We were the last to enter the house. Cobra was already leading Arlen up the stairs, boasting about her being his new housemate. The second the conditioned air hit my skin I noticed a few key elements.
1: The house wasn’t actually that much larger than his warehouse and had the same setup—almost.
2: Romero had a lucarative lifestyle because of his position; he had nice, luxurious things.
3: The whole satanic theme was ten times worse here than at his old place.
The main ceiling fixture was a black ram head in the center of an inverted pentacle that held four light fixtures.
The large flag was on his open dining room hall, but black and white and instead of red and white. And the wall fixtures were deep golden ram heads that served as placeholders for candelabras in the shape of inverted crosses.
Everything else was normal, if not a little too masculine––all dark brown hardwood and charcoal coloring.
Romero didn’t bother giving me a tour or explaining his décor; he led me straight up the stairs and through a set of black double doors at the end of the hallway. He had me shoved against the wall with his mouth devouring mine without giving me a chance to look around. I kissed him back, greedily.
He let me go and stepped away, running a hand over his lips. I inhaled the smell of him and looked around the room. The bed was black, large, and wrought iron. There were matching dressers and leather loveseat. A flat TV hung on one of the charcoal-colored walls.
“It’s very you,” I said, taking note of the Sigil of Baphomet on the ceiling above his bed.
“You don’t find it creepy to have the symbol of Satan staring at you while you sleep?”
“That symbol represents my life.”
Right, he had a point.
“We need to talk.” He peeled me off the door and led me to the sofa, sinking down with me on his lap.
“I have the doc arriving tomorrow to check you over. I’ll be here until I get a lead, but I’ve got a lot of shit to catch up on. You’re free to do whatever you want here.”
I nodded. I wanted him superglued to my side, but that really wouldn’t be the best idea for us considering how up and down we could get.
Plus, someone had to make sure the Badlands stayed in order––that someone being him. There had to be something left to keep.
“I get it.” I trailed a finger across his jawline.
“And there’s a gathering tonight. I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“A gathering? Oh, fuck that!” I jumped off his lap and glared down at him. “You’re not doing that freaky goat shit with someone else. You can just cut off your dick right now if you expect me to be okay with that.”
His mouth twitched, giving away the fact that he was trying to hold back a smile.
“I would never let anyone touch my dick but you, Cali. That was an initiation; I won’t be claiming any other woman like that in this lifetime. This is just a gathering because I’ve been gone so long. I need to update them on what’s happening and let them see your face.”
“Oh.” What else could I say? I was beginning to see this whole devil/king thing wasn’t a role or him playing a character; it was real life, our reality. I could accept it—no, Ididaccept it. I would proudly stand by his side like the queen I was.
“How are you handling everything?” he asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” I shrugged.
I hadn’t given myself a chance to analyze what anything he’d said earlier meant. “I don’t consider either of those men my father. One used me, and the other left me. I’m more concerned about what was done to you.”
He looked up at the ceiling for a minute and then nodded to himself. “Sit down, Cali. I need to tell you something you should’ve known a long time ago.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
There was a ton of shit I would never tell Cali.
But then there were things I figured I’d been wrong about her knowing that maybe she should.
