Page 93 of The Demons We Hide

“Ma-Ri fired me today,” she says. It hits me, then. The reason for her breakdown.

For someone like Juliet, who’s been let down time and time again by everyone else in her life, having her own funds and own way of making money is imperative. My left hand clenches on the steering wheel so hard that it creaks in protest.

“Fired you?” I repeat the words.

Across the manicured lawn of the single-story house that Nolan and his mom live in, the porch light flickers on and the front door opens. “Yo!” Nolan calls out as he steps outside, shaking a pack of cigarettes in one hand before plucking one free.

I return my attention to the girl halfway out of my vehicle. “Why did she fire you?” I demand.

Shoulders tense and face forced into that damn calm mask of hers, she shrugs. “I don’t know. She didn’t say, but she tried to offer me far more than she should’ve as severance pay.”

I tilt my head to the side. “How much?” I demand.

“Five thousand.”

That doesn’t sound like Ma-Ri at all. The old lady is smart, a keen business woman. She donates to some foundations for immigrants, and after looking into her background and finding out about the small sum she sends to her younger sister every month—Roquel’s mother—I’m pretty comfortable with who she is as a person. Anything she donates to is a tax write off and perhaps, offering Juliet a severance check would have been that too, but five thousand? It’s suspicious.

“Gotta go.” Juliet hops the rest of the way out of my SUV and slams the door behind her. I watch her start up the drive and cut across the lawn, heading straight for Nolan. He nods his head at her in greeting, but she quickly ducks past and heads into the house. His brow furrows and his attention fixes on me.

I lean back and swing an arm out of my already open driver’s side window, waiting for him to get to me. “What’s up with her?” he asks the second he does. He sticks a cigarette between his lips and then fumbles in his pocket for a lighter.

I stare at the front door, watching the outline of her cross in front of the sliver of a window that shines into the living room before she disappears entirely, likely heading for one of the bedrooms or the bathroom.

“Ma-Ri fired her,” I say. I don’t feel bad revealing as much, considering she’d said it a mere twenty feet from Nolan. No doubt, she expected me to give him the news—perhaps save her the work of it.

“What?” Nolan’s jaw drops and with it, the cigarette that had been hanging between his lips.

My hand snaps out and I catch it. “That’s what she just told me,” I say, twisting the cig between my fingers. “She’s not happy about it.”

Nolan looks back at the house. “No, she wouldn’t be,” he murmurs absently.

“I’m gonna head back there and have a word with her.”

Nolan’s head snaps around. “You can’t fucking kill her,” he growls.

I roll my eyes and then lift his forgotten cig, tucking it behind one ear. “I’m not going to kill her,” I reply. “I’m just going to ask her some questions.”

“No guns,” Nolan says. “No knives. You don’t stab, punch, slap, or hurt her in any way, Lex.”

My upper lip curls back. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

He arches an eyebrow at me. “The obsessive kind,” he says easily. “The kind that would do anything for a girl he’s spent thirteen years stalking—even killing a woman who fired her and hurt her damn feelings.”

He’s not wrong and though I love the bastard, sometimes I want to strangle him. “Ma-Ri did more than hurt her feelings,” I say. “She’s…” No, I shouldn’t give away any more.

What had happened on that back road was between Juliet and me. I don’t think she’d remembered it, but it’d been the same place that she’d sat on my cock and come all over my lap, leaving me covered in her scent, and so hard I swore I would die from the sweet agony. It felt like the right location to take her. It was our place.

“She’s what?” Nolan eyes me, but I simply shake my head.

“Nevermind,” I say. “If you want to know more, ask her. I’m not fucking this up.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Because there’s something to fuck up now, isn’t there?” he asks instead.

A low growl rumbles up my throat. “You know the answer to that,” I tell him. “You can’t tell me you’d be willing to walk away from her now.”

He doesn’t answer for several long moments, but when he does, I expect the response. “No, I can’t say I would be.”

I nod and reach for the gear shift. “Alright then,” I say. “I’m going back to Ma-Ri’s and if she’s there, I’m going to ask her some questions.”

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