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I’ve heard those words before, and I know what they mean. The cops knew what they meant and left her alone to be further abused by that pile of shit.
The suddenness of the car stopping in front of my home sends a jolt through me.
“Your humble abode, sir,” Uriel says with a laugh.
“Fuck off,” I mutter.
Getting out of the car, I stop, lean my head back in and add, “I don’t give a fuck what Lucifer or Simon says, I will not be chauffeured around any longer.”
Slamming the car door shut, I can tell I’ve left both of my fellow brothers in the car confused by my sudden anger.
They don’t know of the words ringing through my skull.
Angry, wrathful mutterings filter through my brain as my little voices tell me the truth.
Walking up the driveway to my house, I look around and try to spot any potential attackers out there.
Any threats to my well-being.
Nothing.
Nothing to vent my rage on.
The house looks bleak as always to my bored mind.
It’s a cold construct that has no warmth or draw to it.
When they forced me to find a home for myself in this forsaken land, I chose something that fit the mood I was in. Bland, bored, and without any distinguishing character to it.
I wasn’t planning on being hobbled to the city for longer than my recuperation took.
But look at me now… it’s been how many solitary days of confinement in this suburban hell?
Walking into the house, I enter my code to set the alarm.
Is this the home I’m going to bring my angel back to?
She has a child, and the barren rooms are hardly child ready.
The kitchen is brand spanking new, all clean and stainless steel. No coffee stains on the counters, no errant spoon left in the sink. The fridge has the little food I need to survive, nothing else.
The basement holds my home gym, it’s used frequently, but it still looks like I’ve only existed here.
Cold and empty has been more comforting to me in my years than warm and inviting. When you’re a nomad for a crime family, attachments do not last long in this world.
Will bringing Eden and her child here be something I regret?
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial James.
“Dude, I was almost in bed,” James yawns into the phone.
Checking my watch, I frown before I remember he’s one of the married men now. One of the domesticated, who’s enjoying homelife.
“My apologies, I forget you’re no longer out in the clubs at this time,” I say with a small laugh.
“Jude, those days are so far past me. Ten o’clock comes around and I’m on the couch watching Who’s Your Sugar Daddy with Sophia,” James says with another yawn.
“Yes, well…” I say, and for the life of me I have absolutely no clue what he’s talking about. “I need your assistance in a small matter.”
