“A thousand bucks says he was with that redhead,” Dean chimes in.
“I’ll take the bet. He never sleeps over.” Carter enters the conversation with such conviction, but he’ll be down a grand once I open my mouth.
“You know I’d never pull shit like that on you, but I was...” I’m not sure how to explain the rest. “kinda tied up to a bed for the whole night.”
Connor’s grinning and bobbling his head at what he thinks the rest of the story holds. Should I just tell them a crazy chick got me tied down? I wouldn’t be lying after all.
“No, I didnotget laid,” I admit, against my better judgment.
Everyone goes silent, staring at me like I have shit on my forehead.
“Color me confused,” Link says.
I brace myself for the embarrassing truth, which no amount of careful wording could cover. It’s like putting powdered sugar over a pile of stinking shit and calling it a cake.
“Summer knocked me unconscious when I broke into her room. I woke up tied to the bed, which, by the way, she had fuckin’ reinforced.” I make sure to drive home the point so they, at the very least, won’t mock me for not getting free. “She teased me and left me with a raging hard-on, gagged with her panties and her—completely naked—sleeping next to me for the whole night.” I didn’t mean to blurt it all out, but summarizing the highlights of the evening might give them a taste of what kind of woman I’m dealing with. “Do you believe me now when I say she’s a fuckin’ demon?”
Count to three, and everyone bursts out laughing, and I have zero desire to stay back and listen to their jokes on my behalf.
“Fuck you all!” I bark, heading for the stairs.
“I’m sure you want to after the night you’ve had.” Carter snorts.
“You’re officially off the hook, given you were...tied up,” Link shouts after me, keeping theirlaughter alive.
“I’m taking a shower, and we’re heading for Warehouse 4, and then the gallery. I don’t want to hear any more jokes about how I spent my night!” I yell from upstairs, but that does nothing to interrupt their howling, my bark at them lost like a whisper in the wind.
After a long shower, doing what I couldn’t do all night, I can confirm Summer made a serial masturbator out of me.
My hopes of going downstairs and no longer being mocked are quixotic dreams, because the moment I’m there, Carter takes a few hits at me. Seems I’m the inspiration for his sense of humor to grace the house again, and Connor is right there laughing along with his brother. I want them on better terms, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy to be their entertainment topic. I try to shut them down, but every time I cut one head off, figuratively, they are like a fuckin’ hydra. Two more pop up.
They roast me at the house, in the car, with Carter even calling me while driving right behind me just to keep it going. They don’t stop once we get to the warehouse, waiting for Barry to show up. This is not ending any time soon.
The tirade only hits pause once Barry arrives. I point to the backroom, and he doesn’t ask any questions before getting inside. Carter and Link opt to wait outside, making sure the task of distributing the art to different warehouses is promptly executed in multiple shipments.
“Here’s the list.” I approach the boy, noticing how he’s afraid to make eye contact but forces himself. He knows what happens when he doesn’t. “You know what to do, right?”
“Yes, sir.” No stutter. Just a shaky voice.
“Don’t screw this up! I’d hate to have to come for you,” Dean adds, and the way Barry’s whole body shudders gives the impression he’s a little bit damaged, after all.
“Do you have anything else for me?”
“No, sir. Mr. Holt... I mean, the other Mr. Holt hasn’t contacted me yet. I’m supposed to give him the list next Monday.”
“And about the girl? Do you have a name, or do you know if he still follows her?”
“I was with my friend this morning when Mr. Holt told him his services are no longer required, because her boyfriend paid her a visit in class. Her name is Summer. That’s as much as I could overhear from the conversation.”
Balling my hands into fists until my knuckles turn white prompts Barry to take a step back. Then he takes another one. Did my face just go apoplectic?
The desire to bury my cousin has never been stronger than at this moment, as a blood-red haze swallows my vision. Because of him, my Succubus was stalked by someone...other than me.
Dean’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I realize I’ve gone too far, traumatizing the boy in the room with my maddened expression, when the one man who’s always unbothered by how insane I get actually reacts.
I force myself into steady breaths to look less homicidal.
“Go! The guys outside will pay you half now, half when you complete the job,” I grit, jutting my head for the door, before Barry bolts out of the room.
