Page 66 of The Devils of Saint City

Manson grunts as I scramble off his lap and into my room, but even without a door, I can’t hear what he says to Asher. Their whispered mumbles don’t deter me in the slightest as I throw on some clothes and my old boots. I nearly put makeup on for the occasion but decide against it since I don’t have much left, so after I throw my hair up in a loose ponytail, I join them again in the living room. “Ready?”

Both of them check me out hungrily. Asher’s jaw is still tense, but he nods once and Manson moves in to throw an arm around me to lead me outside.

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s not like I’ve never seen your darker sides before.” Manson with his controlling obsessiveness and Asher with his insidious violence. The ways they put pain and point-proving over what’s true, what’s right. I’ve seen the way they take, the way they break. The hatred and anger that drives them.

I’m not afraid.

It might be nice to see it directed at someone else for once.

“That’s... fair,” he chuckles, pausing for Asher to lock up the house behind us. “Just promise us you won’t get out of the truck, alright?”

“Under any circumstances. I’ll leave the keys in the ignition if things go south.”

In other words, I could hop in the driver’s seat and speed away to a new life if I absolutely wanted to. I’d be leaving them to die if whoever we’re meeting is as dangerous as they’re trying to say, but they’re giving me so much power in a situation I didn’t imagine I’d have any.

My, how things change.

I can’t lie. The urge to use it, to run far and fast until the truck runs out of gas and I can’t go any further on foot is strong. It eats at me, gnaws. But the last few weeks have shown me that things can be better. That what they want and what I want can coexist.I can serve them and still be a person, be powerless and still command the attention and respect of a queen. Trusting them is hard, but it’s better than dying of starvation. Especially if things continue to improve.

“Cuffs?” I ask. “I’m sure you already thought to grab the remote.”

Asher’s frown is the only response I get from him as he rounds the truck, and Manson opens the backseat door and helps me in before he responds. “Ash has the remote, no cuffs though. They would make you driving away to safety hard as hell, and although some may call us devils, we’re not monsters. Not all the time anyway.”

The truck rumbles to life as Ash meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I see it there. The fear, the reluctant trust that goes against every single one of his instincts. I don’t know how to help him. I’m not even sure I want to. So instead, I lick my lips and wink at him before bending over to pull Manson’s cock out.

A deal’s a deal, after all.

“Always wanted to have my dick sucked on the way to a job.” Manson pets my face, sliding his thumb along my lips almost lovingly before he pulls me down onto his lap. “Your step-brother always refused.”

“That’s because I prefer fucking after we’ve survived whatever the hell it is we have to do,” Ash says as he begins to drive, but Manson takes the time to moan loudly before he argues back.

“Yeah, but if we die, at least we got to come first.”

When Ash doesn’t respond I know it’s because Manson has a point.

And also because he’s jealous it won’t be him.

Something about that spurs me on to be a little more enthusiastic than normal — I’m always into it, but hearingManson above me while the truck goes faster does something to me.

He can’t be too upset about it though, because he leaves the music off like he’s listening to my slurping, and I’d bet anything he’s gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white.

“Just like that, baby. Let me hear you choke.”

It’s almost funny how fast he blows once I do. The little shit even tries to tug me off to last longer but fails, so I swallow every drop before sitting up and putting my seatbelt on with a smile.

Cheeks flushed, I meet Asher’s eyes again. “Are we almost there?”

He nods, those intense greens locked on my lips as I lick them. “Gun is in the center console.”

Manson releases a deep breath, looking boneless and sated. Maybe Asher is right about not coming before a job, because I swear he looks like he’d rather nap.

The truck’s tires hit gravel and dirt, pulling my attention to my surroundings for the first time. How long has it been since I’ve seen the roots of a tree? The fence in the backyard is solid, and the front yard doesn’t have any that I can see through the window.

Here, trees are everywhere. All shapes and sizes, some completely bare already and some with leaves still hanging on. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch the bark. I remember what it feels like, but only just.

I open my mouth to ask them to pull over when the truck comes to a stop anyway.

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