Page 78 of The Devils of Saint City

“Where’d you go?” she asks quietly, snapping me out of it. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just... thinking. There’s a lot that goes into this decision, you know? It needs to be in a town where there arenormal jobs available since this money won’t last forever, I’d like it to be in a good school district in case I ever have kids, a yard for the same reason or in case I get a dog.”

“Do you even want any of that?”

What the hell does that mean? Glancing up at her, my eyes widen in silent questioning.

“I’m just saying. Some women, like me, have been through enough that they never want a man or a family to take care of. We don’t have time for pets, and setting down roots feels like a jail sentence. Some women want exactly what you described — a forever home, a place to raise their kids and take care of their husband. They want pets they can put stickers of on the back of their SUVs. Some women want jobs, some want to be taken care of. There’s no right or wrong answer to any of it as long as you’re living a life that’s true to what you want. So, Rhea Ellis. What is it that you want?”

Her question seems to suck all the warmth out of the room. I don’tknowwhat I want. I want the freedom I’ve always chased, sure. But do I really want to be stuck somewhere? No. Do I really want to go work some menial job just to make ends meet? No. Do I really want kids?

That answer is more complicated. A big part of me says no, that I want the right to be selfish, that I don’t want to risk passing down my disorder. That I have no business caring for a child when I might have an episode myself. But a smaller part of me longs for that connection, to break the fucking chain and give some little kid the chance at a life I never had. So... I guess I want to leave the option open.

And as far as men go, no one will ever be able to make me feel the way that Asher and Manson did. The pain, the pleasure, the highs and lows. It’s toxic as hell, but it also makes me feel alive. And now that I’ve had two, how will one ever compete?

“Oh, fuck me,” I mutter to myself. “I don’t fucking know.”

She chuckles softly and reaches up to close my laptop. “Don’t make any rash decisions. You’ve got time. You’re safe here, and I can talk to Daddy about getting you some easy work so you can continue to stack cash. Then once you make up your mind, I’ll come with you. You’re not alone, girl.”

I know I’m not. She’s proven that day in and day out, yet... I still feel alone.

Why do I still feel alone?

32

Manson

It’s been three weeks since we let Rhea free and I’ve hated every second of it. I’m still mad at Asher about it, but I see what it’s doing to him too. The other night I couldn’t sleep so I went to lay in her bed to see if smelling her would help, and I found Ash was already in there.

We curled up together in search of comfort, and based on the scent I got off the pillow, it wasn’t his first time sleeping in there. I didn’t realize how pathetic we were, but here we are.

We haven’t even fucked since she left.

I’m not sure if we’re punishing ourselves or if the void we feel in place of her hurts too much, but we’ve cuddled more than anything, and I’m not even mad at it. I just miss her.

Hope comes and goes in waves, one minute we’re both convinced she’s going to come back any second and the next we’re positive she isn’t. And why would she? We didn’t get to show her how good we could really be for long enough, and I’d bet she thinks we got rid of her because we couldn’t keep that up. I wasn’t sure Ash could at the time, but now that I see what the loss of her has done to him, I know he could have. He was tired of being the devil in her story, I saw it in his relief when he let that shit go and I still see it today as I watch him stare at her on our tv screen. I could have kissed him when he told me about the hidden cameras, but because I was still mad at him, I didn’t.

“She’s probably not going anywhere today,” I offer. “Let’s go finish up in there so it’s all ready.”

Asher nods quietly and turns off the television, following me down the hallway with his head hanging low. I got this idea a couple weeks ago to turn her old bedroom into a space she’d loveif she returned, and when Ash and I are in here working, it’s the only time I see any sort of light in his eyes. We’ve turned one entire wall into bookshelves, turned her bed into a reading nook since she’d be sleeping with us anyway, and both of us watched about nine hours of YouTube so we could learn how to paint her ceiling to look like the stars. It’s not perfect, but with the projector we got, I know it’ll look really nice in here whenever she wants to have some time to herself.

There isn’t much left for us to do since we’ve spent so much time on it, but I keep Ash busy setting up the desk as I sign her new tv into all of our streaming services. “What else do you think she’d like?”

With the look on his face, I don’t think he’s feeling as much hope today as he was yesterday, but he humors me anyway. “Uh... maybe a record player? I don’t know if she still has any but I remember she used to like my dad’s. I actually still have it in the garage. Maybe we could clean that up and pick up some records? I don’t know.”

“That’s a good idea. What about a dog?”

Asher chuckles lightly. “I don’t know, but you’ve always wanted one. If she wants one I think we should wait until she’s home to get it. You two could choose together.”

He’s a big ol’ softy when it comes to dogs and cats, but he usually pretends he doesn’t want one when I bring it up. Deep down I know it’s because he doesn’t want to deal with losing them. It’s also why he keeps himself glued to my side, and why he had to lock Rhea up so she could never leave. My guy has abandonment issues I don’t think he’s ever worked through, but I’m not about to make him. I don’t plan on leaving his side anyway.

Somehow, I know a dog would be good for all of us though.

Pulling out my phone, I start to text Blair again to ask if she thinks Rhea will want a dog but I stop myself before pressingsend. I doubt our girl would have opened up about that anyway so I backspace all of that and just ask how she’s doing.

Blair:She’s a woman. Of course she’s fine

She doesn’t answer our texts as often as we’d like so I decide not to argue with her.

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