Page 73 of Devil's Bargain

TWELVE

Me: When will I see my money, dipshit?

The Devil: When you suck Daddy’s cock real good!

I throw my phone across the room and scream in frustration. My mom is asleep in the living room, strung out on whatever shit runs through her veins. I found another eviction notice on the kitchen counter when I had my breakfast this morning. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

I climb off the bed and retrieve my phone.

Me: Please! I won’t have a home this time next week if I can’t pay the bill.

The Devil: My heart bleeds!

I growl!

Me: I’ll do whatever you want!

The Devil: I’m listening.

Me: Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.

The Devil: You’re going to pack a bag and go wait outside.

I frown.

Me: Why would I do that?

The Devil: Those are the terms if you want the bill paid.

I startle, dropping my phone as Rick knocks on the window. He slides it up and climbs inside.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, sneaking a look at my phone next to me on the bed.

“I wanted to see you.”

The phone screen goes dark.

Rick scratches the back of his neck. “I was thinking about you last night, and well… I ended up watching the entire series of Sailor Moon.”

My mouth drops open. I burst out laughing. Here is this big burly footballer, and he’s telling me he watched a season of Sailor Moon because he was thinking of me?

“That’s not the worst part,” he says as he sinks down on the edge of the bed. “I liked it. Fuck! I need help, April.”

I’m a giggling mess. “Your secret is safe with me!” I stand up and walk over to the window. “Take me somewhere.”

“Don’t you want your phone?” he asks as he climbs out after me.

“Shit!” I rush back inside and pick it up off the end of the bed. We need to hurry before the vehicle the Devil sent shows up. I climb back out, darting my gaze around as I follow him to his car. It’s not here yet.

I get in Rick’s Porsche and strap on the seatbelt as he rounds the hood. He lowers himself into the seat, fastens his seatbelt, and starts the engine. “Where to?”

“Just drive.”

He looks at me briefly and then reverses his Porsche and swings it out of the driveway.

I’ve never been in a car this expensive before. I don’t know where to look first. It’s sleek with a black leather interior, red trim, and polished chrome gears and buttons. It smells of Rick and leather. Unlike my car, there are no cigarette burns or suspicious stains and no lingering smell of dogs. It smells new. Expensive.

“Where are we going?” I ask after a moment’s silence.

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