Page 11 of The Devil

Eventually, he moves aside to let me pass through because we all know who’s won here. Eric has always been the subservient male in this outfit, so he knows when to call it quits. His compliance doesn’t stop me from eyeballing him with warning when I shove past him. I also take my time walking up to Helena’s bedroom, looking at everyone so they know whose fucking place this is and who has the final say.

Slowly, I open her door, moving inside so as not to wake her. The last thing I want to do is have her questioning me, given the mood I’m in, so I take small, careful steps to avoid such a scenario. As soon as I see her curled up in a small fetal position, hair sprawled out behind her, I know I’m safe. There’s no way in hell she’s waking up anytime soon. I push the door closed with my foot kicking out behind me, no longer worrying about the soft thud it makes when it hits the frame behind me. I then shove my hands inside my pockets as I walk to the bed, lean over her, and catch a glimpse of her face. She looks pale and sickly, but also peaceful in her unconscious state. The gentle rise and fall of the thin blanket on top tells me she’s resting easily; her meds must have kicked in.

Not trusting any of the fuckers downstairs, I grab the superfluous amount of pillows and throws that Jen keeps inside these rooms, to construct a makeshift bed on the floor. It’s still going to feel like sleeping on a slab of stone, and I know I’ll feel like I’ve run a hundred miles tomorrow morning, but it will do for now.

Chapter 7

Helena

The room is lighter and the oppressive atmosphere I felt yesterday has finally lifted. So much so, I bask in the comfort of it a little while longer before consciously assessing the rest of me. My body feels cooler, and my previously throbbing head is now only somewhat muffled. Smiling to myself, I know the tablets have done their job and it feels euphoric. This is one of those moments when you are grateful to just feel normal instead of suffering in a world of pain.

Part of me doesn’t want to move; there is every possibility this might set off another headache, but eventually, the need to use the bathroom forces me to. I am relieved when my head doesn’t feel an ounce of discomfort as I turn toward the bathroom, and when I open my eyes, I can see normally again. The world is no longer a blur of colors; I can see clear outlines of everything in the room.

Lifting the cover, I swing my jelly-like legs over the mattress to begin walking over to the bathroom, but as soon as my foot hits the ground, I find myself stumbling over something warm and soft. The sensation is completely unexpected and causes me to yelp. The something moans on the floor beneath me, and I audibly gasp when I realize Lucius, the sullen boy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about anyone, is lying flat out on my bedroom floor. My hand immediately flies to my mouth, as though trying to push the noise of surprise back inside my throat. I stare at him, still shocked, but then begin to study him; the way he’s using his jacket as a pillow, the way his hands have small ink stains on them, the fact that he’s fully clothed, and it hits me just how captivating he is on the eye. His jet-black hair is ruffled from sleep and the muscles in his biceps ripple under his tanned skin. For the first time ever, he looks peaceful. The sight of which snaps me back to my predicament. Thankfully, my foot was not enough to wake him, so I decide to step over his hulking great body and go to the bathroom.

As soon as I close the door on my six-foot-something devil of a problem, I mentally begin to think of some kind of plan. I decide on doing…nothing. I’ll climb back into bed and pretend to be asleep. Knowing Lucius, he’ll sneak out himself and we can avoid all the awkwardness. It’s so simple, it can’t go wrong. With that in mind, I quickly and quietly clean my teeth and splash my face. After all, I haven’t done these most basic of hygienic activities in the last twenty-four hours or so.

The door does me a favor by opening without a single squeak or groan, and I walk out to find Lucius has rolled over into a fetal ball, making him look vaguely human, vulnerable almost. It’s a weird sight to see someone like Lucius in this position so spoil myself by looking at him in this small, less intimidating state for a little longer. From here, I notice how classically Italian he looks. Meri has shown me pictures of his mother, so I know how beautiful she was. There is no mistaking that Lucius is her son and that he has been lucky enough to inherit her beauty.

Chastising myself for ogling my monster-in-shining-armor, I tiptoe around him and climb back into bed. However, as soon as my head hits the pillow, he jerks upright with a start.

