An Angel for the Devil Page 6

  Alistair steps into a darkened doorway and props me against stone.

  “Pull up your dress, baby,” he grits out. I do as I’m told, gathering the hem up to my waist—and a moment later, I hear his zipper being jerked down. “God, you look like a fucking princess in this dress. And you are, aren’t you?” He uses his steel erection to move aside the barrier of my panties, wedging himself inside me roughly, groaning, thrusting the remaining distance and making me whimper. “Daddy’s tight little princess.”

  I can only nod as I’m bounced fastfastfast on Alistair’s thickness, his groans muffled by the side of my neck. I tighten and release the muscles of my womanhood, the way I’ve learned he loves, the friction sending ripples of pleasure through me. Our mouths find one another and mate frantically, the pace of his hips picking up even more until the slap of us joining echoes loudly in the streets, along with our moans.

  “Tell me you want my come,” he growls into my ear, his fingers biting into the cheeks of my bottom, one of his palms cracking down onto my backside, sending a delicious rippling sting to my core. “Tell me you need it to live.”

  “I’ll die without your come,” I gasp, my legs beginning to tremble, all my nerve endings racing around and buzzing, pulling taut. I seem to reach this point sooner and sooner every time we make love, because I know what to do now. I know how to tilt my hips just right so Alistair’s sex will drag up and back against my sensitive nub and oh, oh God. “I’m g-going to…I’m going to…”

  “Ahhhh. Fuck, baby. Me too.”

  “I love you. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. God, so much.”

  We fall apart together there, in the shadows of Paris, kissing in between gasps, love thick in the air around us. And I never imagine for a second that we can be torn apart…

  * * *

  It’s when we land at the airport that dread begins to build in my belly.

  Paris was a fairytale, but reality is intruding fast.

  Alistair carries me off the plane and keeps me on his lap in the back of the limousine. I cling to him, inhaling the masculine scent from his neck like a lifeline. I’ve allowed too much time to pass without telling Alistair the truth. But I have to believe he’ll understand. I have to believe that the man he’s become will be compassionate and patient. He’s not the devil anymore, right?

  I close my eyes and snuggle closer, praying with all my might that our love is strong enough to survive the truth about who I am. Why I was on that road in the first place the day he picked me up.

  “You haven’t talked to your family since we left,” he says, kissing my neck, licking it in the shape of a heart. “If you want to invite them over for dinner tomorrow, I can start preparing myself to be irritated now.”

  Despite my worry, I have to giggle. “You’re so sure you’ll be annoyed?”

  “Yes. That’s an hour I could be spending inside you.” He stokes my bottom beneath my skirt. “We have to swing by a couple of my buildings on the way home,” he murmurs into my ear, unaware that his words set a bomb off inside of me. “There are a couple of changes I need to make in day-to-day operations.”

  My hand curls into a fist on his shoulder. “Changes?”

  “Yes.” He hesitates briefly. “I think I’ve been a little harsh with my tenants. I’m going to institute a grace period for paying rent.” There’s a smile in his voice now. “I’m going to call it the Shelby Clause.”

  Tears swarm my eyes. “That’s lovely.” I ignore the sense of foreboding in my belly and gather my courage. “I knew you would change the rule on your own. I knew you would do the right thing.”

  Alistair’s muscles tighten beneath me. “What do you mean by that?”

  Finally, I lift my head and whatever he sees on my face causes him to go pale.

  “Alistair, I have to tell you something.”

  He visibly braces himself. “What is it, angel?”

  “I…I…” My heart is going to break free of my chest. “Will you promise to listen start to finish and try to be calm?”

  His eyes take on a sharper quality. A hint of panic. “Out with it, Shelby.”

  Oh, God. I haven’t even told him yet and he’s pulling away from me emotionally. As if he expected this blow to come sooner or later. “I live in one of your buildings.”

  “What?” Dark eyebrows slash together. “Why…why didn’t you tell me that?”

