Hell (Black Heart Romance)

The energy in the car is sour, heavy. I stare out the window as he drives us wherever we’re going. Why bother asking? It’s not like I’ll get a straight answer anyway. By the time we reach a small, brick office building in the middle of nowhere, we’ve been on the road for almost forty-five minutes. This isn’t like the cabin situation, though. We’re not in the woods. More like a secluded little hideaway with trees and a freshly mowed lawn the size of a football field.

I hesitate rather than getting out of the car right away. Alexei peers at me. “Well? You gonna get out or what?”

“Where are we?” There aren’t any signs around saying this is a doctor’s office or any kind of office. He could’ve brought me to some kind of torture chamber for all I know.

He nods toward the building. “It’s where the doc lives. Boss set it up. She doesn’t, you know, have an office.” He clears his throat, and that sound expresses a whole lot of things he either doesn’t want to say or isn’t at liberty to explain. Either way, I get the message. A regular doctor doesn’t make the sort of house call she did.

Here goes nothing.

He’s waiting for me outside the car, munching on an apple. There’s something so normal about it, I could almost laugh. Sliding his aviators down the bridge of his nose, he looks me over. “You okay?”

“Yeah, she gave me a shot, made sure the puncture was clean. A little ointment for the pain.”

“Good.” He tosses the apple core into some bushes before moving toward the rear driver’s side door—then stops when I hold up a hand.

“Can I sit up front with you?”

“Huh?”

“I hate riding in the back like that. It makes me feel weird.” I can tell this is unusual for him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to short circuit your brain or anything.”

All he does is sigh, closing the door before walking around the car and opening the passenger door for me. I climb in, and he closes it, then walks around again, muttering to himself. Probably wondering what he’s supposed to do with me sitting next to him for the better part of an hour.

We’re barely off the property before he asks if I’m hungry. I didn’t expect that question. “Want to go to a drive-thru on the way back?” he suggests as we pull out onto the tree-lined road.

“Yeah, that would be good.” I was a little too distracted to eat this morning. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” He taps his fingers against the wheel before reaching for the radio controls. “You want music?”

“If you want.” He turns it on and finds something surprisingly quiet, sort of nice. Easy listening, I think they call it. It fits with the pretty area we’re in. I can almost imagine we’re on a nice country drive. “I wonder if people take them anymore.”

“Hmm?”

I didn’t mean to say that part out loud. “Drives. Just driving for the sake of driving. When I was little, we were pretty poor, and sometimes all my mom could afford to do was take me for a drive someplace. When gas wasn’t too expensive.”

“Too much other stuff to do.” He snorts. “You can go on YouTube and watch a video somebody took of a drive they went on.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Right? It’s so bizarre, like videos of people opening boxes. They’re so popular. I don’t get it.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned working for the boss, it’s that you can’t figure out what people are into.”

“I guess you see a lot.”

“I do.” I can see him glancing my way from behind his sunglasses. “It’s not always fun. I guess I want you to know that. We’ve all got shit we’re trying to take care of, you know? Lucian pays well. That kind of money takes care of a lot of shit.”

There’s something in his voice I’ve never heard before. Like there might be a human being in there. “I never thought of it that way, I have to admit.”

“Everybody’s got a cross to bear. Something my mom used to say when I was a kid. She can’t say much of anything anymore.”

I think I get the message he’s trying to send. He has people he takes care of. He was probably in the same sort of spot I was in or something close to it. Desperate. Who’s going to say no to that kind of money when they have a shit ton of medical bills piling up? I know how that goes, for sure.

He looks my way again. “Shit went bad last time you were with him.”

“Shit went bad the last two times,” I point out.

“You mean when you passed out from an orgasm? Yes, it looked like you had a terrible time.”

My face suddenly feels like it’s on fire. Sometimes I forget that Alexei fucked me at the club. Probably my mind suppressing it.