Page 11 of The Demons We Hide

“I’ll let you know if I find anything,” I tell him. A lie.

Ash flicks over the concrete slab of the parking garage floor as rich dark eyes move up over my face. “I hear you’ve been hanging around with the Donovan bitch,” he says.

My insides tighten and a fresh wave of anger fills me, burning through my blood until it’s all I feel.

“If my son’s been seen with her, it might have something to do with her as well,” Darrio’s words seem to echo all around me, each syllable bouncing off the walls and slamming into the side of my skull.

When I speak, my voice remains even and placid even if the words are anything but. “She’s none of your concern.”

Gio’s father jerks his head up and narrows his eyes on me. “What did you say?”

I turn to face the man fully, dropping the almost finished cigarette and stomping on the still lit end, crushing it under my foot. “I said”—I let the rage fill my lungs, my chest. Let it leak into every crevice of my body until it’s all I know—“That Juliet Donovan is none of your concern.” She’s mine. Ours.

“You don’t get to make that decision, son.”

“I’m not your son.” I say the words with no heat, but keep my gaze locked on the man I’m speaking to. Each movement is recorded. Each twitch marked. Each line in his face categorized.

Darrio Vargas scowls and takes a step towards me. All at once, I let go. Where I normally slouch in his presence—an effect that makes me seem less confident and less of a threat—I straighten to my full height and meet his gaze head on. It’s a silent dare. A threat when I’ve never done so before.

“I will find out who tried to kill your son,” I state.Your real son. Not me.“And I will handle Juliet Donovan. She has nothing to do with your business.”

Darrio chuckles, the sound grating along my nerve endings. “If you think the Donovans have nothing to do with my business, Nolan, then you’ll be quite surprised by the future you have with me.” I have no future with him, but he doesn’t know that yet. When I don’t respond to his obvious taunt, his expression shifts back to one of indignant aggravation. “She’ll be nothing but trouble to you,” he snaps. “I guarantee you—she is just like her family—a parasite on this town.”

“Like I said,” each word comes out clipped. “I’ll take care of it.”

Silently, I dare him to refute me. I wait for it. The common need of a man like him—overflowing with the desire to prove his own masculinity—to set me down. To remind me of myplace.

Instead, Darrio backs up and turns his head, spitting a wad of something dark and sticky out of the corner of his mouth. “See that you do.” Dropping his own cigarette to the ground, he crushes it under his steel toe and then turns, walking away.

I watch him pass by the bank of elevators and disappear down one of the darkened aisles of cars somewhere in the back of the garage. The fact that he’s not even bothering to go back up and see Gio or find a doctor doesn’t shock me. If anything, I’m accustomed to his dismissal of Gio. I have my own theories of why that is, but I do what I’ve always done—I keep to myself and head upstairs to do my duty.

When I reach the level that Gio’s room is on, I step out of the elevators to find a skinny-looking man with a light scruffy beard and rings beneath his eyes holding a box in front of the door. His phone is in his hand and he glances from it to the room and back again.

Scowling, I move forward. “Who are you?” I demand, making the man jump at the sudden bark of my voice.

He whirls towards me, the phone in his hand nearly slipping from his grasp as he does so. He catches it and yanks it close to his chest. Over his shoulder, I spy one of my mom’s coworkers peering after us curiously.

Damn it. Another reason I hate being in hospitals—it’s harder to hide this shit from her.

Lowering my voice, I redirect my attention back to the man. “You better have a good goddamn reason for standing outside this room,” I snap.

“I-I was just sent to deliver this,” the man stutters out, shoving the box towards me. The veins in his neck stand out and there’s a thin layer of perspiration coating his forehead and upper lip.

Flicking a glance at the box he’s holding out, I blink and then relax. Thank fuck. I reach for it. “You’re delivering this?” I clarify, my voice losing its automatic anger.

The man seems to release a sigh. “Yeah. It’s late, but the tip the guy gave was good, so I?—”

I ignore his words as he prattles on and take the box from him, ripping it open to find a new cell phone inside. Lex. Fuck. Now I’m going to have to tell him that I hadn’t been able to find Juliet and that none of the guys working under me for Vargas had yet to return to the hospital with news. Not having this little piece of technology had made coordinating everything a shit show. Destroying my last one in a fit of rage over the Princess was like cutting off my own damn arm.

“Thank you,” I say to the babbling courier, cutting him off as I reach into my back pocket and withdraw my wallet. I pull out a few twenties and hand them over. Even if Lex paid him for the late-night delivery, money makes people listen when you speak. “Consider your job done.”

“Wait—I need to make sure the name?—”

“Nolan Pierce,” I cut him off.

He stares at the money in one hand and flicks a look to the cell in his other. “That’s… erm… yeah, okay. Good. Just sign here?” He turns the cell around and I use my finger to scribble out a signature on the screen. With that, he takes the money and pockets his phone and walks away.

I finish ripping the box all the way open, pulling the new cell free and pressing the button to turn it on. As the screen lights up, the phone at the nurses’ station rings, distracting the woman there long enough for me to slip into Gio’s room. Mrs. Vargas looks up and there’s fresh tear tracks on her cheeks.

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