Page 33 of Sin Like the Devil

Ignoring the sarcasm dripping from my voice, Elon frogmarches me through reception and towards the south wing. I don’t bother looking back at Langley. That man needs to learn when to give up.

Once we’re in an empty corridor, Elon drops his voice. “You’re late on inventory.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it? Yeah? Unacceptable.”

Wrangling my wrist from his crushing grip, I pull a folded piece of paper from my sweatpants. Elon quickly takes it from me, his thin lips pursed. He scans over the neatly scribed lines of items with his steely gunmetal gaze.

Folding my arms below my chest, I don’t let my apprehension show. I’ve only added a few extras to my usual contraband order, small quantities I can sneak into a stockpile for my arrangement with Noah. Anything in large amounts would rouse suspicion.

Elon quickly refolds and pockets the list. “Don’t be late again. We say jump, you say how high. Got that?”

“It was a couple of days. Cool off, will you?”

Grey eyes hardening, he takes a step closer. “Did you not learn your lesson? I’ve got a padded cell with your name on it if not.”

I should be playing this smart, but fuck it. Today is not the day to be all up in my business. I’m already struggling to stay afloat.

“If you lock me up in solitary, who is gonna sell your shit?”

His nose wrinkles in disgust. “You think we can’t find another desperate bitch to do our bidding?”

“I imagine you’d only have to look in the mirror to find that.”

“You little?—”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Is there a problem here?”

That raspy voice, filled with palpable self-assurance, apparently shocks Elon out of his rage. He glances over his shoulder to find Raine in the middle of the corridor, one hand holding a violin case, the other wrapped around the guide stick clasped in front of him.

Gleaming blonde hair slicked back, his blacked-out glasses rest above his full lips, stretched in a smirk. I don’t know who puts his outfits together, but between the glasses, ripped grey jeans and loose tee, he looks every part the violin-toting rockstar.

“Keep moving,” Elon barks.

Raine readjusts his grip on the guide stick. “I was actually on my way to see Ripley here.”

“You were?” I gape at him.

His grin widens at my surprised tone. “Still got time to help me with that art project? It’s uh, rather urgent.”

The subtle cocking of his brow would be humorous if I didn’t know who this guy is friends with. I don’t know what’s worse… a run in with Elon or accepting help from Lennox’s latest puppet.

“Sure,” I say uneasily. “I have some time.”

“Great. Lead the way.”

Sauntering up to me with his stick tapping away, he offers his elbow. I quickly step out of Elon’s reach and take the proffered arm. Raine follows without question, letting me guide him down the thick carpet towards the classrooms.

Out the corner of my eye, I see Elon ball his fists and glower at Raine. He quickly abandons any plan to follow us, probably disappearing to take care of his list. When he vanishes, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You’re welcome, guava girl,” Raine whispers.

I quickly release his elbow. “My body wash is papaya, alright?”

“Oh, I’ve been made aware. Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it though, does it?”

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