4. Izzy
FOUR
Izzy
I blink, stunned by the grenade Maeve just threw at me. “What do you mean Fletcher’s company got bought out and dismantled in twelve hours? How did that happen?”
She flicks through a plate of nachos with a shrug. “Does it matter?”
“Of course, it matters. That’s not a hostile takeover, Maeve. That’s a personal vendetta.”
“Don’t forget the part where all Thimble Dick’s assets got frozen, and he was blacklisted from Silicon Valley.” She shoves a chip in her mouth and lifts her margarita in a one-woman toast. “Karma isn’t always on time, but when she shows up, she’ll cut off your dick and slap you with it.”
When Maeve told me she was taking me out for drinks to celebrate, I was confused. What could I possibly have to be happy about? I’m still unemployed and living on her father’s diamond-encrusted dime.
Not that he even knows.
I haven’t seen or heard Lennox Carver since that first night. He has either kept himself holed up on the third floor or not even bothered to come home at all, which is fine with me. Ever since Lucifer entered my life, my complex, hate/lust infatuation with Maeve’s father has become something of a distant memory.
Although, after what the Devil coerced me into doing two nights ago, I’ve been avoiding him, too, which brings me back to the ever-tightening knot in my stomach.
Is this my fault? Is Fletcher paying the price for my disobedience?
I wrack my brain trying to remember if I revealed any details about my ex, but I’m positive I kept my complaints vague. No one could piece all that together, much less have the power to ruin a man in the blink of an eye.
My throat tightens as Lucifer’s last warning flashes through my head.
Ignore me again, and I’ll show you how fucking unhinged the Devil can be.
Did he make good on his threat?
Maeve stares at me a moment, then tosses her half-eaten chip back onto the plate. “Okay, what the hell is up with you?”
“I don’t know what you?—”
“Don’t hand me that shit. You’ve been acting weird for days. You’ve been jumpy and secretive, and glued to your laptop like it’s a new…” She trails off as a knowing smile replaces her tight scowl. “You dirty bitch…”
I groan and bury my face in my hands. “I’m begging you not to?—”
“You’ve been flicking your light switch to late-night nasty grams from Lucifer, haven’t you?”
“For the love of God, stop,” I mumble into my palms.
“I bet he’s a freak. Probably has a monster?—”
“Enough!” I smack my palms on the table so hard I think I rattle her as much as the silverware. “I’m sorry,” I say letting out a rough breath. “It’s just that he’s this intense, pervasive weight hanging over me. If I’m not bowing to his whims online, I’m thinking about him. I’ve even started seeing his hooded, painted face everywhere…in the shadows, outside my window, in my dreams.” The confession causes my shoulders to sag. “It’s just all overwhelming and confusing and…”
“Hot?”
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Hot isn’t the word for it.”
Her eyebrow slashes into a sharp arch, and she motions to our server. “Two more margaritas, please.” At my nervous snort, she turns back and grins. “Something tells me we’re going to need them.”
Fifteen minutes later, Maeve’s eyes are wide, her neck is flushed, and her mouth is hanging wide open. If I wasn’t so embarrassed, I’d find the whole thing incredibly amusing. Maeve is always the one with the wild sex stories, and I’m the one listening in envy and awe, wondering why I couldn’t be more like her.
Now, the tables haven’t just turned; they’ve flipped over and disintegrated.
“You lucky bitch…” she says, dragging out the words in one stretched breath. “Sounds delicious, so what’s got you running scared from Tall, Dark, and Demonic?”
I shrug, avoiding her stare by being way too invested in the distribution of salt around the rim of my glass. “It was just a fun, short-lived thing. It’s not like I have a crush. You wanted me to try it out so you could promote it, and I did. End of story.”
“Bullshit.” Her sharp tone has me looking up to find no trace of amusement on her face. “You’re scared to fall under another man’s control. Your ex led you around on a leash, and you’re afraid to give anyone that kind of power over you again.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No. But there’s a difference in giving control and having it taken from you. Role play is all an illusion, babe. Think about that long enough and you’ll realize you’re the one with all the power, not him.” She plucks her lime from the side of her glass and sucks it thoughtfully before pinning me with a sharp stare. “Answer me this… Does this Lucifer scare you or make you feel unsafe?”
I nod. “Sometimes.”
She tosses the lime back into her glass with a shrug. “Then that’s it. Game over. Don’t log on again. We’ll get you signed up on an actual dating app with men whose dicks aren’t powered by a PS5 controller.”
“You’re severely disturbed, you know that?”
“Talk your shit, sister. I’m not the one rubbing my knob to Satan.”
I scrunch my face. “How much do we have to drink for both of us to forget I told you that?”
“Good question. Let’s find out.” She swings her arm back in the air and twirls her finger in a circle at the server. “Two more margaritas…better make ’em doubles.”
My shoe gets caught in the edge of the heavy door as Maeve and I stumble our way into the mansion. Grabbing hold of the door frame, I toss my chin over my shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Maeve looks back at me. “Did you just apologize to the door?”
“No?”
