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Chapter 1
2013
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“BABE, DO YOU WANT SALTon your popcorn?”
I look over to see Noah Hell, the man of my dreams, standing there at the stove, saltshaker poised over a freshly popped pot of his famous popcorn as I gather the fixings for margaritas. Sweethearts since high school and all through college, the man can still cause my breath to freeze in my throat and my heart skip a beat with his boyish grin.
I set the ice tray, lime juice and tequila on the counter by the blender before walking over to him. I reach up and run my fingers through his dark hair.
I adore his hair. It’s one of the many reasons I fell for his rakish good looks in the first place. Because truth be told, he was a bit of an ass when I first met him; being rich and the captain of the football team went to his head. That all changed the day he realized I was not the type of girl he was used to that fell at his feet. I made him work for my affections and love.
“Sure, just a bit though,” I murmur, staring into his blue eyes.
He swoops his head down and plants his mouth against mine as his hands go to my ass, coping a quick feel. “I can do that.” He sets me back and grabs the saltshaker again. “Do you have everything for the margaritas?”
I turn towards the pantry and call over my shoulder. “Just need to get the Triple sec.”
“Well hurry up. The movie is about to start,” he said, shoving a handful of the popcorn into his mouth. He kissed his fingers — “Perfecto!”
“Here,” I said, setting the bottle on the counter as he grabbed the lime and squeezed it a few times before slicing it with a sharp knife.
“Do you want yours frothy?” I asked, as I scooped ice into the blender.
“Yeah baby.” Picking up a glass, he shoots me a wolfish smile as he runs a slice of lime along the rim before dipping it into salt.
Together we make short work getting the margaritas ready and I’m pouring the last bit into the glasses before he sets them on a tray.
“Ready?” I ask, grasping the tray by the handles.
“Here, you take the popcorn, I’ll carry the drinks.” He shoves the bowl at me as his hands replace mine on the handles.
I give him a look.
“What, Ava?” He shrugs as his body shakes with laughter. “You’re a klutz, and we don’t want these beauties to go to waste, now do we?”
I laugh because he’s right. “No, we don’t.” My eyes dart to the stove to make sure he turned the burner off and notice the time. “Shit, come on, the movie has already started, and I don’t want to have to pay to reorder it.”
I head to the basement stairs where our living room is and start down the carpeted steps. “I really want to pull this shag carpet up and replace it with a runner,” I said as I feel it tickle my bare feet.
“What? No! You know I love it.”
“You’re joking right? It’s gross and if you’re not barefoot, slippery as hell.”
The words were no sooner out of my mouth and Noah said, “Whoooa!” just before he slipped and crashed into me. He sent the margaritas flying as he tried to catch me but to know avail.
Together, we tumbled down the steep steps landing at the base of the stairs as the popcorn and margaritas rained over our still, sightless, bodies...
I shake myself, bringing myself back to the present as I sit in front of the otherworldly glass window. The window that anyone who has the miserable pleasure of being a current resident of Hell can use whenever they wish. It’s Satan’s gift to remind us all why we ended up in the furnace. For reasons unknown, I ended up in the netherworld while Noah ended up in Heaven. I wasn’t a bully, nor was I a mastermind of misdeeds but for some reason I’m here. When I questioned Satan, his only response was that I was needed. It took me 10 long years to accept that and in those ten years, I’ve become the masters most trusted helper. Not that I like it one bit, but hey, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do to get by.
Now don’t start thinking I’m his concubine... far from it. Not that he didn’t want that, but he does love a challenge instead. It was settled that I would become his hitman for those that need a little bit of encouragement to do the wrong thing.
“AVA!” Speak of the Devil and he shall bellow.
Pulling myself off the floor, I walk towards the meeting hall, greeting others as I pass by. As I enter, I head over to Satan’s throne atop of a dais.
I lean on my hip and cross my arms, raising a brow I look at him. “You bellowed?”
