Page 20 of The Devil's Weakness

Hopping out of my truck, I jog across the parking lot to the office. I tap the top of the service bell repeatedly until a little man appears from the room behind the desk. He takes the bell away and looks at me like I just ran over his cat.

“What?” he snaps.

“I’m looking for a girl who may or may not have rented a room from you last night.”

I pull out the picture of Sasha’s license and unfold it, showing it to him. When the look on his face turns from irritation to gratification, I reach across the desk and grab a fist full of his shirt before lifting him over the piece of furniture.

Forcing him down on the surface of the desk, I shout.

“Where is she? I swear to God if you touched one hair on her head, I’ll fucking kill you,” I promise him.

I rarely waste my time with threats.

“I didn’t touch her,” he responds in a creepy, sing-song voice.

My top lip curls in disgust as a psycho-ass smile spreads across his face.

“Which room?”

“Hehehe, eleven,” he fucking giggles.

I let go of him and walk behind the desk in search of extra room keys. Opening and closing all the drawers, they’re nowhere to be found.

“Where are the spare keys?” I shout.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs his shoulders with exaggeration, like a little kid.

“Would you fucking remember for a hundred bucks?”

I pull out my wallet, take out some twenties, and slam them down on the desk.

He smiles as he rounds the desk and joins me behind it. Opening a cabinet in the room that he first appeared from, he pulls a key off of a hook inside of it. Before he hands it to me, he snatches the money off of the desk.

As soon as he holds it out, I grab it from his hand and walk toward the door.

“Just one more thing,” he sings again.

I turn around and face him but say nothing.

“Clean up your mess when you’re done with her.”

He wiggles his eyebrows before all the emotion leaves his face. Then he walks back into the back room and slams the door behind him.

I think Sasha is in more danger here than she’ll ever be with the Skull and me.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” I mutter to myself as I walk out the door.

I parked my truck near the entrance of the parking lot, a pretty good distance from Sasha’s room. I didn’t want to make it obvious that someone was watching her. I walk back in that direction, my back to Sasha’s door, so I can grab the roll of duct tape from my glove compartment before I go check on her. I don’t expect an issue when taking her, but I want to have it with me in the event I need it.

As soon as I open the door and climb into the cab, I hear a female’s voice behind me scream, “What the fuck!?”

I know who it is and what it’s about without even needing to turn around. I climb the rest of the way into my seat and close my door gently, so I don’t attract her attention. Then I watch her from the cover of my illegally tinted windows.

At least now I know she didn’t get away.

Her hand is tangled in her wet hair. She looks freshly showered, and the thought has me picturing her naked, soaking wet body. I watch as she places one hand to her mouth and rests the other on the top of her head. I feel a tightness in my chest that I’m not fond of when I see her legs go weak, and she folds to the ground beneath her.

This is it. This is the perfect time to swoop in and take her. She’s weak, vulnerable… the perfect target. But she’s not weak. She proved that when she stood up to me behind the diner two years ago. She didn’t like when I called her a little girl. Her fire ignited long-forgotten feelings within me. I wanted to drag her back to the clubhouse right then and see how tough she was after I fucked her senseless.

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