She blinks twice, then erupts in a fit of laughter that has her doubled over and wheezing. “Oh my God, I love drunk Izzy.”
I push past her, the floor tilting with every step. “That’s not what you said a few days ago.”
“That’s because you were whiny drunk. Nobody likes a party plooper.” She squints her eyes. “A party plopper.” Grunting, she throws her hands in the air. “You know what I mean.”
“Are you sure your father won’t be mad? Remember that time in college when we came home shitfaced at three a.m., and he flipped out?”
It’s seared into my memory. Lennox Carver stood at the bottom of the staircase, gripping a glass of bourbon, his salt-and-pepper stubbled jaw locked so tight, I was afraid it was going to snap. Maeve kept trying to explain her way out of it, but I’ll never forget the way his icy eyes locked on me. It was like he wanted to grab me by the throat and feel my life fade away.
I suppose that was the encounter that jump-started this secret need for danger and domination. At that moment, a side of me was born I refused to acknowledge until Lucifer forced it out of me.
“He wasn’t mad. That’s just his face,” she says, flinging her Jimmy Choo heels across the foyer.
“If I turn around, and he’s behind me, I’m going to pee my pants.”
Maeve stumbles into the kitchen with a giggle. “He left for Chicago yesterday and won’t be back until Friday.” She reappears, holding a bottle of whiskey above her head like a prize. “Which gives us plenty of time to finish this.”
I shrug. “Okay, but now I have to pee for real.”
She plops onto the couch and waves me off. “Go. I’ll start without you.”
I’m in the bathroom longer than expected. Once I sit down, the room becomes one of those old, rusty spinning wheels of death I used to play on as a kid. By the time it finally stops, and I’ve splashed more water on the floor than my face, I don’t know how much time has passed.
When I walk back into the living room, I realize it’s more than I thought.
Maeve is passed out cold on the couch, hugging the bottle to her chest like a stuffed animal. I don’t bother waking her. Once she conks out, that’s it. A wrecking ball could take out half the house, and she’d never know. So, I drape a blanket over her and make my way up the stairs.
Every step I take sends a cold shiver up my spine.
Something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on why.
Once in my room, I tell myself to crawl into bed and go to sleep. After all, I promised Maeve, I’d forget about ClickBait. But the longer I think about Lucifer and his filthy mouth, the thinner that promise gets, leaving space for a darker one to grow.
“You made a promise to him first ,” a voice in my head whispers. “No one will know.”
I’m dragging my laptop off my nightstand before I can think about what I’m doing.
Butterflies invade my stomach as I reach for the keyboard, then immediately freeze.
The ClickBait site is up already, and there’s a message on the screen.
Out a little late tonight, aren’t you?
The butterflies turn into hornets as I look around the empty room, paranoia clawing at my throat. I don’t remember pulling the website up before we left for the bar, and I sure as hell don’t recall clicking on Lucifer’s avatar. I’m off the bed in a single leap, searching through the closet, checking the lock on the window, even looking under the bed.
Everything’s secure.
That “off” feeling from before settles in my bones. I know I should ignore him, but something won’t let me.
How did you know I was out?
His response is quick and curt.
I’m the prince of darkness, love. I know everything.
A rush of excitement skates down my spine.
What do you want?
An explanation. I don’t like being ignored.
I bite my lip. I know better than to antagonize him, but my body and my head aren’t communicating right now.
I got bored. Simple as that. So, why won’t you leave me alone?
Don’t forget you contacted me, not the other way around. The Devil never goes looking for souls. They’re offered willingly, and you, dear Izzy, gave yours with your legs wide open.
Cocky bastard.
That doesn’t give you the right to hack into my computer.
There’s the slightest of pauses. My breath hitches, and I wait for the validation I need for the hornets to stop swarming. Instead, they all sting at once.
Keep telling yourself that, love.
I press two fingers to my lips to hush the scream that’s brewing behind them. Closing my eyes, I draw in a few deep breaths, then open them and lower my shaking hands to the keyboard.
Did you ruin Fletcher?
Those three dots bounce, then stop, then bounce again.
I take from those who break my toys.
I grit my teeth, furious at myself for not being more furious at him.
You’re sick.
I’m also a man of my word, which is more than I can say for you. You’ve refused to log back on because I awakened things you didn’t know were there. Things that’d have others clutching their proverbial pearls.
The hornets swarm into my throat and start stinging. Deep down, I know he’s right, but my pride doesn’t want to take the hit. So, I let the panic that’s been building all day turn it into something more volatile.
Fuck you. I refuse to be lectured by some asshole behind a computer screen. News flash, you’re not actually the Devil, so why don’t you get offline and go touch some grass?
Shoving the laptop across the bed, I swing my legs off the mattress just as those damn three dots start to bounce. I tell myself not to look, but it’s a losing battle.
Whoever poured you that last margarita should be shot.
I stare at the line in disbelief. Sliding off the mattress, I stumble backward toward the bedroom door. There’s no way he could know that.
Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I spin around while dialing 911, only to run into a brick wall. I stand frozen as two leather-gloved hands take a punishing hold on my wrists.
“Bad girl, Izzy.”