Page 49 of Broken By The Devil

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Yes I know how to ride. Tom forged the ownership paperwork for mine, so it was showing him as the owner, and sold it about two years ago. I haven’t been able to replace it,” she says, so casually with a hint of sadness. Not only has he taken her body but also a possession she loves. I’ll buy her a better one. She deserves everything.

“Well, you’re being my backpack today, certainly not the other way around,” I order. No way am I getting on the back.

“Oh, please…” she begs. Fuck. I can’t deny her. She flutters her eyelashes at me and sticks out her bottom lip. Pure manipulation—she knows what she’s doing to me.

“Another time…” I say and she pouts at me.

“You’re still not well, you shouldn’t be taking control. I promise, I will get on the back…one day,” I could say I’m just appeasing her, but I’d be lying. She can have whatever she wants.

I put my helmet on and take over the front whilst she moves to the back. It’s about twenty minutes to my apartment, going through the city. She takes in the scenes, the tall buildings, the people walking in the streets, the hot dog stands, and even the kids playing in the playground. It’s like she’s taking in new sights she’s never seen before, like she’s seeing for the very first time.

The highway opens up ahead, so I tap on her leg twice, letting her know to hold onto me. The stubborn viper refuses, so I tap her again. Still refusing. She is possibly the most stubborn woman I have come across, my mother included. She wants to play…fine. I speed up fast and slam on the brake making the bike jolt. Her helmet crashes onto the back of mine. She is forced to hold my waist to stop her from falling.

“I did tap you twice.” I chuckle.

“Asshole!” She curses, but giggles straight after. It will never be a sound I get tired of hearing.

I decide then. I don’t want to take her straight back to the apartment. It’ll be good for her to get some fresh air, and I know she likes the beach. She doesn’t know I live on the coastline. My balcony overlooks the ocean. I can’t wait to see her face.

I park up and take her helmet off her, trying to be careful of her hair. The grin on her face is one that’ll be ingrained in my memory forever. She’s happy. She looks like life itself, light and bright. Not shrouded in darkness.

We head to the ocean and take a seat on the sand side by side. The sun is just about to set, but still casting a glow on her silver strands. Her skin is fair, but glitters in the sun. She shuts her eyes, basking in the summer warmth. Each inhale and exhale full of relief. Like she’s been starved of oxygen. I notice a tear falling down her cheek, I reach over and wipe it from her face. My arm reaches over her legs in an instant, pulling her closer to me, her head leaning on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. I thought she’d be happy. Maybe I’ve got this wrong. Maybe she doesn’t like the beach at all. She sniffs and turns towards me smiling.

“I’m just happy.” She laughs. I chuckle lightly and pull her closer in an embrace. We stay there for at least an hour, taking in the sunset, not speaking. We don’t need to. Her expression turns sad, she’s not smiling anymore, and she starts to fidget with her hands.

“Will we ever be normal? Will we ever be able to walk along the beach together out in the open?” she asks. I can almost hear the defeat in her tone. I tilt her chin, so her gaze fixes on mine, my forehead pushed up against hers.

“I promise you, we will.” I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I will keep this one. Just like every future promise I make her.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I say and help her up from the sand. As much as I hate the stuff, I don’t mind being here—for her. I lead her past the bike and gesture for her to keep going. Her brows are furrowed together and she plants both hands on her hips. I start laughing, she looks like a spoiled child that’s just been told no.

“Just trust me,” I state and hold out my hand for her. She takes it with suspicion, and I lead her up the stairs to my apartment. I open the door for her and she ventures inside. She is entranced. Open plan kitchen on the right and living area with a couch and TV on the left. There’s a small flight of stairs leading to my bedroom. Her gaze is on the windows opening out to the balcony, overlooking the ocean.

Her mouth gapes open and she blinks multiple times, like she’s struggling to process that I live here.

“I mean, it’s okay,” I joke. I bought the place a few years back and did some work to it. I love it here. It’s open and peaceful. I know I can relax after being at work all day. Nobody has seen my home, apart from Cyrus. I take a sneaky photo of her. I want to remember this day. She wanders around the room, taking in everything. She hasn’t said a word since we came in. I don’t want to push her, so I start to make dinner. I throw some steaks on the grill, start on the green beans, potatoes and the peppercorn sauce for the steaks. She saunters over when she smells the meat. She must be starving, she hasn’t eaten anything in about two days. She watches every single movement I make, completely transfixed by my methods. I plate everything and sit us both down at the small table near the window. She still hasn’t said anything. I’m growing a bit concerned. Maybe this is too much for her.

“Well, how is it?” I ask. She must like it; she’s almost cleared the plate. At least I know she’s eaten something. It’s hard for me not to be concerned about her. Even though Doc said there’s nothing to worry about, I’m still not convinced. She still seems a bit dazed, like shes not here.

“It makes a nice change from my usual microwave meal.” She chuckles. I must look completely confused because she continues.

“I can’t cook.” She rolls her eyes at me and huffs. Of all the things she can do, she hates to admit she can’t cook? I laugh so much, I forget what it must look like.

“I was not expecting that. I thought you could do everything. You can fight, you can climb trees, you can walk into burning buildings without batting an eye, and you can sign. Believe me, not being able to cook makes you more human.” I chuckle.

“Well, thank you for cooking, nobody has ever cooked for me before, it was lovely,” she admits. I can’t believe she has been so neglected. It just makes me want to give her everything.

“How are you feeling?” I ask. She looks a bit pale and exhausted. I want to make sure she’s okay. I’ve never looked after anyone before. Never wanted to.

“I’m okay, just tired,” she admits.

“Okay, why don’t we watch a movie for a bit and chill?” I ask, and she nods immediately. She goes into the bathroom and comes out in shorts and the T-Shirt I gave her at the retreat. She really is mine. She lifts the collar and smells it. The smile spreading across my face must be so obvious.

As soon as I put the movie on and she snuggles into my chest, she’s asleep. She must need it. I haven’t told her about the meeting with her father. I don’t want to put more pressure on her. I haven’t told her about the plan to break into Tom’s penthouse either. If I can get the drives without involving her, less stress will be inflicted on her.

Once I know she’s in a deep sleep, I scoop her up in my arms and set her down on my bed, covering her with the blanket. She’s safe. I can see her. I can touch her. I lay down beside her and pull her into me. It normally takes me a while to drift off, but today, I have no trouble before sleep takes me.