Page 16 of Devils Cut

"Fine," I bite out, not bothering to hide the venom in my voice.

He scoffs and walks back to his motorcycle with a swagger that makes me want to punch him right in his smug face.

I climb into my car, slamming the door shut as if it could somehow drown out the humiliation and rage coursing through me. The engine roars to life beneath me, the vibrations doing nothing to calm my nerves. My fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as I force myself to breathe.

Did I just trade one hell for another?

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I trailed behind Corvus, the rumble of his bike echoing through the empty streets. The town passed by in a blur of neon signs and flickering streetlights, but there was only one thing on my mind: where the fuck was he taking me?

As we left the town behind, the scenery shifted, giving way to vast stretches of open road. The afternoon sky stretched above us, a tapestry of semi-darkness slowly giving way to the moon. And then, just as suddenly as we'd left civilization, it reappeared in the form of a small brick house nestled on the outskirts, surrounded by trees and wildflowers.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered under my breath as I pulled up beside Corvus' bike. The house was nothing like I'd expected; no looming mansion filled with dark secrets or a heavily fortified safe

house bristling with weapons. Instead, it was simple, even cute, with its white picket fence bordering the front yard.

The gravel crunched beneath the tyres, breaking the eerie quiet that surrounded us. It was almost like stepping into another world entirely.

"Alright," Corvus said as he dismounted his bike, his voice low and authoritative. "Grab your shit and bring it inside."

"Got it," I muttered, pressing the boot button and grabbing my two small bags from the trunk. As I slung them over my shoulder, Corvus reached into the passenger seat and pulled out my toiletry bag. "Come on, let's go."

We headed towards the front door, the tension between us palpable. I couldn't deny that there was something about this place—this sanctuary—that made me feel safer than I had in a long time. But I also knew better than to let my guard down completely.

"Y'know," I mused, trying to lighten the mood, "you could've warned me you were secretly hiding a fucking Martha Stewart fantasy out here."

"Is that right?" Corvus replied with a wicked grin, shifting my toiletry bag in his grip. "Far warning I don’t bake."

"Oh haha," I replied, though I couldn't quite suppress a smile.

It seemed so... normal. Too fucking normal.

As we reached the front door, I noticed that it had one of those fancy new locks that needed a code or fingerprint to gain access. Despite the deceptive simplicity of the place, it seemed like Corvus wasn't taking any chances when it came to security.

"Nice lock," I commented, trying to keep the tension at bay. "What, did you steal it from Tony Stark's mansion or something?"

"Ha, very funny," he said, smirking as he pressed his thumb to the lock. It beeped and unlocked with a soft click, granting us entry. He swung the door open and gestured for me to step inside first. "Ladies first."

"Such a gentleman," I drawled sarcastically, but I couldn't help feeling a little relieved that maybe, just maybe, this place might be safe enough for me to catch my breath.

The door clicked shut behind us, sealing me inside Corvus' simple abode. I glanced around, taking in the stark white walls and minimal furnishings. It was a far cry from the lavish houses I'd seen on TV shows about motorcycle gangs and organised crime.

"Where the fuck's your TV?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

"Who needs one when you've got the real thing outside?" He grinned, gesturing vaguely toward the window. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that.

My gaze landed on a small table next to a worn couch, where a few battered novels sat – their spines creased, pages yellowed with age. The place was spotless, not a speck of dust to be found, which told me he used it more than I might have first thought. It was just...very clean and empty.

"Now let's get you settled in,” Corvus said as he led me further into the house.

Corvus's footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway, and I followed cautiously, my heart pounding in my ears. The white walls seemed to close in on me as we ventured further into the depths of this unnervingly pristine house.

He stopped abruptly in front of a plain wooden door, gesturing towards it with a rough nod of his head. "There's the spare room," he said gruffly, avoiding eye contact. "Just got a bed in it. Ain't been used since my mum stayed over a few months back. I'll grab you some sheets."

"Thanks," I muttered, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and trepidation.

The spare room felt like a prison cell – small, barren, and suffocating. I hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold, the weight of my decision settling heavy on my shoulders.

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