to respect me, or I was fucking out of here.
I snatched the phone out of his hands, and he froze, staring down at his empty hand for a moment before slowly raising his devastatingly beautiful eyes to look up at me.
Glancing down at his phone, I noticed a half-finished text typed out to Shem, and I couldn’t keep myself from snooping.
Shem:
It’s not going to be that bad; you’re being a baby.
Reaver:
She’s already acting like a fucking brat.
Shem:
LOL, sounds about right.
Reaver:
I swear to fuck, I’m going to?—
I scowled. Why the fuck was he talking to Shem about me? What did Shem mean ‘sounds about right?’ I’d never been bratty to him before. I frowned and shook my head before powering off the phone and meeting his furious gaze across the table without flinching.
“Give me my phone, deathtrap,” he said. His voice was low and deadly, and he stared at me so intensely that my eyes started to water. Did this dude not need to blink?
“I’ll give you your phone back after I’ve said what I need to say.”
“ One ,” he started to count. I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of a grown man counting down like I was some kind of petulant child, but it wasn’t funny. It was terrifying.
“Here’s how this is going to go, Reaver. I’m going to train you, and you’re going to pass your bar tests so I can keep my spot on primetime. We’re not friends, I don’t want to be friends, but I do want you to treat me with respect. I will not be coming here to help you on my days off if you’re going to be an asshole.”
He stood up from the booth and moved to my side. I felt a thrill of fear rush through me as he towered over me. I looked up at him and swallowed as he leaned over, putting one hand on the wall and the other on the table, boxing me in.
His face was so close our noses were nearly touching, and I was drowning in the scent of frankincense and sandalwood.
“ Two,” he continued. His voice was so low I felt it in my bones. My breath caught, and I had to admit to myself that maybe he was a little scary. I shook my head, remembering again who I was. He couldn’t do shit to me. My demon would kill him if he touched me.
“What are you going to do, Reaver? Assault me? I’m a deathtrap, remember? Touch me, and you’ll fucking regret it.”
“ Three .”
Suddenly, his hand was covering the entire bottom half of my face. He pinched my nose shut and covered my mouth, forcing me back to lie down in the booth. I squealed into his hand and squirmed as he straddled me. He snatched his phone out of my hands as I tried to use them to push him off of me. Whipping the phone into the other side of the booth, he grabbed my wrists with his free hand. In the same breath, he pinned my arms over my head, all while still cutting off my air supply.
He watched me calmly as I struggled beneath him. I was completely at his mercy.
“You like to take things that aren’t yours, don’t you, deathtrap?” he asked me, his voice cold and deadly. Why did he keep saying shit like that?
I was thrashing beneath him now. I couldn’t breathe at all, and I was worried I was going to pass out.
“Do you want to breathe?” he asked, staring at me intently, completely unconcerned that I was fighting for my fucking life beneath him. “I asked you a question. Do you want to fucking breathe, Lilith?”
I nodded against his hand, tears streaming from my eyes. I was going to pass out; it was too much. He leaned forward, and I felt his hot breath against my ear. His breath had a faint spearmint scent, and I wondered how someone so vile could smell so nice.
“Touch my shit again, and this is what happens. Do you fucking understand? Nod if you do.”
I nodded frantically against his hand. “Good girl,” he breathed into my ear, and my skin pebbled with revulsion as he finally let go of my face and wrists.
I gasped, sucking in mouthfuls of air, frantically sitting up and kicking away from him to the other side of the booth. I was shaking and panting while he stared at me with a slightly amused look on his face. He reached out and grabbed his coffee off the table, watching me try to recover as if nothing had happened.
“That was good for me. Was it good for you?” he asked, taking a sip from his to-go cup, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re a… monster,” I rasped. I had underestimated him. He was a fucking psychopath . I was getting the fuck out of here. I scrambled out of the booth.
“I’m done. You’re on your own, you crazy fuck!” I moved to dart past him, but he casually grabbed my arm and flung me back into the booth like I weighed nothing. I squealed and caught myself on my elbows, bracing myself for him to attack me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he took another sip of his coffee and stepped forward so I couldn’t get up without touching him.
“ This is how it’s going to go, deathtrap. We’re going to do this fucking training, but you’re going to listen to me. It’s going to be on my terms. You’re right; we’re not friends. We’re never going to be friends, and I will treat you however the fuck I want. You will be coming here to train on your days off and any other fucking day I tell you to because you need this job, and we both know it.” He was leaning over the booth again, one hand resting on the table and one hand on the wall. We stared each other down, and I felt my eyes begin to burn with tears. I fought them as hard as I could. I didn’t want him to see that he had made me cry again. He noticed them anyway. His lip curled, and he sneered at me.
“Aww, are those for me?” he cooed, his voice taunting. He reached forward as if he were going to brush a tear away, but I jerked my head to the side. He laughed and grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him.
“Do what I tell you, and we won’t have a problem,” he said, and I narrowed my eyes on him. “I just showed you what happens if you piss me off.”
“Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever fucking do to you?” I asked quietly, and he snorted.
“Maybe I just like to see you cry,” he sneered. I glared up at him, and all I could think about was that he had fucking touched me, and now my demon was probably going to kill him. For once, I would be so fucking happy about it. As if he could see where my mind had gone, he chuckled.
“I don’t know how you’re killing everyone, but I can tell you right now, it’s not going to work on me. I’ve dealt with scarier shit than some little girl with an agenda. I’m not going anywhere, and since I’m stuck with you until this bullshit training is done, I might as well make it fun for me. You’re mine until the review. You’ll do what the fuck I say, or I’ll personally make sure you lose your precious little job. Are we clear?”
Every fiber of my being screamed at me to kick him in the dick and tell him to go to fucking hell, but he was right. I needed this job. I had worked so hard to get to where I was. I couldn’t let him take it all away from me.
He and Rafael were friends, and Reaver had already wiggled his way under Shem’s skin. I believed him when he said he would find a way to make sure I lost my job. As much as I hated it, he wasn’t leaving me much choice. Hopefully my demon would kill him soon, and everything would just go back to normal. I gritted my teeth and nodded.
“Crystal,” I growled, and he softened. The asshole softened.
“Good girl, Lilith.” He smirked. “Now, you’re going to tell Rafael that I did all your stupid little exercises and passed them with flying colors. You’re also going to take my shift tonight.”
I glared at him, “I absolutely will not be taking your shift! What the fuck, Reaver?”
“Oh, but you are. Welcome to day one of living in your own personal fucking nightmare, Lilith Cortland.” His smirk widened, and I wanted to slap him across the fucking face. “After your shift, you will go home to what I’m assuming is a sad little apartment, and you will wait for your next shift or for me to text you, whichever comes first.”
“You’re a sadistic fuck, you know that? You can’t tell me what to do when we’re not at work; that’s not part of the deal. ”
He just laughed, his eyes shining. “This isn’t a deal , Lilith. This is blackmail, and unfortunately, the victim doesn’t typically get a say in the terms. You’ll do what I tell you, or there will be consequences.”
He leaned forward and tapped me on the nose, giving me a smug smile.
“Enjoy my shift. Try not to kill anyone tonight.” With a final condescending chuckle, he turned on his heel and left.