Page 7 of The Devils of Saint City

Ash huffs. “Real friends blow each other, pet. You wouldn’t know anything about that, huh? Who’s your best friend again?”

The coffee pot sputters as it finishes, saving me from having to admit that I have no one. I fix his coffee first and hand it to him. “I’ll watch my attitude. I can’t promise anything because you’re an asshole, but I’ll try. Enjoy your coffee.”

“Thank you, Rhea.”

He tips his mug at me with a fake smile and walks away, his friend taking his place before I can finish filling up his mug. “Too early for that shit,” he mutters. “You really stay up all night?”

“When I’m positive I’ll have an episode if I go to sleep? Yeah. It wasn’t so bad when I was living alone.”

“Guess all three of your triggers were fucked last night, huh?” He takes a sip and leans against the counter. “Give me a list of shit you need and we’ll bring it home.”

Right, because I’m not allowed to leave this place now.

“Groceries. A lot of them. And tampons, too.” I don’t actually need them, but I want to watch him squirm.

“T-Tampons?” He frowns. “What size? And wh— can you just write it all down?”

Yeah, it was worth it.

“Yes. I have to work today, so if my door is closed, just pretend I left handcuffs on the counter or whatever you guys do. Okay?”

“You’re still gonna do that?” The fact that he looks confused baffles me. Why the fuck wouldn’t I? “I guess I thought... I mean it’s not like you have rent.”

“For now,” I remind him. “I promised Ash I’d keep looking for somewhere else to live, and this might be a good time to save for a house. I also still need things like clothes and shampoo.”

He tosses a hand out like that’s nothing, but Ash decides to chime in from the couch. “She’s not trying to be our pet forever, bro. She’ll run away as soon as she can find a new rock to hide under.”

I’m not trying to be their pet at all.

“And then you can go back to living in peace.”

Chuckling, Ash doesn’t respond and pretends to tune us out again, but Manson isn’t backing down. “I don’t want you getting other dudes off while you’re ours.”

There’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen before, something dangerous and possessive. “I’m not that kind of slave for you,” I point out. “I’ll fold your clothes and help you pee and feed you, but I’m not your sex slave. It’s different. Isn’t it, Ash?”

Silence.

Coffee forgotten, Manson moves in just a little closer to box me in. “And what if we want that kind of slave too?”

I can’t. I won’t. Not with them.

“Then I’ll leave so you can find one.”

“No, you won’t,” Ash joins us in the kitchen with his jaw as tense as Manson’s. “You have nowhere to go.”

That seems to be his favorite phrase now. As if I need to be reminded that this was my only choice. “I won’t do it. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Asher holds up a hand to stop Manson in his tracks. “She has to sleep sometime, doesn’t she?” He smiles. “Who do you think her body will crave?”

Oh god. Ohgod. He’s right, I can feel the heat pooling in my stomach, the wetness between my thighs. I hate him, I do. He terrifies me. They both do. But standing here cornered by them, seeing their sneers, their desire... the muscles and hard ridges of bodies built for violence? The second I fall asleep, I’ll beg them for it.

I know who I am. I’ve seen the tapes.

I have to leave.

Swallowing, I squeeze between them and head to my bedroom to get dressed. Neither of them follow me. In fact, they leave me alone until I have a bag packed and I’m making my way to the front door — and all they do is laugh.

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