“Topolina?” he calls out, staring at me with mild surprise. “Oh, fuck.”

His eyes flutter closed, and he muffles a groan inside of his cupped hands. He shakes his head as though trying to clear his thoughts. I’m about to say something, but he suddenly jumps up and stretches.

“Do you know the last time I slept in a girl’s room without fucking her?” He turns to face me, rubbing his eyes and reaching up high to stretch out his back. “I have never done such a thing.”

“Well, there’s a first for everything,” I mutter. The use of my voice feels alien after my migraine, and I have to pause so I can cough and clear my throat. “But thank you, Lucius, last night was very chivalrous of you.”

“Don’t ever fucking say that again,” he says, laughing as if to himself. “You’re welcome.” For a moment, I think he might actually be decent, deep down, but then he clears his throat to tell me, “But now you owe me.”

“What?!” I take back the ‘chivalrous’ comment.

“You heard,” he says with a wicked smile spreading across his face. “I told you to stay out of last night. I knew I’d have to come and save your hide if you showed up and that’s exactly what happened. I just gotta decide what I want from you.” He grabs his jacket from off the floor and makes a move toward the door. “Here’re the rest of your pills,” he says, placing them on my nightstand. “Your dress suits you by the way.”

His comment makes me automatically lift the covers to my neck to cover up any skin I have on show, not to mention the braless state of my chest. I realize he’s already had a chance to see everything and more, but not covering myself at this point might make him think I am giving him permission to gawk. With this in mind, I look back at him with disbelief, only to find that wicked, tantalizing smirk still taunting me. I close my eyes as he walks out the door, softly closing it behind him.

Donotfall for the devil, Helena!

Half an hour after I’ve managed to dress myself, the whole time muttering obscenities about Lucius and his sleazy friends, I decide to face the world outside of my bedroom. I walk down the staircase to the sound of hungover teenagers moaning about their throbbing heads and bouts of nausea. When I eventually spy Meri, she’s slumped in a chair, face down on the table, with her arms desperately trying to cover her head in an attempt to block out any light. Sitting to her left are two girls with deathly-looking complexions, and to her right, another girl is resting her head in the crook of her arm. I’m pretty sure she’s asleep.

The remains of last night’s party are still scattered all over the place, causing me to wonder who exactly cleans up all the mess. I can’t imagine Lucius cleaning up after himself, or Meri for that matter. I find myself wincing for whoever it is; it looks like squatters have been in residence for the past ten years and have left all their shit behind.

Feeling much better, and ignoring all the detritus about the place, I skip down the stairs in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and an oversized red t-shirt. I’ve piled my hair up in a loose bun to avoid any pulling on my scalp. I’m currently in the danger zone of setting off another headache so will do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I make a beeline for the kitchen where I grab a pint glass from the cupboard and fill it with cold water. I seriously need to rehydrate myself.

“Someone’s spritely; you feeling better, Hels?” Meri mumbles from her position at the table. Her eyes are still covered in makeup, and she has a bad case of panda eyes from a lack of sleep and far too much alcohol.

“Much, thank you,” I reply as I lean against the sink behind me. “You don’t look so good. Rough night?”

“Oh, you have no idea!” she says with a wicked grin spread across her face. She looks at me in such a way, I know there’ll be more details later. Meri’s terrible at keeping secrets, especially with me. She knows she never has to worry about me spilling them to anyone else.

“Or maybe she does?” The resting girl pops her head up, making me jump from the shock of it. Obviously, she wasn’t asleep. “I saw you last night in your little black night-dress, minus underwear, being carried up to your room by none other than Lucius Hastings. That boy has a reputation don’t you know. He does bad things but in such a good way.”

The two other girls suddenly perk up and gasp over this piece of juicy information. Their staring has me shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other because, to be fair, that did sound suspicious.

“Relax, idiot, Helena had a migraine,” Meri chimes in, “it couldn’t have been her.”

“Actually, it kind of was,” I reply shyly, even though what they saw was completely innocent.

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