Page 57 of Lucifer's Hounds

“You better stop. You’re going to make me late for work.”

Make him late for work? Yes. Yes, please.

“And I can’t be late today,” Cass says firmly, crushing all of the wishful thoughts I had of taking advantage of him when we get to the hotel.

Cass’s phone rings, killing the music playing through the speakers. Being connected to the auxiliary, there’s no name showing on the radio screen. When Cass glances at the number on his phone, his whole demeanor changes. His body tenses and the soft look that had been on his face only moments before is now long gone. In its place is a cold, distant stare. I can tell that in this moment, this is not the man I know.

“Cass.” The voice on the other end of the line belongs to a man, his voice gruff. It’s deep and raspy and void of emotion.

“Curt,” Cass says.

“Your ride is waiting at the hotel. Where are you?”

Cass takes in a breath and grits his teeth. He isn’t happy about whatever it is that is happening.

“I’m on my way. I will come to you,” Cass growls.

“Get here. You’re late,” Curt barks and the call ends.

What the hell was that about?

“I’m dropping you off at the front door of the hotel. I’m not coming in. I’ve got to go. I’m late,” Cass says, his voice dry and cold.

“Okay.”

I manage to get the word out, unsure of if Cass can hear me or not. Who is this man and what happened to the sweet, playful man that was just here moments ago? I’m starting to questionwhy I’m here. I don’t feel welcome anymore and I’m unsure of what to say, if anything.

When we arrive at the hotel, Cass’s face is a statue. There’s no life in it. I lean over to kiss Cass before getting out and he doesn’t budge. He simply hands me the key card.

What the fuck? Slightly annoyed and a little upset, I take the key and get out of the truck. I storm toward the entrance to the hotel but only after making sure I slam the truck door when I get out. I’m pissed and he’s going to know it. I don’t care. There is no reason for him to ignore the fuck out of me like that, especially after our morning. He asked me to come here.Hemade it possible. I didn’t ask for this and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be treated like shit once I got here.

The sound of tires screeching as I walk through the automatic doors of the hotel makes my blood boil. I try to fight back the tears that are burning my eyes and then I have to fightangrytears at the thought of why I’m even upset in the first place.

I walk into a clean, pristine hotel room. Nothing is out of place. There’s a suitcase on the luggage rack inside the closet with only a few items of Cass’s clothing. On the desk, there’s a notebook open to a page with writing. Nothing written in the notebook makes any sense, though. It’s just a list of movie titles.

“So, he’s into music and movies. Nice.”

Exhaustion sets in as I lay across the bed. I’ve been awake for entirely too long and the orgasm I had only an hour ago has taken the rest of the energy I had left. Well, that and the simmering frustration.

The last thing that crosses my mind before the darkness of sleep engulfs me is Cass and why he had been so ugly to me. I don’t dream. Everything is dark and for the first time in weeks, I think Itrulyrested.

I wake to a knock on the hotel room door. I bolt upright, rubbing my eyes. I try to get my bearings about me as I scanthe room. Where am I? Hotel. Cass. California. Another knock sounds and I get up to answer it. Looking through the peephole, I notice a man that has the same purple and gold rebel flag patch that Cass does on his cut.

“Can I help you?” I ask, running a hand over my face. The man holds up two bags labeled ‘Tauna’s Boutique’.

“Cass sent me here with clothes for you,” the guy outside the door says.

I open the door and look at the man standing in front of me. He’s my height, a bit shorter maybe by an inch, with a dark-purple bandana on his head and a goatee that hangs down nearly three inches.

“You can come in,” I say stepping aside for the man to enter. He walks in and sets the bags down, but not before I notice the bottom rocker on his cut that reads ‘Prospect’.

“I’m Shorty,” he says.

“Lilly.”

“Nice to meet you. I had my wife go do some shopping for you. Cass said you needed something to wear because you ended up here without clothes.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

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