Something Wicked 🏳️‍🌈 (bxb)

11: Keeping him warm

The shadows cast on the angel's face obscured his beauty from my eyes, but his gentle voice bewitched me all the same. The Demon had warned that I'd be tested by the enemy, but I'd never expected my rivals to send angels to beguile me before delivering the killing blow.

Injured and desperate, a litany of treacherous thoughts filled my mind. I was tempted to run before the angel carried away the rage, the power, the will that the Demon had instilled in me. I was tempted to fall at the angel's feet, to beg him to carry me in his arms to whatever fate he deemed me worthy of.

But the Red Demon never ran. The Red Demon never fell at anyone's feet. The Red Demon would resist every enemy. Demon's rage became my fist.

I rained down blows, my arms trembling with exhaustion, but the angel returned time after time. A sharp pain shot along my arm, making me scream a plea to the Demon for strength. The angel had struck. My arm burned like the sun-scorched sands of the Rub' al Khali, blood and fear pouring fast out of the wound.

But the Red Demon never ran. The angel would die, and his home razed to the ground for his insult. The Demon's fury filled my heart and carried me forward.

Barely any blood left in my body, I scrambled for the angel's weapon and struck at his heart with all my might. Limp in my arms, his blood soaking into my clothes, the angel didn't resist when my fingers tightened around his slender neck. Curiosity overcame me, and I braved a glance at the angel's face, but his beauty was again hidden from me as my eyes darkened with unconsciousness.

I thanked the Demon for sending me into a faint. Whether he was my enemy or not, I didn't want to watch myself kill an angel.

"Jay."

One of my sticky eyes managed to pull itself open.

"Jay?"

I wasn't in Sylvia's lilac powder-puff apartment room. I was in my old Vogel trailer's bedroom. The bed was lumpy and threadbare. The floor was covered with beer bottles and detritus. Robby was standing in the doorway with a face like a pittie licking piss off a cactus.

I grabbed at my head. Piece of shit useless pills. I'd had another blackout. "What do you want, Robby?"

"Don't you fucking dare puke on my bed."

I pressed my palms into my eyes and tried to shake reality away. Maybe I could force myself back to sleep. "Not gonna puke. What happened?"

"So, those two women were all over you, angling so hard for a three-way. Then you stood up and burst into tears and started rolling around on the floor like a fucking lunatic, knocking over drinks and shit. Then I had to drag your psycho ass all the way here before Security beat the shit outta us both."

OK, so not the worst blackout in the world. At least I hadn't killed anyone.

I pulled the pillow over my face in a pitiful attempt to shut out my entire fucking life. "I'm too old for three-ways."

"Easy for you to say. And you owe me a blowjob."

I lifted the pillow an inch. "Why?"

"I was so close to hooking up with Gina! And you were so close to hooking up with...that Asian dude with the cheekbones and torn sweater. But of course, neither of us got laid because you had one of your fucking blackouts." He folded his arms in indignation. "Sucking my dick is the least you could do to rectify shit."

I pushed the pillow home again. "Not horny right now, acho."

Robby collapsed next to me. The bed gave a death-groan as he landed, like he'd broken the last spring in its sad sweaty mattress. He whipped the pillow off my face and launched it across the room, where it crashed-landed onto a pizza box. "So, who was he?"