Page 77 of Demon with Benefits
“I gotta go,” Raum said. “Keep Meph’s phone on you. I’ll call again to come get it.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“I’ll call you when I’m coming to get the phone.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Do you know where he is?” she asked again.
“If you’re not getting involved with him, you need to step out now. You’ll only make things worse.”
“But—”
He hung up.
Iris stood in the kitchen of her empty house and stared at the wall.
It was better this way, she told herself. Raum was right. She should step out now before she got any deeper into this mess. She should let Meph’s brother take care of things. She should stop prying and leave Meph to live his life.
Faust stared up at her and whined softly like he sensed something was wrong.
Faust.Oh, who was she kidding? She had named her dog for him, for fuck’s sake. Somehow the sight of those adorable red eyes was the final straw.
All of a sudden, she burst into tears.
Standing naked while her dog whined at her feet, she cried real tears for the first time since her parents had died. All the hatred and coldness she’d built up over the last decade was suddenly too much to bear, and it burst out of her.
She was sick of the anger. Sick of the fear. Sick of her never-ending fight to keep the world at bay, to push away any good feeling before it got too close, because deep down, she didn’t believe she deserved to be happy.
She was so fuckingmad.
She was mad at herself for being weak. She was mad at Lily for being stronger than her and not being filled with the same vengeful rage. She was mad at her mam for coercing her into that vow, and she was mad at her dad for going along with it. She was mad at Valefor for ruining her life simply because he wanted some witches for his collection.
And she was mad at Meph for not being the “shallow piece of shit” she’d originally judged him as. She was mad at him for giving her a glimpse of his pain, which was a thousand times worse than she’d imagined, and thereby forcing her to confront her own.
She sank to the floor and sobbed, pulling Faust into her arms and squeezing him so tightly that he squirmed to get away. She didn’t let him go. That little ball of fluff was her only lifeline, and she clung to him.
Eventually, the tears dried up. When they did, everything was numb. Her shame and guilt. Her fears. Her anger. All of it was wrung out, dried up, exhausted, and done.
Without that anger constantly simmering under her skin as it had for years, she was left with a clarity she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. She saw herself, her thoughts and her actions, in a new light, and she finally accepted that she needed to make some changes in her life.
Starting with herself.
The forest outside was covered by the dark blanket of night, and Jacqueline Gregory stood alone in her art studio, studying the incomplete sculpture before her with a frown.
It wasn’t Meph’s usual style. This piece was of a nude woman huddled in a crouch, her arms wrapped around her knees, her hair over her face. Wings rose from her back, but they were as of yet incomplete, so it was impossible to know what type of wings they would be. Angel, demon, or something else? Was the woman cowering? Afraid? Or was the piece still missing some integral part that would change the perception?
Unlike all Meph’s other sculptures, however, there was nothing physically wrong with the subject. No obvious wounds or torture being inflicted.
Like the pain she was in came solely from inside her.
“He’s good,” a familiar voice said from behind her. So familiar, it made her heart lurch and her throat tighten. “Really good.”
Slowly, Jacqui turned and took in the handsome visage of her husband. He looked the same as he always did, though perhaps more tired. With everything that had changed between them, it was almost strange to see him with that same face.
It felt like they should both look different. New bodies to match the new reality they’d found themselves in.
