Page 31 of The Devils of Saint City

“I’m not gonna tell you how you felt. I’m just saying in another life, if we were different people, that girl would’ve given us everything we ever dreamed of. It’s in her eyes.”

I’ve seen it.

Maybe I could have denied it a week ago, but seeing the look in her eyes as I fucked her this morning is something I’ve seen more than once. Not as raw and blatant as it was while I was inside of her, but it was her submission all the same. I just don’t know how to admit that I need it... not even to my best friend. “In another life, I guess, because I don’t see a way to get there now.”

There, it’s as close to admitting I feel the loss the same as him as I’ll ever get.

“I wish I had an answer for you. But she’ll never trust us until we let her go, and we can’t let her go because we don’t trust her. It’s a catch-22 that really only benefits us. We still get what we want, she stays collared and cuffed, and at least we still have each other.” He turns onto a long dirt road and nods to me. “Get your gun ready. We’re almost there.”

It’s my fault for being so distracted that I didn’t even notice we were this close, but I have to push all thoughts of that woman from my mind unless I want to die.

Pulling my gun out, I get a bullet in the chamber and click off the safety, then do the same for his and the spare we keep in the glove box. “You think Creed will have any other cronies there this time?”

“Doubt it. It’s Harvest Day at the school, so the Wardens will be busy picking their next little whore. Grab the darts and let’s get this over with. I love being outnumbered.”

Harvest Day.

For the longest time I wished I could work at that school and cycle through whores with no attachments, but these days I’m glad I never did. Something tells me I’d only be emptier inside.

Once the dart gun is locked and loaded, we hop out of the car like we’re on a mission with our game faces on.

Neither of us is thinking about anything but the job at hand, because he’s right. We’re about to be outnumbered again, and we have to walk in this abandoned piece of shit building with the hope that we have the biggest balls in the place.

At least this is where Manson shines. He might get soft with our pet, but he’s a fucking savage when it matters. Whistling a menacing little tune, he kicks the door open with his gun swinging around his pointer finger. “Callan!” he yells to the seemingly empty space. “Provost Creed has a message for you!”

“Fuck!” a voice hisses off in the distance. “Put that shit away!”

We share a smile that shows just how detached we can be, guns out as we round a corner and find the three of them scrambling to hide the fact that they were just doing coke. Losers.

Without hesitation, I shoot one of them in the foot, his screams making me feel alive as the other two stare down the barrels of our guns with fear etched all over their faces. “My bad. I thought that was the other gun,” I lie. “Guess it’ll just be you two enjoying the Sway tonight. He won’t be any fun.”

I tune out his cries as Manson pulls the dart gun out of my waistband. “Who first? Mmmm you.” He aims at Lucas’ neck, but loses focus when the little bitch I shot scrambles for his own gun.

I shoot him twice in the chest, even as I hear another shot behind me. In a matter of seconds, Alex is dead, Callan has blood pouring out of his mouth, and Lucas is cowering against the wall.

“Fuck,” Manson hisses. “I hope you’re happy, Cal. All three of you could’ve walked out of here today but you two just had to go for your guns.” He kicks Callan’s shoe as blood pours from a hole in his stomach. “You’re no good to us now. Let’s see if you can survive long enough to watch Luc here spill all your secrets.”

The dart gun ended up on the ground, but with the way Lucas is already stuttering out, I have this sinking feeling we won’t be able to use it. What a waste... I got it loaded and everything.

“What’s the message?” he cries. “Y-You said we could have walked out of here, but if this wasn’t the message, what was? What does he want?”

Cal starts mumbling and gurgling some shit about his mom, but I step in closer to tower over Luc.

“The message is that he hates thieves,” Manson says simply, leaning down and putting a black latex glove on his right hand before sticking a thick finger in Cal’s bullet wound. The scream he lets out is grating as hell. “And we caught you, uh... white nosed.”

“This was my own stash.”

It’s bullshit, we can see it written all over his face that he’s lying, but it’s not our job to get the truth out of him — we already know the truth. Our job is to teach them a lesson.

The ones that survive us, anyway.

With the butt of my gun, I slam it down hard enough to make his nose shatter, cussing when blood sprays across my pants and boots. “Goddamn it, Lucas!”

To make him fear us even more, I press the barrel to his temple like bleeding on me is punishable by death, and the little bitch pisses his designer jeans.

“We do need to know one thing,” Manson interrupts. “Tell us and maybe I’ll ask Ash here not to pull the trigger. Who told you where the coke was?”

“Fuck you,” Cal spits, his body limp now as he reaches the end, and the sight of him has Lucas turning away to puke. Fucking bitch was never cut out for this life.

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