Page 118 of Nocturne

This changes nothing, right?

Mr Devlin:

Smart

I roll my eyes.

Ara:

I didn’t peg you as an annoying, commandeering prick!

Mr Devlin:

Live & learn.

You’re going to pay for your sass soon, little siren.

Getting my blush under control seems to be an impossible task right now.

Ara:

Big talk from a guy who doesn’t even hold up his end of the deal!

It takes a minute for him to reply. When he does, it is a picture of two men tied to the chair. One of their hands is pinned to the table by a knife. The other is being electrocuted by Eero, who looks in his element. He is the man who terrified me the day we met. A psychotic smile as he turns up a knob while the man in the suit seems to be screaming.

I remember the man in the lab coat. The one who is bleeding profusely from every orifice. He was the one standing beside the pregnant woman while she struggled.

The room is dark apart from the light hanging from the ceiling. There is a tarp all over the floor, covered in blood and are those fingers? Bile rises in my throat, and I immediately close the picture.

Ara:

You know I can take this to the authorities, right?

Mr Devlin:

Go ahead

Arrogant prick.

He knows there is no official who’d dare to arrest him.

Ara:

But I won’t. As grizzly as it is, you’re doing something good.

I’m embarrassed that he called my bluff. My order is up and I push the phone into my pocket, ignoring the buzz of notification. I pay for my drinks and go to push the door open, but Yuri holds it open from the outside.

“Thanks, Yuri,” I smile at the man.

He gives a short nod, and I see a small smile in return. He isn’t a tough nut to crack like Nico. What I’ve realised from the short time I’ve spent around these men is that they aren’t bad. They just haven’t been spoken to gently; they haven’t been given smiles from strangers or treated as humans. Even while we both walk on the street back to my house, I see many pedestrians givehim a wide berth and silently judge him. Just because he has tattoos, walks a certain way, and looks big and strong.

I shake my head at them and stretch the second cup toward him. He looks down at it and then at me with an obvious question.

“It’s coffee. For you. I made a safe guess that you’d like it black, but if you don’t, I want to get you another one.”

He looks down at it for a second longer, but he accepts it. “Black is fine, Ms. Ara.”

Ivy wanted to cook for me. I’m not sure how many ways one can torment an already-dead chicken, but I’m pretty confident I’ll have a detailed report by the time we get home. Cas wanted in on the chaos, too, and the pair of them kicked me out of my own house. Apparently, I can’t just sit quietly and enjoy being pampered without micromanaging their every move. Forgive me for loving my kitchen and wanting to keep it intact.

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