Chapter 10
Devil Inside
Back inside, I sit next to Jagger on the leather sofa in the living room.
There’s a massive flat-screen on the wall and two tan sofas book-ended with reclining armchairs.
The space is dark and moody, much like the asshole sitting beside me with his laptop open.
It felt so romantic when I was here with him last time, but with the distance between us now, I have no idea how that could even have been the same guy.
“Name?” he demands, not even looking up.
My hands twist in my lap. I really wish I was dressed in more than Cruz’s T-shirt for this. I can’t think straight with the energy he’s giving off. And all I want right now is to tell him to fuck off.
When I don’t reply, his eyes quickly lift from the laptop, his brow creasing. “What do you want your new name to be?”
“Can’t I do this with Ash or Cruz?”
His face hardens. “Unfortunately for both of us, no.”
I nibble my bottom lip, my stomach churning like crazy. I want to have it out with him. “If I’m so much of an inconvenience, why are you helping me?”
He cracks his neck. “You really want to push me?”
I blink back at him, not backing down because apparently, I do really want to push him. “I don’t want to be a burden. Why don’t you give me your laptop, and I can work this out myself. And you can scurry off and do your other work.”
He huffs out a breath in a way that has me slinking further away from him. “Give me a name or I will come up with something myself.”
“It’s hardly an easy question, you don’t have to be such a dick about it.
Not like I have ever thought what would I call myself if I had to fake my death and pretend to be someone else,” I whisper, wishing I had time to think this through.
I’ve lost my edge, the reality hitting me.
In all honesty, I could have spent the last couple of days thinking about it, but my thoughts have been consumed with terrible thoughts of revenge and trying to avoid all of them.
“Think about it while we fill out the rest of the form,” he grumbles. “Date of birth? How about today’s date but the same year as you were born?”
“I have to change my date of birth?” I gasp, the realization catching me off guard.
He looks at me as if I’m stupid, his coolness toward me only making my stomach churn harder. “We need to make this all look legit, and I don’t want anything rousing suspicion, so yeah, Mal is sorting you a new birth certificate.”
“Stop acting like a prick about it. I’ve never set up a new identity for myself before. Not like this is an everyday occurrence, for me anyway.” I roll my eyes and look away from him, staring out the window, wishing I was back out in the sun. Alone.
He takes a deep measured breath. “I’ll stop acting like a prick when you stop being difficult. I’m trying to help you here.”
“Fine, go with today,” I respond, a new heaviness sitting on my shoulders. What have I done? Why does it feel like I signed a deal with the devil, and now, I’m sitting in his den, playing right into his hands with every new choice I make?
He rubs his chin, looking concerned. “We’re gonna need a photo. Might have to contact Sloane and get hold of a disguise for you, one of those wigs from The Raven’s Nest or some shit.”
“Yeah, I guess, whatever.” I sigh heavily.
His hand lands on my thigh, and I glance up at him. “What’s wrong, flower? I can’t concentrate with all the huffing and puffing.”
I glare at him. “Nothing!” Is he stupid? There are so many damn things wrong right now. If I had a pen and paper, I could write him a list.
His fingers press into my flesh. “Look, this was never going to be easy, but it’s for the best. You’re safe and free of your family’s clutches.”
My eyes meet his. “Just caged by your family,” I mutter, not able to help myself.
His brow rises, and his lips form a thin line, making him look even more evil. “This was what you wanted.”
I sigh again. “I wanted to be safe. I didn’t realize you would be so…controlling about everything.”
“Really?”
“You act like I’m a pain in your ass, like I’m no one to you.
I have been through hell this past week, and you want to sit there like the big fucking boss demanding I do as you say like a little kid.
I’m not a fucking kid, Jagger. I have lost everything, and I’m scared and I have no idea who I should be. ”
“Anyone you want to be.” His face softens. “And you didn’t lose everything, just a temporary sidestep. Besides, we’re all still here. Turning our fucking lives upside down for you.”
I can’t keep looking at him when he’s being so intense, so I stare out the window again as I think about what he said.
I have them, do I really, though? They are impossible to fully trust. A light breeze drifts through the perfectly manicured gardens surrounding the house.
