Page 9 of The Reaper
ChapterFour
DEVON
Iwoke up on the sofa in our living room, feeling like my joints had been on a bloody torture rack for the night. My back was stiff, my arms and legs ached, and even before opening my eyes, I could feel the burn in them from lack of sleep. Across the room, I could hear the whistle of the kettle as it boiled and the gentle clatter as mugs were placed on the counter.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Liv sang as I rubbed my eyes and then peered at her busying herself making hot drinks. She was like an angel, cast aside, forever to live amongst the demons who’d fight to the death to protect her. Black and white, night and day, she was proof that miracles were possible. That someone like her could see the good amongst the evil that surrounded us.
The girl from the night before was standing next to her, looking sheepishly at the floor. Her cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment, but she had nothing to be embarrassed about. She’d done nothing wrong.
“Are you okay?” I spoke quietly, not wanting to freak her out any more than she already was. I didn’t look her way though. Instead, I swung my legs to the floor so I could sit up on the sofa and I rubbed my hands over my face to help wake me up.
“I’m fine,” she replied, and she sighed before adding, “I can’t remember much about last night. The last thing I can recall was being at the bar and chatting to some guy. He bought me a vodka and coke, and then nothing… it’s all a blank.”
That’s probably for the best.
“Liv has filled me in though, and I’m really grateful that you let me stay here, you know, after everything.”
“No need to thank us. It’s what any decent person would do.”
I looked up, and Liv smiled a knowing smile over her shoulder at me. She got it. She understood that in our world, decent meant taking out the trash. We had our own code that we lived by, and we made no apologies for it. I stood up, stretching out my tired limbs before I announced, “I’m taking a shower, then I’ll drop you off home.”
“Oh no, it’s fine.” The girl waved her hands in protest. “I can get an Uber.”
“I’m driving you home,” I stated plainly. It wasn’t up for debate. Even though I knew she’d be safe, I wasn’t about to throw her out onto the street or leave her in a taxi with a stranger. I didn’t work like that. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Give her twenty,” Liv said, chastising me with a stern glare as she put a steaming mug into the girl’s hands. “At least let her enjoy her tea and toast. She feels like shit.”
“Fine. Twenty minutes.” I didn’t wait for a reply, I just walked away, and as I stalked down the corridor towards my room, I realised I hadn’t even asked the girl what her name was.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, I made my way back into the living room, ready to take her home. Colton was sitting with Liv and the girl, holding Liv’s hand and twisting it so he could see the rings on her finger.
“Liv Noble,” he exclaimed, testing the name out loud. “Does this mean I get to call you sis now?”
“It means I get to call you out on your bullshit,” Liv replied, pulling her hand away.
“You do that anyway,” he moaned then glanced to the side to where I was standing, loitering in the doorway. “You are allowed to come in.” He raised his brow in question, but I stayed where I was and pulled the car keys from my pocket to give them all the hint that I had stuff to do. I didn’t have time to waste today. I needed to check in with the police, for a start, and make sure Dale’s case was being reported to the media exactly how I’d requested it. We couldn’t afford to have any shit coming back on us. Tyler had already wiped the CCTV. Security had been briefed to deny any knowledge of that man ever stepping foot in here.
No stone unturned.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” the girl said and stood up.
Liv stood up too and hugged her, then added, “You’ve got my number. If you ever need anything, just call. It was lovely meeting you, Jodie.”
Jodie.
So, that was her name.
Not that I’d remember after today.
* * *
Once we were in the car, I asked Jodie where she lived, so I could put it into the sat nav.
“I’d prefer not to go straight home,” she replied, wringing her hands in her lap and staring out of the passenger window to avoid looking at me.
She probably didn’t want me to know where she lived. Either that, or she didn’t want her family to see her like she was this morning; haggard, tired, and no doubt emotional after what she’d woken up to. So, I sat silently and waited for her to tell me where she wanted me to take her. It didn’t bother me either way, as long as she was somewhere safe.
