Chapter 13
Piper
“Why don’t you get dressed?”
I stare in shock at the man in front of me. He’s got dark hair and pale skin, so pale he looks like a vampire, and the dangerous glint in his eyes makes me wonder if he isn’t one, after all.
“Get dressed.”
The words are spoken like an order this time.
Startled out of my shock, I look down. Then I blush, because I realize my underwear and leggings are puddled around my ankles, and I’m giving him quite a show.
Hastily, I draw them back up again, really hoping he hasn’t seen too much.
He probably has, but he’s enough of a gentleman to keep his eyes firmly glued to the side.
Well, gentleman probably isn’t the word to describe the guy who’s ordered your death, but still, I’m somewhat relieved to see that he doesn’t appear to be planning to rape me.
The minute my leggings are back on, he grabs my arm and stalks back out with me toward the elevator.
He doesn’t say another word, but he doesn’t let go of my arm, and I feel it bruise. Still, it’s nothing compared to the state of my face.
The second we’re back on the top floor, he’s yelling at Vincent.
“Tell me the fuck why that fucking subcontractor brings her in with her face beaten to a pulp?!”
“Uh,” begins Vincent.
“And why the fuck he had his cock out and was about to rape her?”
“Oops,” stammers Vincent.
“Oops is right, fucker!”
I fix my eyes to the ground, wishing I could sink six feet under it, as I hear my near-rape being boomed out for the whole floor to hear.
It’s a good thing no one seems to be on this floor except Vincent, Damien and…
The blond Ken-doll. Everest. I can just make out his fuzzy mop of blond hair.
“What the hell?” he questions, walking up.
“Fuck off, man. I have a headache.”
“First, why are you blaming Vincent for the guy you hired to do this job? And second of all, are you okay?”
Those last words are directed at me as he looks down with concern etched in his face. I stare back at him, wondering what kind of surreal situation I’ve just gotten myself into.
“Cat got your tongue?” he adds, as I find myself in one of those rare occasions in my life where I can’t think of a single thing to say.
“Aren’t you going to kill me?” I croak out at last.
He makes a face. “Well, when you put it like that…” He stands up straight and faces Damien. “Is that really necessary? What could a young girl like that do anyway? She doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly.”
“She’s a liability,” grunts Damien. “Come on.”
He pulls me toward a room that looks like it’s his office. He slams it shut behind us, and then, at last, he lets my arm go.
I rush toward the back wall, rubbing it, but stumble over a chair first and fall flat on my ass.
Fuck me. This day really could not be getting any worse. First I’m taken by some assholes, slit a guy’s throat then nearly get raped by another. Now I just fell on my ass in front of the all-powerful asshole who’s planning to kill me.
That asshole wears the shadow of a smirk as he actually reaches out and… helps me up.
“Where are your glasses?”
“I, uhm. Tony took them. You know, the guy you hired who beat me up and then nearly raped me.”
“Right. Sorry about that.”
“You are going to kill me… no?” I ask, hope beating at my chest as I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I’ve got this all wrong. He seems kind of nice, albeit scary. Why the hell would he apologize if he was planning to kill me anyway? Or shoot the guy who was trying to rape me?
“Well,” he grimaces. “Yes, I suppose so.”
The hope plummets just as swiftly.
“I don’t like it, but I don’t see any way out. You’re a very inconvenient young woman, do you know that? Still, your death was supposed to be humane.” He sighs heavily. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped. I’ll go get Igor.”
I swallow the lump rising in my throat at the mention of Igor Vars. He’s got a reputation as being the Devil henchman, and I guess it’s true. He’ll be the one to put the bullet in my head.
“Sorry about this,” says Damien again as he opens the top drawer of the desk, handcuffs my wrists together then chains them to a hook under the table. “I’ll be right back.”
I never imagined my future murderer would apologize so much.
I’m also kicking myself at realizing I never even tried to run away.
Then again, it probably wouldn’t have done a thing.
At most, I would’ve gotten beat up again before getting killed, and I think I’ve stomached as many punches as humanly possible.
Sighing wearily, I let myself fall into the office chair behind the desk. I sink my head in my arms and try to accept my fate, but before I can even begin to try, the door opens again.
My blood turns to ice as I look up quickly, expecting to see the face of my executioner.
Instead, I find myself eye to eye with a girl whose black hair is just as wild as mine. And her eyes, so deeply blue that they appear violet, pierce through the fog surrounding me, making me feel terribly unsettled.
She looks even weirder than me. She has a haunted air about her that contrasts oddly with her cheerful smile.
“Damien—oh.”
She stares at me, and my unfocused eyes stare right back.
“Who are you?”
“Uh, Piper.”
“Piper…” Her brow suddenly clears. “Piper Day?”
“Yeah. How do you know?”
I don’t know why I ask such a stupid question. Of course she knows. Everyone in Astley knows who I am, though somehow I can tell she’s not an Astley girl. She doesn’t have the insufferable rich girl look about her.
Still, at Devil Tower, everyone, whether they grew up in Astley or not, clearly knows Piper Day is about to die at Damien Wells’ hands.
