Page 85 of The Devil's Redemption

It matches the inferno that has been ignited in my soul.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Today ismy first day back at work.

Ellie told me to come in around lunchtime and we could close the diner together tonight. Blade dropped me and Kid—today’s designated bodyguard—off on his way to the garage. Once again, Toni was uncharacteristically nice to me. I believe it’s genuine, but only to an extent. I don’t know what she wants, but she’s trying to get on my good side for some reason. Honestly, I’ll take it if it means I don’t ever have to deal with her attitude again. Whitney? Well, she was quiet as usual.

The Allens came in and were very excited to see me. I could tell almost right away that they heard the rumors. Especially when they didn’t ask me where I’ve been. They made shifty eyes at Kid a few times, but I told them I wouldn’t be doing so well if it weren’t for the Skull.

I may not feel warm and fuzzy walking into the clubhouse, but I do know that I’m welcome. The feeling of home will come eventually. However, those men—all of them—played an integral role in finding me and nursing me back to health. They already have my respect, and the best way I know how to repay them is to right the rumors that were spread after I’d been taken.

“I’ll collect the trash and take it out back to the dumpster,” I tell Ellie.

“Okay, but if it’s too heavy, get Mikey to help you,” she orders.

“I will. Or I’ll just make Kid do it,” I laugh, catching his eyes as his fork full of cherry pie is halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah, I can do that for you,” he answers without hesitation, lowering his fork back down onto the plate.

It makes me feel bad. He’s such a grunt for these guys. Obviously, he wouldn’t be doing it if he didn’t want to, but he deserves a break, too.

“No, no, I was just kidding. You enjoy the pie,” I insist. “There isn’t much anyway.”

“Okay, but let me know if you need help.”

“I promise,” I tell him.

I put the bottle of disinfectant we use to clean the tables back in the stationary tub on the side of the kitchen opposite of where the food is stored and cooked. Then I toss my rag into the laundry bin that Lucky’s comes to pick up. They take the dirty and drop off the clean each morning, Monday through Friday.

Once that is finished, I go around to each trash station and tie up the bags before pulling them from the bins. I grab two of the four bags and take them outside. I smile as I step outside, thinking about Blade. This spot will forever hold good memories for me. I pull open the sliding door in the side of the dumpster and cringe at the smell of rotten food and God only knows what else coming from inside. Quickly, I hoist each bag through the opening and into the large metal box.

As I turn and head back into the kitchen, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see it’s a text message from Blade.

Carson: I’m not used to being away from you for this long anymore. I don’t like it.

I smile reading his words because I feel exactly the same way. I used to roll my eyes at movies or people who were this lovesick over someone, but now that I know what it feels like, I realize I was just jealous of them.

Me: Not much longer. Looking forward to seeing you when I get home.

Carson: I’m looking forward to it, too. You know what else I’m looking forward to?

Me: What’s that?

Carson: Having you put on that purple thong of yours that I love so much. Then fucking you with it on, possibly reenacting the first time we ever had sex.

My cheeks heat, and my clit throbs as I picture the authoritative way he owned my body the first time he fucked me.

Me: As long as you don’t lock me back in that cell afterward

Carson: That was definitely not my finest hour…

I laugh at his response. I’m about to respond to him when another message comes through.

Carson: My cock has been hard as a fucking rock all day, thinking about you. Thinking about the night of the party when I threw you over my shoulder and everything that happened after that. Did you like when I spanked your tight, sexy ass, little girl?

I gasp with pleasure, thinking about it. I’m too shy to admit it, but it would be easier to do so over text than face-to-face.

Me: More than I ever thought possible, Carson.

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