Page 53 of The Devils of Saint City

“Fine,” Asher snaps, stealing the laptop back. “I’ll fucking do it. Manson, keep her away from me until I’m done.”

He spins away to disappear with her laptop, and when she moves to rush after him I grab her and carry her to the couch. “What do you even need money for?”

“I’m saving to buy a house,” she admits with quiet desperation. “Somewhere far from here. I almost have enough for a downpayment, Manson. Please don’t let him do this. I’ll never afford it without that revenue.”

My phone dings in my pocket with a very specific sound — one I set up to alert me when I get notifications from our bank. We only have one, housing a joint account we use for business that either can’t be handled in person or be paid for in cash. It’s silent unless we’re actively on a job.

Boxing her in, I pull it out and stare down at the little deposit notification. “Let me guess. You had $7,353.64 saved up?”

Blinking, she nods. “Yes. That’s... is he snooping through my shit?”

I don’t know if snooping is the right word, but he did steal every penny she has.

Before I respond to her I have to close my eyes and kiss our happy little family dream goodbye. “Something like that. But you don’t need to buy a house when you live here. I told you to let us take care of you.”

“Right, live and die without ever seeing the stars again. Without ever having the possibility of making friends or having a family. Without being able to buy things I want, go on vacations, have anything at all that’s mine except a collar I didn’t ask for. A collar that makes sure I obey men who don’t deserve it. What kind of a life is that for me? You two want a slave, and when I’m gone, you’ll find another one. I’m almost there. Just please, Manson. Please. Stop him from taking them all down.”

My phone dings again with a text telling me it’s done, which means I couldn’t help her even if I wanted to.

“I’ve been trying to work on that all being different and you two fucking siblings seem to be against it. I want us to have all of those things, Rhea. How do you not see that? It doesn’t have to be a fucking war in this house, we could be a family.”

Ash walks back out and sets her laptop on the counter, looking much calmer than he did before. “He can’t stop me because deep down he doesn’t want to. Did you really think he’d share you with outsiders for long?”

She ignores him completely, her eyes locked on mine. “Tell me one thing either of you have ever done to show me you wanted more. To show me you’d care about me, love me. That I was anything more than a pet you choose to play with when you want.”

It’s bad I can’t think of one thing while on the spot, but if she really believes I haven’t tried to make our home peaceful, than she wouldn’t regardless if I did. There’s no arguing with someone who already wholeheartedly believes something, so why bother? “I can’t.” I shrug. “I guess we haven’t.”

“Get out of your feelings about it, Manson. Don’t go fucking soft right now. She’d never see it, and how could she when everything nice you’ve done has been overshadowed by everything bad?”

She doesn’t know the half of it. If she thinks it’s been so terrible, wait until she finds out what he just did.

“This clearly isn’t working,” she says almost too calmly. “Can’t you see that? We’re just not a good fit. I don’t want to be what you need, and you’re incapable of being what I want. So just let me go. I don’t have much saved, but I can get something modest with it.”

“You don’t have anything,” Asher retorts. “You really should learn not to save your passwords.”

I see the moment it hits her. It’s not hatred or anger in her eyes this time, it’s pure devastation. Asher just popped a hole in the only life raft she had.

I’d feel bad if I wasn’t so fucking deflated here. “When are you going to get you’re staying with us?” I ask. “Maybe we can’t be what you want, but we can be what you need. We will take care of you.”

It’s like beating a dead horse at this point, but I can’t seem to stop.

“You’re not taking care of me,” she whispers, then stands abruptly and points a shaky, furious finger at Asher as she screams, “Give me my fucking money back and let me out! I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m fucking done!”

“No.”

Rhea jerks with the word like he physically slapped her, but turns away from him. I don’t realize why she’s walking toward the end table until it’s too late.

She grabs the gun we keep hidden there, locked and fucking loaded, and points it at the only man on this planet I really love.

“Give. It. Back.”

“Rhea, what the fuck?!” I yell, moving to step in front of him, but the fucker shoves me back onto the couch.

“There she is,” he says challengingly, eyes wide as they bore into hers. “It’s uncanny really, how much you look like mommy dearest right now.“ These two are going to give me a heart attack one day, what the fuck is he doing? “Go on! Do it! Pull the fucking trigger.”

“No, don’t. What the fuck! Rhea, put down the gun!”

“Fuck that. She had the balls to grab it, she better have the balls to use it. Do what you black widows were made for.”

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