“You know, sometimes they ask the family to stay away. I guess it’s so we can focus on our recovery, you know, without the pull of the outside world drawing us back into bad habits.”
I wasn’t convinced. “I’m not a bad habit.”
“Of course you’re not. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, Ryley. I guess what I’m trying to say, and failing miserably, is that I think I need some time on my own to do this. I don’t want you seeing me when I’m fighting my demons. It won’t be pretty.”
Who was he kidding? I’d seen him at rock bottom. Nothing fazed me now, and I told him as much, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I feel like I need to do this alone. Please, Ryley. Just give me this one thing. Three months to get myself together, and then I’ll come back to you. The old me will come back to you.”
When he put it like that, who was I to argue? Having the old Justin back was the end game, after all. So I relented, agreeing to see him in three months. I knew without a doubt that I’d be counting down every damn second until I was in his arms again.
We hugged each other like it was the end of our world, only dragging ourselves away when the driver coughed, then remarked on the state of traffic and the long drive ahead.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to go back home.” Justin gave me a regretful smile. “I’ve always felt so guilty about your mum and dad. You need them, Ryley, and they need you.”
I nodded in agreement, but I couldn’t meet his eyes in case he saw the guilt hiding behind my smile.
“Say thanks to your dad for settling the debts for me. I’ll pay him back every penny once I’m back on my feet, I swear.”
I hated lying to him, but it was for his own good. We needed a clean slate. We deserved it.
He climbed into the car, and as it pulled away, I noticed a familiar figure across the road, leaning against a black sports car. I prayed to God that Justin hadn’t seen him before driving off. Why Jackson Caine felt the need to watch our misery was beyond me. He made my blood boil. He really was devoid of all humanity.
I folded my arms and stalked over to where he stood, looking smug as hell with his dark grey suit and aviator sunglasses to hide his evil glare.
“One hour,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “I don’t have to see you for one hour. Give me that at least.”
He threw something over to me and I caught it.
“What’s this?” I held up the black key card, knowing full well what it was.
“That is the key to your new home,” he said with a wicked grin. I didn’t share in his enthusiasm.
“The key to hell, you mean. Your place will never be my home.”
He smirked and turned his back on me then. I did the same and stalked back across the road to go and hide in my true home for as long as I had left. The rev of the engine as he sped off made me jump out of my skin.
“Asshole,” I muttered, and then I smiled. I was going to make Jackson Caine rue the day he ever invited me into his life. If he thought he was in for an easy ride, he had another thing coming. I was going to make his life pure hell. Hell for the devil he was.
“Well, this isn’t at all what I’d imagined. Where are the shackles and chains? The fire and brimstone?”
I don’t know who I was talking to. There wasn’t anyone else in Jackson Caine’s swanky apartment. He’d had one of his numbskull security guys pick me up at one o’clock, and he’d brought me straight up to his penthouse apartment. It was awesome. The evil overlord had indeed created his own version of heaven.
The entrance hall was all plush cream carpets and chrome fixtures, with a black baby grand piano off to the side. Did the demon actually play as he was plotting his command in Hell? He probably struggled playing Chopsticks. He looked like the kind of guy to be all show and no delivery. I couldn’t see any sheet music, or anything to indicate that he played, so I figured my assessment was spot on. I sniggered to myself as I headed into the living room. It took my breath away, seeing the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a spectacular view of the city. Grey velvet sofas ran around a large glass coffee table. A huge T.V., bigger than any I’d ever seen, was mounted on the wall, and gadgets were dotted around everywhere. He liked to feel powerful and in total control of his domain, that was for sure.
What surprised me the most though, was the extra little touches here and there. White roses were arranged in vases, and cushions placed perfectly on the sofas. There was a silver rug in front of the modern fireplace that looked so soft, and in any other circumstance I’d have gone straight to it and lay down, run my fingers across the delicate threads, but not here. Did he have a woman living here with him? No man I’d ever met kept fresh flowers or scatter cushions. No man like Jackson Caine, anyway. Was I reading this all right?
I heard my phone ping with an incoming message, and I yanked it out of my bag, expecting to see Justin’s name. The message was from an unknown sender. I should’ve guessed he’d have my number already. I couldn’t deny that my heart sank slightly, knowing it was him.
Jackson - Your room is down the hall, the second door on the right. Unless you’ve changed your mind and want to share my bed.
Like that was ever going to happen.
I’d rather sleep in a wasps’ nest.
I threw my phone back into my bag, but a response came through straight away.
Jackson - And there I was thinking we were bonding.