Page 56 of The Devils of Saint City

It’s not like the Asher I know at all. Instead of pressing him, I tug him down with me when he lays me on the bed. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to sleep.”

He falls ungracefully on top of me, but Manson breathes a sigh of relief right along with me when he lays down without a fight.

Manson joins us too, sandwiching me in between the two men who have made my life a living hell. Like a Satan sandwich, or a hellacious hoagie.

But it’s also the most comfortable I’ve been in years. I’m a little worried another episode is on the horizon, but for once, I’m not stressed. I have no job and no means of taking care of myself, but I don’t have to. There’s no point in worrying about escaping because I can’t. And while I could’ve killed Asher earlier, he could’ve killed me too. He chose not to. I chose not to.

At least for tonight, I’m safe.

22

Asher

We all wake around 14 hours later. It’s insane how stiff my limps are tangled with these two, but aside from that it’s the most sleep I’ve gotten in years.

Her scent was so comforting I fell asleep inhaling her hair with Manson’s fingers curled around mine. And I’ve never felt safer.

It’s ridiculous to believe that when she had a gun in my face yesterday, but the fact that she didn’t shoot told me more than any of her promises could.

She doesn’t want me dead.

After I’ve tormented her for years, she still chose to spare my life, and I now know she truly isn’t like her mother.

She’s better.

Thirty more minutes pass with none of us brave enough to move or speak, but I can hear their breathing and know they’re awake just like I am.

I get the feeling none of us want to ruin the moment.

I have to piss though, so I need one of them to cave and get up, because I don’t want to be the asshole. Again.

“I have to pee,” Rhea finally says, making Manson and I both sigh in relief as we shove down our morning wood.

Her climbing over me doesn’t help it go away at all, and neither does how good her ass looks as she walks out. “You think it’s too soon to ask her to hold my cock for a piss again?”

“Yes,” he groans. “We only did that to embarrass her. Try not to do that today.”

I’m learning he’s got a few more tightened screws than I do so I decide to listen to his advice. “Noted. Anything else I should I avoid specifically?”

“Yeah, most of the things we usually do,” he chuckles. “Maybe for today, we should treat her like we treat each other.”

Like we treat each other. I think I know what he means by that, and he definitely isn’t talking about the wet willies and aggressive teasing we do. He means the way we’re only soft for each other. “Alright, I can do that.” I hope.

“If she still cops an attitude, spank her until she cries.”

Now that I can absolutely do. Smirking, I reach over and slap his morning boner before getting out of bed to take care of mine, and as I relieve myself, I smell our coffee brewing. Guess we’re all playing nicely today.

After Manson and I are done, we sit up in my bed and wait for her to join us. When she does, she’s got a travel mug in each hand and one tucked under her arm for herself. She looks sheepish, almost scared. “Would you mind if we ordered breakfast today?”

“Of course not,” Manson pipes up enthusiastically. “Our treat for our peace offering.”

He pats the bed between us for her to squeeze in, but just before she does, he nudges me to chime in. “Yeah, peace. Do you uh... you still like waffles?”

The fuck kind of question is that? Who doesn’t like waffles? I was remembering how much she loved them as a kid, but instead I just sounded like an idiot.

“I do,” she nods. “And it kind ofhasto be your treat.”

The reminder that we’ve taken everything from her has a heavy silence taking over the room as I order our food on my phone. Maybe I went a little too far with that one. “It’s on the way. Coffee is perfect, by the way.”

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