Chapter 8 #3
“Trust me, that was very mutually beneficial. Which is why I need to go clean up,” I added with a wink over my shoulder, enjoying the shy, almost proud look on Grace’s face.
Patience had never been my strong suit, but I had no problem waiting for Grace. I didn’t just want her firsts, I wanted her to ask me for them. I wanted her excitement . And I’d wait however long she needed to get there.
* * *
What was Grace doing right now?
The question had been circling in my brain on a loop all fucking day, which was a little embarrassing because I doubted she was thinking even half as much about me. Well, maybe she was wondering where I was, since it was already after dark.
I had too much time on my hands here. Working for Dare meant mostly spending the day on my own while he focused on his endless stream of clients. There was only a half wall separating us so it wasn’t like I was excluded from their conversations, but I didn’t want to distract him either.
His books had been a mess, but I’d begun tidying them up as best I could considering I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.
I’d updated his social media pages. I’d even caved and got him dinner, even though I’d grumbled the entire time about him making me his bitch.
Dare worked fucking hard, and he was doing me a solid by hiring me, so it was really the least I could do.
If I’d rebelled by not selling drugs for my dad, Dare was the original rebel.
Most of the Philotes got into sex work—they were driven by lust in the same way I was driven by doom—but Dare had never had any interest in that life.
He’d gotten into tattooing as an alternative way of appreciating the human form.
Really, the only downsides to working for Dare were long as hell days because he was booked solid and had no idea there was somewhere else I wanted to be, and that I used my downtime fantasizing about Grace making those breathy little moans again, and time could not have gone any slower.
Was she thinking about me that way? Probably not. Most of the staff at Hope House were agathos—everyone I knew avoided that place like the plague. If anything, Grace was probably feeling guilty again about what we’d done this morning.
The sun had well and truly set and I was still hanging around because Dare’s last client was running seriously fucking late—I wouldn’t be surprised if Grace was asleep by the time I got back.
Hopefully she didn’t think I’d changed my mind.
It would be a lot easier if we could just message each other without her having to worry about her parents monitoring her phone like she was a teenager.
I grimaced as I took another swig of my now cold coffee, filing away the backlog of receipts that still needed to be dealt with for tomorrow.
That lethargic feeling that seemed to come with being away from Grace had already crept back into my muscles over the course of the day, although the pain hadn’t set in yet, and I wondered if it was taking longer to crop up because of what we’d done this morning.
If that was the reason, well…that was really fucked up. I hadn’t given much thought to how fucked up the agathos really were until I’d met Grace, but I definitely had some thoughts on it now.
Dare’s last client emerged—an enormous bald human man who was wincing slightly as his impractical pants rubbed against the new ink on his leg—and I forced myself not to snap at him for taking so fucking long while I reminded him about aftercare and processed his payment.
I could see Dare moving around behind the partial wall, cleaning the equipment and packing it away, and he was probably as desperate to get out of here after a long day as I was.
For very different reasons.
“Hey, do you wanna hit the gym?” Dare asked, leaning against the half wall as his client walked out. He rolled his neck a few times, probably stiff from working in the same position for the past couple of hours.
“I’ve got plans,” I replied, already grabbing my jacket and forcing my heavy arms into them. Fuck it, I was rushing back for snuggles and I had zero regrets about it.
“Your version of plans is finding the corner of a bar to get loaded in, then sitting around moping about your life choices,” Dare scoffed.
“Maybe I’m a changed man?”
“Mm, something has changed, that’s for sure,” Dare replied, eyes narrowed on me. “You fucking someone?”
It wasn’t an unreasonable question—daimon didn’t do relationships—but even if I was fucking Grace, that wouldn’t even begin to describe what was happening between us.
“It’s not always just about fucking,” I said lightly as I let myself out of the studio onto the dark street.
“Since when?” Dare called after me.
Since Grace.
It took about half an hour to get back to her place, and I didn’t fuck around since it was after dark and most daimons were up and about. I didn’t need anyone getting curious about where I was going. There was no doubt in my mind that my dad had told everyone who’d listen that he’d kicked me out.
I tipped my chin at Rogue as I passed her ground-level apartment, and she returned the gesture tiredly, patting a screaming baby repeatedly on the back in front of the window.
We’d gone to school together, and it blew my mind that she was someone’s mother now.
She looked miserable, honestly. Since we were incapable of maintaining relationships, daimon kids were always raised by just one of our parents.
Usually the human while we were young, but not always.
When our abilities manifested, our daimonic parents had to step in and take over, and explain to us what we were and why the humans in our lives could never find out.
It didn’t always work out. Some kids were abandoned by their daimonic parents. Without anyone to guide them, they usually ended up institutionalized.
I pulled my lighter out of my pocket, absently flicking it as I remembered my own mom. She was a human woman who’d had me at 19, barely kept me alive until I was 17 when she’d overdosed, then I’d been forced to move in with my dad. It was one of the few events in my life I didn’t feel guilty about.
I’d been trying to help her get clean before I even fully understood what that meant. I knew how she’d meet her end, and I’d tried to prevent it, but I had long since accepted she needed more help than a kid could give her.
I sighed heavily as I saw the devil himself walk out of the corner store, shoving his graying hair out of his face. I could have hidden, but I’d rather get this confrontation over and done with.
“Riot,” Dad growled, suddenly animated as he stalked towards me.
“I know, I know,” I drawled, holding up my hands. “I’ll give it back.”
“You little shit bag,” Dad snapped. “Why can’t you just work for a fucking living like everyone else? You’re always making my life so fucking difficult.”
“I’ve been working,” I replied. “I just don’t want to work for you. I’ll drop the stuff at your place.”
“You’re not welcome in my house,” he muttered, looking surly. “You expect me to believe you’ve got any of it left? You were always an ungrateful asshole of a kid.”
“I learned from the best.” I shrugged, shooting him a smirk as he scoffed loudly, but the tension leached out of his shoulders.
He was a dick, but as long as I gave him back the drugs I skimmed and maybe a little cash for housing me for the last six months when I wasn’t bringing in any income, he’d leave me alone.
Daimons were pretty civil to one another, so long as deals were honored and debts were repaid. Respect was our only moral code.
“You got somewhere to stay?” he asked begrudgingly.
“I’m good,” I assured him, clapping him on the back as I moved past him. “Gotta run. Take care of yourself, old man.”
“Fucking softie,” he muttered as I walked away. He;d always complained that I was too soft for a daimon, and he wasn’t even wrong.
I just didn’t care anymore that he was right.