Chapter Eight
Indy was sprawled across Malik’s bed, one arm flung wide as the night breeze whispered through the window.
He’d closed his shop three hours early, something he hadn’t done in years, but the thought of unfilled orders didn’t make him anxious.
Malik’s fingers moved through his hair in slow, gentle strokes, and Indy found himself melting into the touch.
Their conversation drifted between topics with the unhurried ease of summer clouds.
“You’re lying,” Malik teased with a devasting grin that made Indy’s heart flutter.
“Not even a little.”
“You’re telling me this guy bought every single rose you had and included a card that vowed to never again stick his dick where it didn’t belong?” Malik sounded more amused than shocked. His fingers continued to glide through Indy’s hair, the gentle scrape of his nails making Indy tingle all over.
“Cross my heart and hope my petunias die,” Indy shot back, making an X over his chest. “A few hours later, his wife stormed in like a hurricane in heels, asking for every funeral wreath I had. When I told her I didn’t have any, she marched to the back and grabbed the bucket of wilted hydrangea I’d forgotten to toss out.
Then she threw fifty bucks at me, and demanded I deliver them with a card featuring her artistic rendering of garden shears aimed toward a cock. ”
“Tell me you didn’t deliver them,” Malik laughed.
“Are you kidding? I took them straight to the police station. Sheriff Owen’s eyebrows reached his hairline.”
“Smart man.” He swooped down to plant a kiss on Indy’s forehead.
“How long have you lived in Crimson Hollow?” Indy asked as Malik settled back.
“About a year.” Malik started stroking Indy’s hair again, as if he needed the constant contact.
“What brought you here?” Indy rested his head on his mate’s lap, wondering if Malik’s relocation had anything to do with his gambling.
“I met Grayson, Reese, and Colton a few years back in some shithole town. It was just a place I was passing through. Nearly struck Reese with my truck on some dark backroad,” Malik murmured, as if he was reliving the memory.
“I got out to make sure he was okay, when Grayson and Colton burst from the woods, half a dozen dogs running alongside them.”
Indy listened as the story unfolded, remembering the encounter with a hyena in his shop. Anyone who hurts dogs in a fighting ring deserves to be put down.
“Hyenas were hot on their trail. I didn’t even hesitate when Grayson turned and fought them. Just jump into the fray with no clue what was going on.”
“They were rescuing the dogs from a fighting ring,” Indy said.
Malik scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Yeah. Poor creatures were scarred to hell and shaking badly. I killed the hyena I was fighting, knowing in my gut he was the cause of it. Afterward, Grayson invited me to join his team.”
“And you’ve been rescuing dogs ever since.” It was a noble cause, and Indy was damn proud of his mate. Malik had his issues, but he was a good, caring man at his core. A protector for those too weak to defend themselves.
“I’m assuming you ended up in this town because of a fighting ring?” Indy played with the fabric of Malik’s shirt. His mate wasn’t the only one who needed contact, even though Indy’s head was pressed against Malik’s thighs.
“Biggest one so far. But we saved the dogs and killed the hyenas. But it’s like playing whack-a-mole. Shut one down, another one surfaces.” He tapped Indy on the nose. “What about you?’
“Not much to tell.” Indy averted his gaze.
“My dad constantly moved us around when I was a pup. After my mom was killed.” The memories pulled at the edges of his mind where Indy forced them to stay.
“I think he was terrified of losing me too, so he ran from the possibility of a threat.” They’d never stayed anywhere long enough for Indy to make friends.
Living with a paranoid father wasn’t exactly the healthiest environment to raise a child.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Malik said just as the bedroom lights cut out.
Indy sat up and glanced around. “It’s probably the breaker, right?”
Instead of answering, Malik swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood, then grabbed sweatpants from the dresser.
Indy did the same, quickly dressing before he padded silently after Malik as they crossed the bedroom and entered the hallway together.
It was dark except for the line of light at the far end. The lamp in the living room was still on. Maybe only half of the breakers had blown? Please let it be the breakers.
Malik slowly moved down the hallway with Indy trailing so close, they should’ve merged into one person.
Everything in the living room seemed normal except for the dread pooling in his gut. Indy glanced around, wishing they weren’t the only ones home. The others had gone out for the evening.
Malik paused near the wall, head cocked. Indy did the same but couldn’t hear anything. Was there something more to the power outage or was he becoming as paranoid as his dad?
Two men suddenly emerged from the shadows, answering Indy’s question. It had been hypothetical, not a freaking challenge for the universe to answer.
Wait. Indy knew them. Not personally. He remembered them from that rainy night Malik had run into his shop.
Demons.
We’re so screwed, just not in a pleasurable way.
The demons were so much bigger up close. Two hulking figures who hadn’t dropped by for tea.
“Malik,” Indy softly squeaked. His mate didn’t answer. His back was to Indy, his stance tense.
The dark-haired one smiled, showing off straight, white teeth. The blond appeared bored as his gaze flicked to Malik.
This was seven different kind of bad Indy would give anything to avoid.
“Naughty of you to run, Malik,” the demon with dark hair said with a smirk. “Hadn’t pegged you as a coward.”
“I like to keep assholes on their toes, Kenzo,” Malik snarled, then his gaze shot to the blond. “Anakin. Always a displeasure.”
The name “Skywalker” popped into Indy’s head. He was half-expecting the demon to whip out a light saber. Focus!