  I’m going to hyperventilate. “After my father lost his job, my family couldn’t pay the rent this month. You sent them an eviction notice and…and…” I press a hand to my chest to stop the fearful rapping of my heart. “We were desperate and my mother, she thought I could…she thought you might be lenient if I offer m-myself in exchange for the money we owe. My virginity.”

  Alistair might as well be made of marble, like so many of the statues we saw in Paris this week. A crank behind his eyes is the only thing that moves, rapidly processing the information, his carefree expression reverting back to bitter, like it was when we met on the road, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Well. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Mission accomplished.”

  “What?” I shake my head. “No. I gave up on the mission as soon as you brought me home. There was only us. And when you postponed the eviction, I knew…I knew you were going to give my family more time without me having to convince you. Because you’re a good man.”

  “Just stop,” he says raggedly, plucking me off his lap and setting me beside him on the seat, leaving me completely bereft. His chest heaves up and down and it burns me alive, knowing I’m hurting him. “You’re a con. An opportunist. This is why I stay away from everyone. This is fucking why. You all turn out to be selfish, self-serving liars eventually. Quite a show you put on, though, Shelby. Bravo.”

  “It wasn’t a show,” I sob, a fissure forming in my middle. “I love you.”

  My words go in one ear and out the other. “You had every chance to tell me the truth, but you waited until I put a ring on your finger, didn’t you? A free month of rent wasn’t enough, I guess.”

  I’ve been struck in the stomach by a fastball. “Stop talking like this. What we have is real, Alistair. I—”

  “God,” he pushes through his teeth. “I’m a fucking fool, aren’t I?” He gives me a mean once over. “Amazing what a man will do for hot pussy.”

  I slap him across the face on reflex because the splitting of my heart is so intense, so painful, that my hand flies on its own. Alistair goes deadly still, his eyes closing briefly. When they open again, they are teeming with regret. But it’s too late. My heart is shattered into a thousand pieces and all I want to do, all I can think about, is getting as far away from him as possible. This man told me he loved me, asked me to be his wife, and our love has been stripped down to something ugly in a matter of seconds. Our trust is gone.

  I’m partially to blame—I know that—which only makes it worse.

  The limousine stops at a red light and with a sob lodged in my throat, I turn and throw myself out of the vehicle, hitting the sidewalk running.

  “Shelby! Come back.”

  Alistair’s strangled roar hangs in the air behind me, but I keep sprinting without looking back. The movie theater up ahead is familiar. This is only a mile from my house, meaning I know the lay of the land better than Alistair.

  Disappearing into the scenery while my ex-fiancé shouts my name gets easier and easier as the numbness steals over me.

  It’s over.

  Chapter 10

  Alistair

  What in God’s name have I done?

  Acid boils in my stomach, pain jabbing the backs of my eyes. The world is lacking in all sound as I turn in several directions, searching for Shelby. There is no sign of her. She has vanished into the landscape, taking all of the color and sound along with her. My breaths are loud in my ears, dizziness rising up and causing me to pitch sideways, thanks to memories of her stricken expression.

  What did I do?

  Jesus, how c
ould I say those things to her?

  She was sent to me as a sacrifice. A virgin offering. It brought her into my life, yes, but she never should have been put in that position. As far as she knew, I was an evil bastard before we met. What if I’d been the kind of man who hurts women? The fact that she was put in potential danger is unacceptable. She’s eighteen, for godsakes. Her family is supposed to protect her, not use her for their own advantage.

  And I…I blamed her.

  Lashed out in anger and said truly mean things that I didn’t mean in an attempt to disguise my own pain.

  Damn me. I called her a liar, an opportunist. I pushed her away.

  Now I’m going to pay for it, aren’t I?

  I’ve hurt the sweetest, gentlest girl in the world. The girl who loved me and fought to get through to me, even when I was a bitter shell of a human.

