Page 90 of Devoured

She opened her mouth in a gasp, but then rolled her eyes. “Figures.”

Once I found a nurse to get more water, I took a seat next to Iris. She shifted towards me, her cheek blue and black. Her onyx hair resting on her face, blending into the bruise. I wanted to move the hair out of her eyes, but I knew touching her might hurt.

“You missed New York,” she said quietly. “Your club. What happened to it?”

Something, orsomeone, had made me stay.

“There’s too much work to be done,” I offered. “I looked it up, and it’s not really the right aesthetic,” I lied. She smiled, remembering the same words she had said to me the night we made the bet. “The club hasn’t made money in a long, long time, and it shows.”

“I thought you liked a challenge?” she asked, a twinkle to her eyes.

“I do,” I said. I took her hand in mind. “But I’ve got enough of a challenge on my plate right now.”

She blushed, the color barely tinting her skin. “So what happens now?” she asked.

“I think there’s a detective who wants to talk to you. Should be fairly straightforward. You could do a rape kit if you want, or—”

“No, Roland. About us. What happens with us?”

I stared at her. I knew what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to pressure her into anything. I wanted it to be on her terms.

And right then, it was.

“I suppose it’s up to you,” I said. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe remodeling or building a custom house could be my next challenge. They’re smaller than night clubs, but more intricate.” I nodded in thought. “More personal.”

“You’re thinking of settling down?” She leaned forward. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No.” I leaned forward too, meeting her halfway. “I’m gauging what you want.”

She smiled, but then looked down at her lap, at the scratchy blanket wrapped around her thighs, the thin hospital gown on her chest.

“I have something to say,” she said, straightening. “You set up that abduction play?”

“Yes.”

“You know that made me think that Jake was messing with me. Like, one of your hired hands, or something.”

“Shit,” I mumbled. “My bad.”

“So I have a rule,” she crossed her arms in front of her, “Don’t do that kind of thing to me again. Not unless we talk about it. Negotiate. All of that.”

“I can do that.” I tilted my head. “But you kind of liked it, right?”

“Shut up,” she said, an undeniable grin on her face. “That’s not the point.”

A heaviness settled in my stomach. Iris’s face was still fierce and bright, but I hated that it wasn’t makeup darkening her eyes, but a bruise. I should’ve killed Jake myself, but one of my connections in the state penitentiary could work something out.

Still, there was another matter to bring up. “You know your red-haired friend?” I asked.

Iris thought for a moment. “Melissa?”

“Probably.” I hadn’t been in a position to ask for names. “Well, she and her boyfriend kidnapped me and threatened me to kill me. Saying you sent them.”

“No,” she gasped. “Damn it. I forgot all about that.”

“I figure we’re even, then.”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”