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“Well, too damn bad,” she retorts. “Something has got you all twisted up, and you need to talk about it. So, the three of us are gonna go downstairs and dive into the bottle of Jack Daniels I’ve got in my cupboard, and you’re gonna fucking talk.”
With that, she spins on her heel and walks out of the room, not bothering to check if we’re following.
I slip off the mattress and glance at him over my shoulder. “You heard her,” I bite out. “Let’s go.”
Jez and I are on our second shots by the time Demon joins us in the living room.
“I hate you both,” he mutters, flopping down in the chair across from the couch.
“No, you don’t,” I say, confident that his feelings are the exact opposite of hate.
Jez pours each of us a tumbler of liquid, and Demon downs his in one gulp before holding his glass out for more. After she fills it, he leans back and stares past us at the wall.
“That fire didn’t take out all the right people,” he says, his tone hollow, his gaze vacant.
Confused, I look at Jez, and her lips are parted on a silent gasp. “What fire?” I ask.
“No,” Jez says, shaking her head. “No, we took out Father Brine and Deacon Block. We got them both.”
“Yeah, you gotthem,” Demon mutters. “But you missed Stewart Crane.”
“Uh, can someone enlighten me, please?” I interject. “I mean, I know Stewart Crane was one of Ted’s known associates, but how do you know him, Demon? And, I repeat, what fire?”
Demon doesn’t reply, so Jez looks at me and wrings her hands in her lap. It breaks my heart to see her so distraught.
She takes a deep breath and blurts, “Father Brine and Deacon Block were the men who…” Her voice trails off, and she glances at Demon, who jerks a nod. “They molested Malice. My brother and Grim found out, and the three of them set the church on fire with the two men trapped inside.”
“Fuck, wasn’t expecting that,” I mutter. “But that still doesn’t explain how Demon knows Stewart.” Jez’s eyes widen in shock. “What?”
“I was expecting you to run outta here after hearing that,” she admits.
“After the things we’ve done to people?” I arch a brow. “C’mon, what’s a little arson and murder among friends?”
My question does what I intend, and they both huff out short laughs. Then Demon’s vacant stare is back.
Over the next hour and a half, I listen as Demon shares horrific details of sexual abuse, among other things, and by the time he’s done, Jez is in tears, and I’m doing everything I can to suppress the rage burning through my veins.
“So, yeah, Stewart might not have been on anyone’s radar, but he was evil all the same,” Demon finishes, his voice cold.
“Why…” Jez swallows, trying to gain some composure. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Demon flinches. “What was I supposed to say? I never wanted you to know any of it.”
“And then I went and got overpowered by McCormick,” Jez mumbles.
That seems to be all it takes for Demon to snap out of the memories. He jumps to his feet, rounds the coffee table, and lifts Jez to reposition her on his lap.
“None of this is your fault, babe,” he tells her.
“But you wouldn’t hav?—”
“Stop,” I order, scooting down the sofa to sit closer to them. “He told you it wasn’t your fault, and he meant it.”
After a beat of silence, Demon smirks. “You didn’t correct me,” he says to her.
She lifts her head and looks at him. “About what?”
“I called you ‘babe’.”