  No. No, please. I can’t have lost her.

  A hole forms in my stomach and grows rapidly larger as I stumble to the limousine and brace my hands on the roof, trying to think. My driver stands a few feet away, calling my name, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from the inside of a tunnel. Freezing cold sweat beads on my face and rolls downward, soaking into my collar. What if she’s in danger? What if I find her, beg her forgiveness, but the hurt I inflicted is too great for her to love me anymore?

  My knees almost give way, my mouth going bone dry.

  Focus.

  Focus.

  I have to find her.

  I’m burning so hot with grief that it takes me a moment to realize where we are. I own several of the high rises on this street. Does Shelby live in one of these? No. No, thinking back to the conversation, didn’t she say I postponed the eviction of her family? I’ve only done that once in my career in real estate.

  “Carter Avenue,” I bark at my driver, throwing myself into the back seat. “The tenements.”

  As soon as the vehicle starts moving, I call the building manager and demand the details of Shelby’s family. Who are they? What ages? How many of them? What is the apartment number? And as I find out more about the Bishops, the lesson Shelby taught me becomes painfully obvious.

  I was going to throw these people out on the street without knowing a single thing about them. I could have made my future wife homeless and never batted an eyelash about it. These tenants of mine are people. People who make huge mistakes, sure, but if Shelby loves them, they can’t be all bad. As a fellow human being, I owe them a chance. I’ve owed a lot of people a chance they never got.

  My head falls back against the seat, eyes gritty and raw.

  And I start to pray.

  Please God, if you let me have her back, I won’t forget the lessons she taught me. I’ll be a better person. I’ll be more like her. Please.

  When I lift my head again, we are turning down Carter Avenue and I see the block through fresh eyes. It’s not just a low-rent neighborhood, it’s the place where Shelby lives. Is this where I will find her?

  Frantically, I search the street for some sign of her, hoping like hell she ran home instead of going somewhere I’ll never pinpoint. I need to hold her in my arms so badly, they’re shaking, an apology jammed in my throat.

  My driver pulls over and I waste no time getting out, marching straight into the building where Shelby lives and scaling the stairs to her apartment. Just knowing she walks these halls makes me miss her so much, I’m all but hunched over by the time I bang on the door.

  A woman answers, looking terrified.

  “Oh, Lord, is the eviction happening now? We weren’t notified—”

  “No.” I brace a hand on the doorjamb. “You’re not being evicted. You’re never paying me rent again. Just help me find your daughter.”

  The color drains from her face. “Is she lost? Last time I spoke to her, she was leaving for Paris. With you. She said…”

  “What?”

  Shelby’s mother only shakes her head, shame dancing across her features.

  “I know about the plan to trade leniency for her virginity. She told me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I regretted my decision as soon as she left, but it was too late. I should never have sent her to do that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” When tears fill her eyes, I soften my harsh tone and it’s all Shelby’s influence. She’s turned me human, hasn’t she? “But it brought her into my life,” I say gruffly, my heart squeezing. “I could never be angry about that. She’s my angel. She’s everything to me.”

  The woman nods, as if she knows exactly how special her daughter is. “When she called me to tell me about Paris, she told me the plan was off. That she’d given herself to you freely because…she loves you.”

  A pitiful sound leaves me and I nearly rip off the doorjamb. The plan was off. She’d taken her one bargaining tool and given it to me out of trust, affection, and I turned on her at the first opportunity. God, I don’t deserve her, do I? “I love her, too. I love her so much it hurts. But we argued and…and I just need your help bringing her back to me. Please. Where would she go?”

  Shelby’s mother pushes the door open wider and allows me inside, my misery multiplying when I see they’ve already packed boxes, probably just in case I threw them out on the streets. Pictures of Shelby at all stages of her life remain on the wall, however, shooting my heart up into my mouth.

