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The room is quiet except for Lyr’s wild breathing. She did it. My Strawberry Girl didn’t just face her demons; she conquered them. I want to tell her inner child that she’s safe now, and I make a mental note to do that later.

Lyr breathes heavily above his body for a few moments and then pushes herself into standing upright. She admires her work and turns to me, but the look on her face isn’t one of pride—it’s fear.

I whirl around to find Cash standing behind me. He’s visibly pissed, and it occurs to me that Lyr is in danger. I don’t know why I didn’t think about this sooner, but I didn’t. She and Cash are on the same playing field now, and we don’t know when the reaper plans on coming back. Shit.

Cash charges forward, and I fling my arm out to stop him. He attempts to shove my arm down, and I grab him by the throat and force him into the wall.

Spitting in his face as I narrow my eyes and growl, “Don’t you dare touch her. I am not the one, and the In-Between is not a place you want to fuck around and find out. Hands to yourself, asshole.”

Cash doesn’t fight; he just shakes his head as best he can, and I reluctantly release him. He grabs at his throat and staggers backward as he creates distance between us. He’s a fast learner. I’ll give him that.

I turn to Lyr and reach for her hand. She places hers in mine when she’s suddenly tackled by Cash. He slams her into the wall, then grabs her, forcing her in front of him, and then locks her in a chokehold. I dart forward when Cash stops me by speaking.

“Don’t come any closer… or else.”

I roll my eyes.

“Or else what?” I snap.

“Or else I’ll destroy her soul.”

Running his tongue along his teeth, he smiles maliciously. He’s bluffing. He’s been dead, for what? Two minutes? He couldn’t possibly know how to do something like that.

“You’re lying.” I say.

“Do you really wanna find out if that’s true or not?” he chuckles.

Before I’m able to respond, a bright light encapsulates the room, and the four of us face the direction in which it’s coming from. When I look back, Cash continues to stand there with Lyr in his grip and a shocked look on his face. A portal appears from where the light is shining, and the Grim Reaper enters the space.

The Reaper scans the room, directing his words at Lyr.

“We had a deal. I’ve come to collect what’s mine.” He plainly states.

Lyr nods before being interrupted by Cash.

“What do you mean you had a deal? You tortured me, and now this? You cunt!” he shouts angrily.

“Fuck you, Cash,” she chokes.

“You deserved everything you got and then some. I don’t wanna hear shit about it. You were gonna die today, regardless.”

Cash angrily shoves Lyr forward, and time slows down as I watch the woman I love fall into a portal to Hell.

CHAPTER 44

LYRIC

My screaming ceases when I land in a pile of bones. I’m immediately startled and scramble out of them. I survey the area. Flames line textured walls while cobwebs cast shadows into the corners and dark crevices of what looks like a cave surrounding me. From what I see, there are no entrances or exits, and suddenly I feel like I’m suffocating. The reality of being trapped settles over me.

Trying to distract myself from that awareness, I continue to look around to better navigate my unfortunate situation. There are multiple portals on the ground, each one radiating a bright light. I inch toward one of them, and fear keeps me from making any noise or being seen. When I look down into the portal, I discover it’s not a portal at all and that I’m staring at a basin of tortured souls. My stomach drops at the sound of their painful groans and agonizing screams. I wonder what they all did to deserve this.

Echoing voices in an unfamiliar language reverberate off the walls. Panicking, I search for somewhere to hide. Not knowing where I’m at easily hinders me, leaving me vulnerable, and I lock eyes with two demons as they flawlessly enter the space through a random portal that appears in the wall.

The two demons stand side by side. Towering over me at six-foot-four, they appear to be naked and in the form of human males. They have two horns growing out of their foreheads and devious smiles revealing straight, pearly-white teeth. The shadows cast from the flames define their muscles and abs, visible happy trails disappearing below their waists; their cocks the size of a two-litre bottle, not in circumference, just in length. I can see the veins protruding from them from here. I catch myself drooling, and flick my tongue at the corner of my mouth to catch the spit.

“And who are you?” The one on the left asks.

“Lyric,” I blurt.