Page 87 of Cruel Devil

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head.

I lift her chin with my knuckle, forcing her to look at me. “Is it really hitting you that hard?”

Her throat moves as she swallows, eyes skittish as if she doesn’t want to focus on me. But eventually she does, and my skin turns cold at the sad look in her eyes.

“I’ve done heroin.”

There’s something about the way she says it.

“Why do I get the feeling it wasn’t by choice?”

Her green eyes settle on mine, widening slightly. “Because it wasn’t.”

Shit…you think you know someone…

I keep my voice light as I release her chin. “Is that what’s keeping you up? Monsters from your past?”

“Monsters,” she says through a quiet huff, shaking her head. “They’re everywhere these days, aren’t they?”

“Monsters don’t always hide in the shadows.”

Her eyes narrow. “Guess the son of Sergio Domingo would know best.”

I give her a dry chuckle. “Damn. Low blow.”

She comes to sit beside me, propped up against the headboard. She starts fussing with her robe, trying to adjust it so it’s covering her pajama top, but too much of it is bundled under her body. She relents with an annoyed huff, and pushes her head against the padded, dark brown leather behind her.

I snatch my cigarettes from the nightstand and pull one out, sticking it in my mouth and getting ready to light it with a cupped hand. When I catch Andy’s eyebrow cocking, I hold out my hands. “You mind?”

“I’d prefer not to die from lung cancer, if it’s alright with you.”

I huff at her, the sound muffled around the cigarette’s filter. “This is my room.”

“That’s even worse,” she says with a sniff, crossing her arms over her chest. I don’t think she realizes how tight it stretches her white pajama top over her breasts which, judging from the nipples showing through the thin fabric, aren’t covered by a bra. “You’re lying here all night inhaling those carcinogens.”

The look of disgust on her face is enough to put me off the smoke anyway.

I toss it back on the nightstand. “You know, if you just came here to question my life choices, maybe you should go back to your room.”

Her hands slip out to hold on to her upper arms as if she’s suddenly getting cold. “Sorry.”

Fuck it, why do I suddenly feel like I’m the one who has to apologize? Damn Blueberry.

“Whatever,” I mutter. “I was about to go to bed anyway. Let yourself out whenever you want.”

I switch off the lamp on my nightstand and shrug off my robe, tossing it to the foot of the bed. Andy remains motionless in the dark beside me as I slide my legs under the covers and turn onto my side, my back to her.

She waits until I’m just getting drowsy before climbing off the bed.

I’m not sure if I should be happy or sad that she’s leaving. I’ve been too busy to pick up chicks or send for a cartel whore the past few days. It would have been nice having a warm body in my bed, at least until morning.

The mattress sinks down again, Andy mumbling something about sleeping in pants.

I’ve never liked the idea of a king sized bed, but I’m starting to see the attraction as Andy wriggles around beside me. I do my best not to listen to her moving around, but there’s nothing else to focus on.

“Jesus,” I mutter when her foot brushes mine. “Should I get out?”

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