Page 24 of Devil's Due

I do, but do I want to invade her privacy like that? “Nah, Cad, thanks, but not now.”

“Is that it?” Demon asks. “Or are you seeing her again?”

Feeling sheepish, but not understanding why, I look him in the eye. “I’m taking her back to visit her dog this evening.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” Pyro wanders back. “Bitch was hot.”

Chapter Nine

My temper flares. Man’s got no right to talk about her like that. Doesn’t he know she’s…Huh? Where did that come from?Instead of ranting, I sling my arm over his shoulder. “You’re not wrong. Hey, meant what I said. I appreciated what you did last night.”

“Not a problem. Can see what caught your interest Brother. You tapped that, yet?”

“Nah, and I’m not going there.”

His brow creases as if he’s considering for a moment. Then he shrugs. “Just wondering what it would be like to fuck a woman who’s blind.”

Not much different to anyone else I wouldn’t think.“A hole’s a hole, Brother.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “You ever had a girl let you blindfold her?”

“Nah, never,” I truthfully reply.

He nods sagely. “Takes a lot of trust, that. Did it once, but she wasn’t into it. Had to untie her as she was too worried what I’d do to her. S’pose the bitch girl’s a bit like that.”

I eye him thoughtfully, never considered that. I wonder what it would be like? Then push those thoughts away. “Well, neither of us are going to find out. She’s a nice woman, way out of our league.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t be worth the bother. Her problems would be hard to cope with.”

Demon’s obviously bored waiting for us to finish our conversation. He suddenly asks, “You want to dump your shit in your room, Beef? I’d like a word with you when you’re done.”

“Sure, Prez.” God. I had to force that word out. I’ve only called two men that before, the first was Bastard, then after he was killed, Drummer. It seems strange and wrong, making me suddenly homesick.

“Prospect?” Demon yells.

When the prospect who I remember is called Wills appears at a run, Demon has a few words, then the prospect’s raising the saddlebags I’d dropped at my feet and is leading the way up the stairs. I follow, wondering what kind of room I’ll be in. I know there’re two types here, a few basic rooms with a shared bathroom, and others with an en-suite of their own. I’m praying mine will be one of the latter as I’ve been spoiled in Tucson for years.

When Wills unlocks the door then hands me the key, I poke my head around, quickly spying the doorway through to the adjacent bathroom, and relief comes over me that I’m not going to have to share. I’m too old for that shit.

“Keep your door locked at all times,” he warns.

“Who don’t we trust?” I narrow my eyes.

“Not who, what. Bitch can open these door handles and she doesn’t like men so be careful.” Turning around I eye the door handle, thinking with some quick work with a screwdriver it could easily be turned upside down. I wonder why no one else has thought of it.

Crossing the room to the bed, Wills places my bags there, then turns back. “You’ve got a mini-fridge.” He points it out. “If you want anything else just call me.”

“How long you been prospecting, Wills?” I ask conversationally, as I catalogue the contents of the room. There’s a desk, a comfortable looking armchair, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a bedside table. It’s quite a large room too.

“Getting on twelve months. Oh, and I put beer in the fridge and condoms in the top drawer.”

I grin. Everything a man needs. Yeah, prospect’s probably near done his time and knows what a brother needs. “Thanks.”

As he leaves without fanfare, reluctantly I start emptying my bags. The other shit Pal brought back for me is sitting in the corner waiting to be put away. It feels wrong and permanent. I make myself remember this is just temporary, that Drummer sent me here to do a job. Soon as I help Demon choose his new VP, and know Colorado is running smoothly, then I’ll be able to return home. Unless Drummer has other plans for me.I hope not.

My phone rings. I pause halfway through putting away my tee-shirts, fumbling with the armful I’m holding, shoving them in a drawer, then trying to get to the device before it goes to voicemail. I make it just in time without checking who’s calling.

“You got Beef.”

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