Page 63 of F*ck It Out With A Devil

“Fucking beautiful. Full of tattoos, okay, I’m not sure if he’s full of them because I could only see the ones not hiding behind his shirt, but he has a face tat. I didn’t think I would like it as much as I did but, mmm, mmm, mmm. It’s a sin for him to be that beautiful. And he’s a great kisser.”

“So, you’re a slut now? Getting it on with three different guys in one night? That’s a record, even for me.”

“Whatever. You clearly missed the part where I said I saw him.”“I didn’t miss it, I just chose not to acknowledge it.” She says, pulling into the lot of my favorite bookstore.

“What I mean is, what if he is a Devil of Cliffside? He didn’t have on a mask and told me it was okay if I took off mine. Plus, he knows where I stay and-”

“And what?”

“I may have had a small episode when the weather started kicking in, right before you called me.”

“Okay, so he got a taste of how storms make you feel. Big deal, it’s not like you know each other’s names or he goes to the college you will be teaching… Oh shit.” We share another look and begin to shake our heads.

“Nah, that can’t be. I mean, what are the chances, right?” I laugh, but it’s a nervous laugh. “What if all of those things are true? It would be such a bad look. The semester hasn’t even started yet, and I’ve already fooled around with potentially three students. What if people find out? That was the quickest way to get sacked at my old job. That’s not something you think they’d fire me for?”

“No, definitely not, you only kissed one of them and the other two you don’t know who they are, or what they look like and the same for you. So, I say stop worrying and bask in the glow that you got some good dick.” She laughs.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go inside, that will definitely lift my spirits.”

Several hours and bags full of stuff later, and she’s dropping me off to Bash’s house.

“Call me later and have fun tonight.” She calls out of the window before taking off. That girl has zero chill, and I can’t wait for somebody to tie her ass down.

The place looks empty, but I know it’s far from that. The staff are probably getting things ready for tonight. I head inside as one of the butlers comes to take my bags.

“It’s okay, Tom, I’ve got them.” I stroll past him and head upstairs to our room.

As I make it to the landing, I hear things crashing and shouting coming from one of the rooms. Very quietly, I walk up to the door, stand there, and listen.

“I don’t give a fuck what he has planned! I won’t let that money-hungry whore invade my life just because she’s marrying my father. I don’t have a mother nor do I want a fucking step-mother that’s probably the same age as me!” He shouts, and it’s downright hurtful.

Backing away from the doorway, I run to my room, slam the door shut, and sink to the floor. How can he think I’m only here for the money? What difference does age make when you love one another?

‘But, do you really love Bash?’ I just love when my subconscious comes and rears her ugly head.

I do love Bash, things are just crazy right now. That’s the lie I tell myself and hope I’ll believe it sooner rather than later. I won’t let him get me down; he doesn’t even know me. So, I do what I do best. I pick myself up off the ground, throw my bags on the bed, and prepare for battle.

I’m not going to give him any indication that I need or want the money Bash tries to shower me with. Me and Aunt Josie make enough to cover everything, thanks to our steady jobs, I don’t need a man to take care of me, and if his son can’t see that then screw him, too.

That’s the last pitiful thought I have before I settle down and get ready to kill it tonight.

Chapter Thirteen

Wyck

“Idon’tgiveafuck what he has planned! I won’t let that money-hungry whore invade my life just because she’s marrying my father. I don’t have a mother nor do I want a fucking step-mother that’s probably the same age as me!” I yell into the phone, slamming it shut.

The audacity of my father, still going through with this lame excuse of a meet and greet. Dash tried to make it seem like this could be a good thing, but I don’t see it. My phone pings with an incoming message.

Asshole: Have your ass downstairs in thirty minutes or else.

Wyck: Fuck off!

I love poking the bear that is my father. Regardless if I don’t want to be there, I’m going to go for the sole purpose of finding out who she is. Once I put a name to her face, I’ll have Dash run a background check on her. I need to know everything there is about mommy dearest since she will be living under this roof from now on.

Several minutes pass by as I manage to get ready to face the music.

Exiting my room, I catch a whiff of gingerbread and have to wonder what the cooks are making downstairs. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

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