The main common room is crowded with men playing pool, drinking beer, lounging on the couches and watching sports. But my eyes immediately find Todd sitting at a table in the corner, and my steps falter when I see who he’s with.
Demon.
Todd is seated across a small table from Demon. Between them is a spread of cards, and Demon is leaning back in his chair with the look of a man who has never once lost at anything and isn’t expecting today to be different. Todd has his cards held very close to his chest, and Demon is watching him with an amused expression. Nearby, Demon’s ever-present shadow, Finn or Wrath or whatever his name is, sits perched on the arm of a chair, whittling something with a small knife.
Finn always surprises me. Despite his sullen exterior and the memory of how terrifying he was during my kidnapping, I sense there’s a damaged kid underneath all that anger and bravado. I’ve caught glimpses of it in the way he watches everyone, in the way he flinches when someone raises their voice too quickly.
“There you are,” Todd says when he spots me, waving me over with the hand not holding cards. “Demon’s been teaching me poker. Well, not real poker. Some variant. He keeps changing the rules.”
“I haven’t changed a single rule,” Demon says without looking away from his own hand. “You’re just losing.”
Todd’s grin is unshaken. He’s developed a truly remarkable imperviousness to being mocked in the last four days.
I drift toward the table, leaning my hip against the edge, watching them play for a minute. Finally, Demon says, “The Toad here is a quick learner, but he has the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.”
“My name is Todd,” Todd corrects him, still smiling.
“Whatever you say, Toad,” Demon replies.
Todd doesn’t even seem bothered by the nickname. Instead, he just laughs and takes the cards Demon deals him.
“You do realize,” I finally say, looking directly at Todd, “that Demon was the one who kidnapped me, right? He’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place.”
Todd’s brows furrow slightly as he looks between Demon and me. “Well, yes, but—“
“Life’s too short to hold grudges, plant lady,” Demon interrupts, his golden-green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Naomi is the reason you’re in your current mess.”
“Plant lady,” Todd repeats, and then snorts with laughter. “That’s actually funny, you know, because you work with plants all day and you love to garden and…”
His laughter dies abruptly when he sees the expression on my face.
“Hilarious,” I say flatly.
Todd at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I just—he doesn’t seem all that bad? And you don’t seem very angry with him either, so I figured…” He trails off, then brightens. “He‘s really a fascinating guy, Kayla. He has so many interesting stories about places he’s been, things he’s seen.”
“I’m full of interesting stories,” Demon agrees, winking at me.
I roll my eyes, refusing to take the bait. “You’re full of something, all right.”
Demon just laughs, clearly enjoying my discomfort. This is exactly why I’ve been avoiding him since arriving at the clubhouse. It’s not that I’m afraid of him anymore, though perhaps I should be. It’s that I don‘t know how to feel about him. On the one hand, he kidnapped me, terrorized me, turnedmy entire life upside down. On the other hand, that kidnapping saved me from Naomi, who apparently would have killed me if she’d gotten the chance.
How do you reconcile those two things? How do you look at the man who both ruined your life and saved it?
“Have fun,” I tell them, turning to leave before either of them can see the confusion on my face. “Try not to lose all your money, Todd. Demon cheats.”
“Only when necessary, plant lady,” Demon calls after me. I can hear the smirk in his voice without having to turn around.
I wander back down the hallway, with no destination in mind. Part of me wants to find Roman, to see if he’s heard anything new about the situation with Naomi. But the self-preserving part of me knows that seeking him out is dangerous. Every time we’re together, the invisible thread that connects us pulls tighter, making it harder to remember all the reasons we can’t go back to what we were.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice Finn until he’s right beside me, appearing like a ghost in the dim hallway.
“Jesus!” I gasp, one hand flying to my chest. “Make some noise when you walk, would you?”
Finn doesn‘t apologize, but he does take a small step back, giving me space. He holds something in his hand, and I realize it’s the object he was whittling earlier. Now that I can see it properly, I realize it’s a small wooden carving. He thrusts it toward me, his face set in its usual scowl, but there’s something almost vulnerable in his eyes.
“Here,” he says gruffly.
I take it from him, turning it over in my palm. It’s… well, I think it’s supposed to be a cat? It has four legs, although one is much shorter than the others, a lumpy body, and what might generously be called a head with pointed ears. It’s possiblythe ugliest cat I’ve ever seen, carved with clearly inexperienced hands.