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“How was it?” Sky asks as I enter our dressing room.
“Boring.” I huff as I pull out my vial of coke.
“You need to quit that shit.” She tuts.
Sky no longer strips and she’s become the manager of The Sanctuary. That’s right, I even named my club similar to The Temple back home. I want him to find me but it’s been nearly a year without any sign of them. Nothing in the news and nothing here, it’s almost disappointing. Sky healed well and pushed forward, she handled her trauma with professional help and I am so proud of her. She helped me with my process of healing too and I wouldn’t be where I am now if I didn’t have her.
But that’s where the similarities end. Sky has forgiven them and she just wants to live the rest of her life in peace. I respect that. Just like she respects that I will gut that fucker on sight if he ever shows his face again, no matter how much my soul yearns for him.
I drop the vial back in the drawer and grab the small metal item beside it, my finger brushing over the etchings like always. I was shocked when I dumped the bag Hail gave us and the knife fell out. The last I knew, it was buried deep in his shoulder, and I can’t see Hail wanting to give it back to me. I’ve always wondered who packed our bag.
“You good?” Sky asks and I slam the drawer shut, the knife rattling on the inside sounding loud in our small room.
“Of course,” I smile at her through the mirror on my vanity.
“You should go home and rest, you’ve had a long day.” She says as she walks to the door, heading to her office.
Our ‘home’ is right here, on the second floor, and the doorway that leads to the stairs is in this very room. That’s right, I live and work here, and I barely leave. I don’t want to take the chance that I’ll miss him if he ever shows up.
I know, it’s sick like I said but I am obsessed.
Raiden
I watch her ass swing from side to side as she leaves the stage, her back a myriad of scars crisscrossing together. Their beauty makes me proud. I’ve been watching her for a few weeks, she was easy to find as I’m sure she knows, and as soon as the plane landed, I was here in her club. She hasn’t changed a single thing about herself and I grin knowing my demon wanted me to find her.
The lights drop and the music for in between sets starts, the chatter of men rising up with it. She bought a place that looks eerily similar to The Temple and she even named it as though they are sisters. The Sanctuary. Not only is it a bright blinking beacon, but it screams Christianity and everything I hate. I have to hand it to her, she’s fucking cunning, and her jabs are hits to kill.
I watch the next dancer on the stage, her face void of emotion, and her body stiff, this is a necessity not a desire. I respect that but she has nothing on my demon. When her time is up, she exits through the same door as Tempest, and again I fight the urge to follow.
“The usual?”
I give a quick nod, not bothering to take my eyes off the stage, and I wait for the next dancer. None of them hold her appeal, her haunting grey eyes suck you in, and when her dark, tortured soul traps you, there’s nowhere to run. She was made for me.
I hear the clink of the glass as it hits the wooden tabletop, my usual - soda water.
“He’s been asking about you.” I say as I pick up the glass and take a drink.
“She plays with her knife and dreams about killing you.” She retorts.
I snort and finally take my eyes off the dancer on the stage. I look deep into Sky’s chocolate browns and grin, her face annoyed at my mentioning Hail.
“What will she do when she finds out you’ve known about me all along?” I take another sip.
“Probably kill me, too.” She turns and then calls over her shoulder, “she’s done for the night but she’ll be back on again tomorrow, same time.”
I lay a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill on the table and stand from my seat, my eyes straining to the back doorway just beyond the stage. I want to march back there, grab my woman, and throw her over my shoulder, even if it means her knife will end up embedded in my back.
Soon, Demon, I’ll have you singing for me again.
Soon.
