Page 66 of The Devil and His Sparrow

I had to let that girl go, because she’d already done so much more than disappoint.

Zagan handed me my new phone. I distracted myself from my spiraling thoughts by double-checking my numbers and photos, all while he grabbed my box of belongings before I had the chance to. I bit my lip to fight the grin trying to take over when I noticed he’d changed his contact name back to, “Demon Daddy.” I decided to let him win this time and left it.

When we got to the parking lot, I started for my car out of habit, but I drew up short. It wasn’t mine anymore. Just as I wondered what we were going to do, I spotted Zagan approaching a matte black Camaro ZL1.

He placed the box in the backseat and gestured for me to go around to the passenger side. “Come on.”

I climbed in without argument, and I took a moment to admire the beautiful interior. It smelled like him—spicy, clean, and a little like fire.

Zagan started the black beauty up and left my apartment behind in record time.

I didn’t look back as we peeled onto the road. I kept my head facing forward like I was leaving behind my past and facing whatever came next as strongly as I could. And just how strong was that? I didn’t know, yet.

The first task to complete was finding somewhere to go. I was now penniless and homeless. Lead filled my insides at the prospect of trying to figure everything out. My entire world had been obliterated into a blank slate, and I somehow had to start all over with nothing.

“I’ve gotta find out where I’m gonna stay now,” I grumbled, raking a hand through my hair and fisting it in frustration. “I—”

“You’re staying with me.”

I looked over at the demon in surprise. “What?”

He didn’t even blink, unfazed by my shock. “My place is plenty big. I already have a room getting set up for you as we speak, which was the other thing that held me up so long. I’m not always home since I travel a lot, so you’ll still have your time without me if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It wasn’t what I was worried about. I actually liked having him around. It was the idea of seeming like I was using him or taking advantage of him. I quickly shook my head. “I can’t stay with you. I don’t want to freeload or—”

Zagan laughed. “Are you kidding? It’s not a big deal, Iyla. We’re literally stuck together for the remainder of your life. Living together just makes our arrangement easier. Stop overthinking it. And money isn’t and will never be an issue. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m loaded.”

I swallowed hard, and after a few seconds, I accepted his reassurance. How could I not when he made such excellent points? With that acceptance, the first sense of relief since everything fell apart swept through me.

I was going to be okay. Zagan was by my side. I didn’t have to face whatever came my way alone.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “For everything.”

He waved off my thanks. Instead, he shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, looking rather unsure as he probed, “Can I ask you something?”

I leaned my head back against the seatrest and turned it toward him. “Of course.”

“When you and your mom were arguing, you said you were her consequence. What did you mean?”

I dropped my eyes as tucked-away hurt tore through me. That was a story I never told—to anyone—nor did I ever give it the time of day in my head. When I thought about it, my heart ached tenfold, and I still couldn’t believe that Mom had ever told me the story or her brutally honest thoughts on the matter. Though, I supposed she did it to teach me a lesson.

Sex was wrong.

Wanting sex made me a whore.

If I opened my legs for someone who wasn’t my husband, only bad things would happen.

The acidic burn of hurt filled my throat, but I swallowed it down. I stared at the tattoo on Zagan’s arm, and I traced the detailed ink to give myself something else to focus on as the words poured out of me for the first time.

“Mom and Dad didn’t love each other for the first part of their marriage.”

He glanced over at me. “No?”

I shook my head. “Mom has always been the smartest girl in the room. Dad was the romantic, creative one. They went to the same high school but didn’t run in the same circles. At least, not until one night at some senior year celebration when they decided to let loose. It was their first time, apparently. The first time Mom decided to be a little wild. The only time she got a little wild. Because that one time was all it took for her to get pregnant. She was seventeen.”

I followed the scales of the snake on his arm, getting lost in the pattern as the somber tale continued. “She was from a religious family, so you can imagine their outrage when their unwedded, teenage daughter dropped the news of the unplanned and unwanted pregnancy. They forced her to get married to my dad.” I paused, my throat tight. “She didn’t want me, but they made her keep me.”

My eyes moved to his other arm to trace the vines and cobwebs. “She was supposed to go to Harvard before she got pregnant. She had this entire plan already made for how her life was going to go, but I threw a wrench in those goals. When her first semester at Harvard started, I was a newborn. Dad gave up his full ride to a performing arts school so that he could stay home and take care of me. He wanted Mom to focus on her career and doing what she wanted since he thought she’d been cheated out of her dreams. He was kind like that. Always thinking of her, even though he knew she didn’t want him or his baby.”

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