The Devil (BOOK I + II)

17 | "Why Do I Even Bother"

Chapter Seventeen
"Why Do I Even Bother"

"Men are afraid that women will laugh at them.
Women are afraid that men will kill them."
~ margaret atwood

┏━━━━━━━┓

I was gaping. I couldn't help it.

Despite Daemon's feet pointed at Naveen, his neck was craned in my direction, his face lacking any indication to what he was thinking.

My chest felt heavy the longer we stared at each other, but I refused to be first to look away. I could tell he was straightening, though, seeing how the fabric around his shoulders seemed to stretch across his skin.

Naveen's faint chuckle made him snap his eyes away first. He started to stuff his gun into the waistband of his pants before turning his body toward me.

I inhaled sharply and lifted my chin before pushing the door open wider, so I could fill the space. There was no point in hiding my presence now.

Daemon completely ignored Naveen as he snaked forward. "Rose," he said coldly, but knowing him this long, I could hear the edge in his tone as he spoke, almost cautiously.

My body reacted before my mind did. I stepped back, and his eyes flashed with something before I could read into it. My attention was on him, but I didn't say anything. I did, however, notice Naveen—who was sliding toward the end of the alleyway, where his gun laid.

His movements were fluid as he bent down, grabbing the gun, before quietly sliding out of the alley, like he'd never been there in the first place.

"Alina," Daemon rushed out, his voice unfamiliarly unstable. "Look at me."

You're going against your code.

Kill people you're hired to kill.

It felt like a bucket of cold water poured over me. Code. Kill people you're hired to kill.

He told me to look at him, but my eyes continued to lower to the pavement between us. He was a few feet away from me now, but the more I avoided his gaze, the closer he got. At one point, he started to talk, but his voice sounded muffled. I felt my grip on the doorknob tightening the longer my thoughts played out.

Usually in a fight or flight situation, I was fight all the way. I craved the adrenaline like an alcoholic desired alcohol. But seeing Daemon sliding closer to me with strained features that made me want to run and hide, because I didn't like the emotions that were unidentified but rising inside me.

So, I ran away.

Well actually, I walked. I spun on my heel and walked down the hall that separated me from the club, passing by the people who were lining up for the bathrooms. I kept my chin up as I strode, but my steps nearly faltered when I heard the metal door creak open again, followed by Daemon's pounding feet.

"Alina!" His voice was stern, almost similar to a father who was disciplining a child. "Stop!"

My steps sped up, until I was almost running back inside the dark room. And it was just like I left it—women dancing in the cages on either side of the DJ, and people dancing in almost every square inch of the space.