“I heard your name in passing,” she hesitates. “Damien mentioned you.” She stares at me in sudden suspicion. “How do you know him?”
“I don’t.” The whole situation feels absurd. I lie my throbbing head down on my hands. “He wants me dead, and I have no idea why.”
She’s still in the room moments later when I look back up. Even in the fog, I can tell she looks upset.
“Who’s Damien to you?” I ask. “Who are you, anyway?”
She hesitates again, weighing her words as if she’s not used to talking much. “Seraphina,” she says at last. “And Damien… well…” she swallows, then concludes in a low voice, “I love him.”
I can’t help but snort. “So you’re in love with a killer.”
So am I, I think the next second, but the words are already out.
But she doesn’t seem upset.
“I guess so,” she sighs. “But I didn’t think he would… kill someone like you.”
“Someone like me,” I echo. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Someone… like us,” she murmurs, closing the distance between us, and I suddenly understand.
A young woman who never did a thing. A helpless girl whose only crime was being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
“Who hurt you?” she asks, eyeing my bruises.
“No one. I don’t know. Can’t you help me?”
I choke out the words as she kneels in front of me, adding in a broken voice, “Please, Seraphina.”
She looks like she really wants to, but still, she’s hesitating. I try to telegraph to her all my desperation, but her eyes are no longer on mine. She stares down at the cuffs chained to the desk, deep in thought.
But before she can do a thing, the door opens again, and Damien walks back in, followed by Igor.
When he sees her, he looks annoyed.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Well, here I am.” He brings his hands up to her cheeks, and in that moment, I know it’s useless.
I recognize the look of adoration in her eyes as he plants a soft kiss on her, because it’s the same look I used to give Quill.
The look that says, I will go anywhere with you. I will do anything for you. And I will look the other way for you.
I close my eyes, tired of this constant roller coaster of emotions. Then one last pinprick of hope enters my mind.
“Goodbye, Seraphina,” I call after her, as Damien leads her away. “Tell Logan I said goodbye!”
Damien closes the door, and I breathe easier, seeing Igor hasn’t come in with him. Then the Devil CEO faces me, staring at me in a mix of confusion and anger. “What the fuck was that? You know my girl’s name?”
Not such a gentleman after all, I tell myself, as he walks toward me, clearly seething. “Why the fuck did you just have my girl’s name in your mouth?”
His hand wraps itself around my neck, but he doesn’t squeeze. He just stands before me, letting me feel the full height and breadth of him.
He definitely gives Quill a run for his money in the muscle department.
“She introduced herself to me,” I say honestly, watching as a muscle twitches in his jaw. I don’t know why I’m provoking him while at death’s door. Maybe because I’m at death’s door, so who the fuck cares? “We had a nice long chat,” I add, somewhat less truthfully.
At that, he lets go of my neck and takes a few steps back, chuckling.
I frown in confusion. “What?”
“You’re cute, Piper. But if you had spent more than one minute in Seraphina’s presence, you would have known she doesn’t do ‘nice long chats’.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip, annoyed with myself.
But Damien sobers up at once. “What the hell did you mean, ‘say goodbye to Logan?’”
I latch onto this new attempt to annoy the hell out of my future killer. “Pretty self-explanatory, right?”
He’s back to glaring at me as he takes another chair in the room, flips it over, and sits down on it, leaning his arms over its back. “Why don’t you go ahead and explain?”
“Well…” I bite my lip again, wondering which possible explanation would rile him up most. “I guess he and I go way back.”
Stupid. Of course he’ll know that’s a lie. They’ve been best friends since they were little after all.
But this time, Damien doesn’t call out my bullshit. He looks carefully at me and says, “I guess you could say that, yes.”
What the hell? I’m very confused at his reaction, but I’m desperate to hide it as I stammer, “So that’s why I told Seraphina to say goodbye to him.”
“And…” Damien clears his throat. “... who told you that you and Logan go way back?”
This time I can’t hide my confusion as I stare at him. Did I just stumble on part of the truth?
Because otherwise, Damien’s questions make literally no sense.
“Logan told me,” I say, taking a shot in the dark.
“Logan?” he repeats, his eyes darkening. “Have you… have you met him?”
“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you that we go way back?”
By the way his eyes are boring into me, I can tell that’s the wrong answer. He clearly believes I know something I don’t. And maybe, just maybe, if he keeps believing it… I’ll be saved.
Or not.
But I decide to quickly add, “Anyway, Logan’s the one who told me you wanted to kill me.”
His eyes grow pitch-black, just as the door opens and Logan walks in.
“Hey, man. You found the girl?”
The look that Damien gives him would be enough to make me grab Igor’s gun and carry out my own murder, just to escape it. And Logan looks more than a little unsettled.
“She knows,” says Damien in a low voice that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “I was just trying to figure out a way to save her. But she knows.”
My eyes widen as Logan’s gaze sweeps over me, a look of studied indifference covering his uneasiness before he glances back at the CEO of Devil.
“She knows,” insists Damien, “because you told her. And now, I have no choice. I have to kill her.”