Page 74 of Dance with the Devil

“It’s an emergency,” I tell him. “I forgot my wallet, but I can come back and pay for these in the morning if that’s cool.”

Then, just in case he missed it on my way in, I not-so-discreetly tap the devil on my arm.

Either he thinks I’m some insane man trying to steal from his shop, or he’ll recognize the devil and know I’m a Sinner. I’m leaving with this shit regardless. I just hope he has the good sense not to get in my way.

“Yeah, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” He gulps again. “Besides, we don’t, like, have cameras or anything. So, uh, you can just go and it’s like you were never here.”

Smart kid. “Thanks. Appreciate it, man.”

“You, too,” he says quickly, and I swear I can hear his knees knocking from where I’m standing by the open door. “Have a good rest of your night.”

I grin, and he blanches. “Oh. Iwill.”

It’s a shame.I screwed up that poor kid for nothing.

Well. Not really. I needed the boots to go marching off into the woods where I planned on burying Mickey Kelly when I was done with him. Same thing with the shovel since I wasn’t about to dig up the dirt with my hands. But the knife and the rope? Damn it. I hadplansfor those.

Too bad that Mickey had the indecency to die before I could get to them. He made a hell of a mess in the trunk of the car, too, which I feel a little bad about; the owners are gonna be in for a surprise when I return the car and they see the dried blood in the back. If I hadn’t just watched my life’s work go up in smoke, plus everything I own, I might feel worse, but as I glare down at Mickey’s corpse, I only wish I could’ve gotten more information about what exactly he planned to do to Genevieve if he’d managed to off me first.

He’ll never get the chance now. Dumb fuck wanted revenge for what I did, then to go after my butterfly because she had no choice but to take out that other prick who lorded over us the entire time we were held as Winter’s prisoner.

Mickey’s dead. Noah’s dead. I don’t know about Baker, and between Devil and Damien, Winter’s days are definitely numbered. The leader of his gang of Snowflakes seems to be a pro at hiding—especially, technically, he doesn’t evenexistas he and his brother were playing one part at first, before Johnny took over the operation on his own—but I have faith that he’ll get what’s coming to him, too.

Just like this asshole did.

At least I know that there’s one target off of Genevieve’s back. Underestimating Mickey was my mistake; after he left thecompound to get his cock reattached, I figured I’d never have to worry about him again. I’m just grateful that he decided to come for me first, but I know I won’t be able to end this night until I have Genevieve in my arms again, assuring myself that she’s alright.

After that, this staying apart shit isdone. Her brother doesn’t want me staying at her place, and because of her studio, there are times she can’t stay at mine, but keeping us apart at all? No fucking way. My place is gone now. Sinners & Saints? Destroyed. I had to leave the fire behind me after I too off to get Mickey, but that’s just stuff. I can replace it.

If anything happens to Genevieve… there’s no replacingher.

I need to see her. To hold her. To see that she’s okay. I can’t call her. Like everything else I owned, I left my phone in the fire. My keys. My wallet. None of that mattered before, but that just means I have a stolen car, stolen shoes, and a dead man I need to get rid of.

But once I’ve got Mickey Kelly in a shallow grave, I’m taking one more joyride before I return the car where I found it. It’s the middle of the damn night. So long as I bring it back before dawn, I should be fine, especially since there’s gotta be fire trucks blocking the street by now, dealing with the inferno I ran away from.

Hmm. In that case, maybe I’ll abandon the car a couple of miles out and hoof it. Let the cops deal with the missing car and the blood in the trunk, and I’ll just stroll up to the charred remains of my old life after the fire’s gone.

Who needs the past when I have a future with my butterfly to look forward to?

TWENTY-SEVEN

THREE A.M.

GENEVIEVE

Ican’t sleep.

I got spoiled. Assuming I already wasn’t, ever since the night I slept over at Cross’s apartment a week ago, I’ve gotten used to snuggling up against him, sleeping in his arms. There was something different about it, too. When we were being held captive by Winter, we were clinging to each other because we were all each other had.

Now? It’s still so new, knowing that Cross is mine and that I’m his, but when we’re in the same bed—whether we’re sleeping or fucking—there’s such a beauty in the fact that we don’t have to do this. Wegetto do this. We’re free to choose each other.

Damien still won’t budge when it comes to letting Cross stay over, and since he’s more than happy to host me, I’ve spent every night in his apartment this past week—until tonight.

I knew better than to try and convince myself that I could sleep with Cross, then get up bright and early to prepare for my meet with Director Adamson of the Riverside Ballet Corps. I need to be in top form, stretched out, limber, and ready to shine in case he auditions me for a place in his company on the spot.Cross offered to drive me in the morning if I stayed over, but I had to refuse.

I have a routine. It’s the same one I’ve done for every performance, every audition, every competition since I turned ballet from a hobby to a career. I know me. Cross would inevitably point out how sexy I am in the splits while I’m stretching, and I’ll end up showing him just how flexible I am in a way that’ll only leave me too tired to be at my best for the meeting.

Part of that routine? I’m in bed by nine-thirty. Asleep by ten. With Orion curled up by my pillow, I managed it, though my sleep was fitful at best. I kept waking up, checking my phone to see the time, and rolling over again.

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