Page 54 of The Devil

“Of course, baby,” Evan whispers, “you take all the time you need.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night, baby.”

When he finally leaves, I release a long breath and ready myself to cry until I pass out, which I hope will come sooner rather than later.

Lucius

It’s Christmas day and I’m sitting in my uncle’s seedy nightclub, aka, his cover for his criminal businesses, including, but not restricted to, money laundering, arms and drugs dealing, prostitution, and smuggling. As a young impressionable teen, Uncle Anthony from my mother’s side offered me a position in the family business. It was a rapid and hard pass for me. I was already heading straight to hell; I didn’t need to give Satan any other ammunition against me. Besides, rich boy falling into the criminal underbelly of the city was a little too Hollywood for my tastes. I prefer to carry out my somewhat questionable deals in a top-floor office, surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the country, and without the threat of incarceration. It’s far more stimulating for me to be somewhat creative with our laws, manipulating them for my own gain.

However, that doesn’t mean I won’t enlist his services should and when I need them. Had it not been for Anthony’s assistance, my rapist father would still be walking around instead of being buried beneath a layer of thick concrete that now has a five-star retirement village on top of it. Well, parts of him at least. Paul had warned me to never deal with Anthony again at the time, that this was a one-time thing, a special exception. I agreed, promising to only see Anthony on a family level. And to this day, he still believes that. Not that I’ve had anyone murdered since then, but occasionally, he acquires information on my behalf.

Half-naked women and creepy old men are my current company, which is beyond pathetic. However, what with Paul and Jen trying to reconcile a broken marriage, my half-sister staying with the woman I refuse to think about, Anthony was the only person stopping me from falling into a whiskey coma back at my apartment. It’s not much of a step up from that, but a step all the same.

“You wanna girl or two out back?” Anthony shouts at me over the music. “Good ol’ Uncle Anthony can hook you up like that!” he says with a sleazy grin and a click of his fingers. He’s met with one of my usual expressions of nonchalance that more than conveys how much I would not like him to ‘hook’ me up. I’m then met with one of his unsubtle laughs that manages to carry across the assault already on my ears, aka, the music.

“Oh, nephew, you’re too young to be this hung up on one girl. What’s her name again? Helena, is it?”

“I warned you to never utter her name,” I growl, which shockingly, he heard. I need to forget her. Forgetus.

“Who have you been sleeping with then?”

I train my eyes forward, clenching my jaw, because I’d rather get up and shake my ass to the awful music than tell him the truth.

“Ah, shit, man, that’s sad. No wonder you’re always fucking miserable,” he says contemplatively. “A man without sex is a pathetic creature indeed.”

“I do not need, nor want, a woman,” I utter with disdain in my voice. “I want a relationship even less so.”

He merely puts his hands up in surrender while bulging his eyes over my lack of any sort of love life. I then see him open his mouth to say something innocuous, though luckily for me, my phone buzzes to life. I immediately answer it without checking the ID; it’s my ticket out of here.

“Hastings,” I answer formally, as if anyone in a professional capacity is going to be calling on Christmas day.

“What-up, bro?” Meri trills.

“Merial,” I reply, wondering if I would have been better off staying with Anthony in that God-forsaken room. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Happy Christmas, by the way,” she chirrups, to which she’s met with stony silence. “Ok, Ebeneezer, I’ll get straight to it; are you seeing someone?”

“I fail to see how that has anything to do with you,” I sigh, “or why you would deem it appropriate to ask me such a thing on a public holiday.”

“God, do you ever just reply with a straightforward answer?” she huffs. “Well, you’re gonna be particularly awful when I tell you, but for Helena’s sake, I’m going in.”

My body automatically stiffens at the mention of her name, and I brace myself for what is about to come out of Merial’s mouth.

“Hels’ father has just told her that you’ve been seeing someone for the past three months and that it’s getting serious. Apparently, this came from Paul, who I would have gone to first, but seeing as he and Mom are away, I thought I’d risk it and ask the devil himself.”

For a moment or two, I only have a string of expletives with which to answer my step-sister, but then I begin listening to my more rational train of thought. This is an opportunity to make sure Helena is finally set free from me, ensuring I have no hope of getting to her again. My lack of willpower will be worth nothing if I give Merial the answer that is sure to make Helena keep away from me for good. It will be the final nail in the coffin that is our love for one another.

“Not that it is any of yours or Helena’s business, but yes, I am. Now, is that all?”

“Oh, no, there’s plenty more, but it’s Christmas and I try not to use expletives or threaten people’s lives on this sacred day.”

“Jesus and I are beyond grateful,” I mutter.

“Screw it, you’re a piece of shit,” she says, “whoops!”

I’m then met with a continuous tone, signaling the end of our phone call. I stare at the screen, never having wanted her to still be on the line more. But it’s better this way…for both of us. I sigh before heading home to my whiskey coma.

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