Page 2 of The Demons We Hide

1

LEX

Present day…

The night glow of my computer screens illuminates the keys under my fingers with just enough light for me to see what I'm hitting as my hands fly from one side to the other. I type in code after code, a muscle in my jaw jumping as I scan the documents I pull up.

The second Silverwood General Hospital uploaded notes about Gio's condition, they were downloaded to both my computer and phone. Two fractured ribs, a busted nose, and severe internal and external bruising. None of that was concerning, though. No. The major injury had been the one to his head, one he'd still yet to wake up from.

TBI—Traumatic Brain Injury. Just reading it had made my pulse pick up and sweat coat my brow. If it hadn't been for Cory, Gio might've died today. Here one moment and gone the next.

An alarm sounds on one of my upper monitors. I jerk my head up and swing my mouse in its direction, clicking open the series of cameras that overlook the property surrounding the carriage house. I’d poured every dollar I'd scraped and saved working for Darrio Vargas into both the renovations of the two-hundred-year-old structure as well as protecting the perimeter of my aunt’s farm.

Not once in the two years that I'd lived out here had I ever actually had a trip on one of the cameras that hadn’t been more than an animal passing through. Considering the nature of the 5C0RP10N’s work as well as my assignments with Darrio Vargas’ gang, I could never be too cautious.

Tonight is obviously the night for the unusual because as my mouse hovers over the camera in the furthest quadrant of the property, I nearly vault out of my fucking chair.

No. Fucking. Way.

A familiar figure strides down the dark back road of the farm, and I watch as, even in the rain, she makes easy work of climbing the gate that keeps out unwanted traffic. She bypasses the ranch house and keeps walking farther and farther, and I know where she’s heading. She’s coming forme.

My phone buzzes, no doubt with a fresh alarm of an intruder, as on my computer screen, her figure disappears out of the corner of one camera and appears in the next.

“Fuck.” I dive into my pocket and pull out my cell only to stop with another curse. Nolan is still sans cell phone until I can deliver another. I glance around the small back room, my eyes taking in the various pictures of the woman now striding determinedly down the road towards my fucking house.

“Shit. Shit!Shit!” I drag both hands up my face and through my hair, stopping and gripping the strands as I watch her move across the monitors. She doesn’t falter, doesn’t stop or look back like she’s nervous. Her long, jean-covered legs eat up the distance, and as I watch her, my heart begins to race.

Here. She’s coming here. To seeme. It would be a dream come true were it not for the fact that since Juliet came into our world—my world—Nolan has been warning me against having her here. My gaze flashes to the pictures on the wall. Pictures of her. Snapshots of her throughout her life.

I don’t want her to run. If she runs… I don’t know what I’ll do. An image of trapping Juliet in this very house, of tying her to my bed and having her there to cling to each and every night rises up in my mind. My cock twitches in my pants, a ready participant in the fantasy.

This is bad. This is so fucking bad.

Juliet Donovan is coming to see me, and I doubt anyone knows. If she were to just… disappear… she doesn’t have anyone to look for her anymore. Not her father. Not her mother. That Morpheus fucker isn’t even her real family. He hasn’t been the one taking care of her for the last several weeks. I have.Wehave.

Nolan.Gio.Fuck. A. Fucking. Duck. I can’t do this.

I glance back to the door that leads out into the hallway. Dropping my arms, I snatch the ring of keys hanging on a hook next to the door and move out of the room. Never in my life have I been so grateful for all of my surreptitiousness. I go down the line, locking three various deadbolts using different mechanisms on the door to my inner sanctuary.

If she’s going to be here, then she can’t find it. If she’s coming to me, then maybe Nolan will let her stay with me. I’ll keep my secrets. I’ll make sure she doesn’t find out. We can keep her.Ican keep her. I’ll make her happy—so fucking happy that she’ll never even think about running from us again.

Excitement quickens my steps as I hurry towards my bedroom. The old carriage house had once been one large open space. It’d originally been little more than a dirt floor and four walls and a roof. Now, though, I’m grateful for how I’d renovated.

It’s not big by any means, but large enough for a bedroom, the small closet-like room I use as my secret office, a bathroom, and a living room/kitchenette area. If she’s going to be staying with me, she’ll have to sleep in my bed. I don’t have another one.

My bed.

I freeze in the doorway to my bedroom and close my eyes as my cock makes another jump against my pants. A shiver skates down my spine. What will it be like to wake up in the morning with her blue hair all over my pillows? Will she let me hold her? Kiss her?

A groan works its way up my throat. Will she let me crawl back between her legs and eat her until she comes against my lips and tongue?

Shaking off the fantasies that might very well become reality, I hurriedly turn on the lights and rush to strip the sheets from my bed. Tossing them into the old hamper in the closet, I remake the bed with the black satin sheets my aunt got me for Christmas the year before. Brand new and straight out of the packaging. Girls like satin, right? Will she?

By the time I make it to the front door, I’m certain she’s already almost there. I undo the locks, starting at the top and working my way to the bottom. Ten fucking locks.

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea, and not just because of Gio’s old man. Darrio Vargas might pay decent money for a small-town drug dealer, but my real money had come later. 5C0RP10N could outdo the Vargas street gang any day of the week, but I would continue running the shithead’s errands for as long as my boys did.

Whatever shit we were in—we did it together. Always.

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