  We walk into a room at the back of the three-bedroom apartment and the woman points to a small twin bed in the corner of the room, a shelf built into the headboard, packed with books. Simple and small. Unworthy of my angel. I’ve never been so determined to lay the world at her feet.

  “I doubt there is anything in here that will tell us where she’s gone,” says her mother. “There might be a clue in her diary, but it’s locked.”

  I look over to find the woman turning a small book over in her hand—and I take it. Hesitating only a second before bashing the lock against the headboard and cracking the diary wide open. “Once a devil, always a devil,” I mutter, letting the diary flip open to a page near the middle and…I see my name.

  Alistair wore the navy-blue suit today. A red tie. He read the reports from our building manager right there on the sidewalk this time. And he looked so angry, so irritable, but I only see the loneliness underneath. He needs a friend. Sometimes I even dream of being his friend. Is that silly? There must be more to the landlord than meets the eye or my heart wouldn’t pound every time he visits…

  Pulse racing, I flip to another page.

  I touched myself today and thought of Alistair. Everyone else went to the movies, but I stayed home. I touched my nipples and pretended it was him playing with me. I had to squeeze my thighs together to stop the ache and it wouldn’t go away for the longest time. Maybe it never goes away…

  When my cock starts to thicken, I clear my throat and move on. Reluctantly. But I’ll be reading that particular page again when Shelby’s mother isn’t present, that’s for goddamn sure. And…I’m in disbelief. Stunned. How long has my sweet girl been fascinated by me? Even…cared about me.

  The dates in this diary go back a year. More.

  My chest tightens to the point that I can barely draw a breath. The revelations in these pages are further pieces of proof that her heart was in the right place all along. The fact that I called her a liar and accused her of trying to use me…I deserve to die for saying that shit to someone so pure. I don’t deserve her back at all, this angel who loved me from afar while I went around hating the world.

  God, I miss her so much.

  With a weight pressing down on my lungs, I turn to the most recent entry.

  The landlord came today. Alistair. He’s evicting us. My mother has asked me to seduce him in exchange for our debt being forgiven. I’m supposed to give him my body, but I already have. He’s owned it for a long time. I might not understand the way he makes me feel in my breasts and inside my panties, but he’s the only one who causes those tingling sensations, every time I watch him from across the street�
��

  “Across the street?” I say urgently, lifting my head and looking out the window. “What’s across the street?”

  “Her favorite climbing tree…”

  I’m already running from the room, the apartment, hurtling down the stairs with her diary still clutched in my hand.

  “Shelby,” I shout, my voice as ravaged as my chest.

  Several people come out of the buildings to see the commotion, cowering in fear when they see it’s me, making an unscheduled visit. I swallow hard at their reaction, vowing to be better for Shelby. Vowing to be the man she believed me to be when I didn’t know I was capable of it.

  When I see her feet dangling from the tree, relief like I’ve never known courses through me. But it leaves me in a rush when her tear-stained face comes into view. It hollows me out where I stand.

  “Shelby. I’m so sorry.” My throat is closed up so tightly, I can barely get the words out. “Everything you taught me, I ruined in a minute. You made my world so beautiful and I turned it ugly again. Everything I said was wrong. I was wrong.”

  She says nothing, moisture spilling down her cheeks. Slaying me.

  I go down on my knees, vaguely aware of the gasps carrying up and down the block. “Give me another chance, angel.” And she does look like an ethereal being in that moment, with sunlight pouring through the branches and illuminating her from behind. “What do you want? Family dinners? Block parties? I’ll run for fucking mayor if it makes you believe in me again. Makes you believe how much I’ve changed for you. Just don’t leave me. God, please, don’t leave me now.”

  My head is bowed, so I don’t realize she’s climbed down from the tree until she’s kneeling in front of me, too. “Is that my diary?” she whispers.

  It takes all of my willpower not to wrap her in a bear hug, but I don’t know if she’s forgiven me or not. “Yes.”