Page 66 of Sleeping Redemption
“Good, because I want him to smell your sweet cum every time he holds his phone to his face.” Maybe then the bastard would stop denying himself and Kinley of what they both needed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After Rook left me a quivering mess bent over the dresser in his bedroom, he left to go on what he referred to as a reconnaissance mission involving buying blood-infused cocktails for a wurdulac demon by the name of Admir.
As he had explained it to me, Admir had been known to hang around the inner circles of the more foraging sorts of Hell’s underbelly. He was holding out hope that if anybody could confirm Nico’s continued existence, this particular bloodthirsty acquaintance of his would know who.
Before he left, he twirled his finger in the air, and a smear of charcoal and clay stripes appeared on his face reminiscent of a type of camouflage. However, I was certain that there wasn’t ever a place that Rook would blend into, no matter how he altered his looks. His penchant for grand entrances was too profound.
He had insisted on leaving here like some sort of dark and twisted version of a special forces soldier on a secret ops mission. His excuse was that he didn’t want to run into anybodywho had beef with him. Honestly? We both knew he just wanted to play dress-up.
After he went on his deployment to meet up with the dregs of Hell, I took the opportunity to do some research of my own while spread out on a cushioned wicker sofa on my closed-in porch, my laptop settled on top of my thighs.
I dug into the finer details of the most recent activities of Lucifer’s lackeys. Pulling up SIN’s files on Torture, Punishment & Sinners—otherwise known as TPS reports—I took a look at any trends in those doing work in the name of Hell.
At an international level, the shift in activity was negligible. Digging in a little further, I pulled up sector after sector to see if there had been any notable events that would suggest that a large-scale shift was on the horizon. Every sector in the world was based around a portal to Hell, and there were six hundred and sixty-six of them. This was going to take a while, so I sent an SOS text to Zorah.
KINLEY
I need an emergency cup of caffeine.
KINLEY
Z? This is an SOS. I will wither and die looking over TPS reports without it.
KINLEY
I can see the read message notification.
KINLEY
For all things hellish, if you don’t answer me, I will never go on an emotional terrorism spree with you again.
Z
Fuck, I’m trying to have an orgasm over here, no thanks to you and my asshole brother. Can you give me a few minutes?
KINLEY
Coffee over cunts.
Z
You know, if I told you coffee over cocks, you’d bitch slap me, right?
KINLEY
I know, but you still love me.
Z
Fuck you, Lee-Lee.
Z
Be there in twenty.
I smiled in satisfaction that I could always rely on my best friend to help me out of the goodness of her little black heart.