There is something about this place that reminds me of Valentine’s mansion.
A room for everything you could ever imagine, ridiculously vast expanses of land stretching out in front of us, so much space, yet I still feel just as trapped as when I was with him.
“What about Dahlia? It’s my favorite flower,” I eventually say.
His lips lift at the sides a little as if he likes the idea. “That will do.” He types it into the form he’s filling in.
“You can choose whatever surname you want. As long as it’s not Moretti, I’m happy.”
“Done.” He keeps filling in the form as I watch him.
He’s still favoring his good side, and while he hasn’t mentioned being in pain, I’m sure he must be.
It hasn’t been long since he was shot. It’s strange, but our time in the clinic made me feel like we could be something different.
Even though we didn’t talk a lot, I felt closer to him, like we had a silent understanding for what we both went through, but out here in the real world, he’s back to his tough, cold, asshole self.
And the distance between us is glaring. It hurts in a way I never expected.
Why do I want to be close to someone like him, anyway?
What does that make me, a glutton for punishment or something?
“Why don’t you touch me like your brothers?” I don’t know where the question comes from. All I know is I’m sitting too close to him because my brain has turned to mush, and suddenly, I want more from him than I should.
He peers up from his laptop, his eyes narrowing as he scans over my face. “You’re not ready for me to touch you, flower.” His voice is icy, and it sends a shiver over my skin.
“What does that mean?” I ask anyway.
With a serious expression, he closes the laptop and sets it down on the coffee table. “You nearly got us both killed.”
I stare back at him, trying to work out how that correlates with him touching me.
He leans in closer. “When I get my hands on you again, you will know.” His words send goosebumps over my skin, and I know instantly what he wants.
I pull back from him, my back ramrod straight. “You want to punish me for running when it was you who scared me?” I splutter back at him. What the fuck.
His eyes flash with something unhinged. “You wouldn’t have been scared if you had trusted us instead of listening to your brother.”
I cross my arms over my chest protectively. “I wouldn’t have been scared if you didn’t take all my stuff and told me the truth instead,” I spit back at him. How dare he turn this around on me.
“You would have taken off, thinking you were running from us, and run right into them. Right now, you would be in the possession of Leone Russo. Is that what you want? Because I thought you wanted to be free.”
“Of course it’s not what I wanted. But I could have gotten away. I could have escaped to someplace better.”
He huffs out a cold laugh. “They had your phone tracked, our apartment building bugged, the Serpents watching our every fucking move. There was no getting away from them. This is real life, Daisy, not some sappy movie. Stop living in a fantasy world.”
I stare back at him, my heart racing in my chest. How dare he talk to me like that! I know what this is. It’s my fucking life, and I have been living in this nightmare for years before he got involved. “You’re not my papa,” I growl back at him, hardly recognizing my voice.
A dark chuckle vibrates from him. “Someone needs to be. Your own papa failed you.”
My mouth pops open. I have no words to come back at him with.
His eyes leisurely roam down my body, settling on my bare legs, and I see him grow hard.
He knows I have nothing on under his brother’s shirt, but it’s more than that.
It’s this conversation. He doesn’t want to touch me until he can control me in every way, and he knows he can’t do that while I’m still recovering, so he won’t touch me at all.
Even when it’s damn obvious fighting with me turns him the fuck on.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you…
the control you think you have over me,” I whisper, my voice so soft it’s barely audible.
But I’m not letting him get away with this shit.
He collects a strand of my hair and runs his fingers through it slowly.
I should flinch away from him, but instead, I stare back at him in fascination.
His features can be so harsh, but with me, there’s another side to him.
“You have no idea how much. And I don’t just think I have control over you. I know it.”
“Jagger,” I gasp, because the way he’s looking at me is turning me the hell on as well. I’m supposed to be telling him he can’t fucking control me. Storming from the room and never talking to him again. But that’s not what I want at all.
His eyes met mine, a disturbing mix of desire and something sinister that sent shivers down my spine. “Come sit on my lap, flower.” His voice is almost a whisper this time but still holds that edge of authority.