Page 12 of Dark & Deceitful

“You probably smiled and asked him questions, to be polite.”

My lips tipped into a frown, I shrug. “He didn’t have anybody. His mom died last year. His brother stopped talking to him after that. What was I supposed to do? Be a bitch? Throw him out?”

“Well, he won’t be a problem anymore.”

No. I guess he won’t. Dan was one of the nicer stalkers. They all start out that way. Flirting when they come in to see me. Sometimes, they bring me flowers I refuse to accept. Sometimes, there’s more extreme love bombing—money, jewelry, expensive designer bags. Each gift I return, the more adamant they get until they eventually follow me home, take pictures of me through the windows, and masturbate in their cars for me to witness. It’s supposed to be flattering, I think. But it’s just sad. This year alone, I’ve had two stalkers. Last year, three. Similar patterns. Same outcomes. I’m the one who usually handles business. For once, it was nice I didn’t have to.

Staring out the side window, watching the world fly by, I sigh at the heaviness of it all. At the heaviness of the day. At the heaviness of… life. “I know you didn’t have time to clean up the mess before Lily woke up, so did you call Angel?”

“Yeah. He was closest.”

Makes sense. When you need shit done, you call Angel—a Sacred Sinner nomad, just like Dark and Sunshine. He’s a close, personal friend. Reliable and efficient. The stalker’s blue sedan is probably in a chop shop by now, pieced down for parts. His body, however, they handle the bodies. I don’t ask questions. It’s none of my business. Just as what I do isn’t theirs. We respect those boundaries.

Pulling out my phone from inside my purse, I find Angel’s number in my contacts.

Me: Thanks for your help today.

Angel: Never a problem. I’m always here for you, gorgeous. Whatever you need. Hit me up yourself next time. Yeah?

Head shaking from the driver's seat, Sunshine snickers as he turns down the town's main street not far from the shop. “You're texting Angel to thank him, aren’t you?”

“It’s the right thing to do, Colton,” I scold playfully. “Just as I’m gonna thank you, probably a thousand times, once I get my gift gifts.”

“Sweets…” My nickname’s drawled on a sigh, one that communicates me thanking him is unnecessary. That’s where he’d be wrong.

“What? It’s true. You should already know that.”

“I do. But it’s unnecessary.”

See. Told ya.

I hum in disagreement as Sunshine drives past the shop and turns up the next alley to park behind the building—the employee's entrance.

At the back of the old brick building, there are two doors—one at the street level where the stores are and another that goes down a small flight of steps beneath the main spaces.

Sunshine kills the engine.

I unlatch my seatbelt and turn toward him.

He reaches out and lays a warm hand on my knee. “They should be downstairs.”

I rest my palm on top of the skull tattoo on the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

The corner of his mouth kicks into the sweetest of grins, crinkling the edges of his eyes that sparkle in the early afternoon sun. “I want what’s best for you. Always.” He squeezes my knee.

Returning the gesture in kind, I squeeze the top of his hand. “I know. Now I’m gonna go see my gift gifts, and you go upstairs.” I jut my chin toward the back door of the building. “Till should be working. She’ll be happy to see you.”

“If you need me?—”

“I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

“I’m not leavin’ ‘til morning.”

“I sure as hell hope not. You’d miss the party.”

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