Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

97. A Line in the Sand

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CONTENT WARNING:

This chapter contains brief discussions of sexual trauma that may be disturbing or troubling for some readers. Please proceed with caution.

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"Wait, are you serious?"

I nodded emphatically. "Yeah, and when I called HR to tell them I wasn't coming into work because hello — they told me I needed to take a sick day."

"What the fuck?" Angel sneered. "Have they never heard of the fuckin' Extermination before?"

"They were saying that it should've been a non-issue because the Exorcists don't typically travel outside the Pentagram during Exterminations," I explained, leaning back on the sofa and crossing my arms. "But like, you should've seen this coming when you hired a sinner, people."

"That's so fuckin' dumb."

"You're telling me," I remarked. "By the way, Angel, why are you wearing your comforter like a cloak?"

Angel shrugged. "Charlie wanted me to cover up."

I raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't have any other clothes you could've put on?"

He mirrored my expression and countered, "(Y/N), seriously, have you seen what I wear?"

"Eh, true."

"Here ya' go." Husk circled around the sofa to hand me a mug (that was definitely Niffty's) of fresh hot chocolate.

I flashed him a grateful smile and took the mug, wrapping my cold fingers around the warm ceramic. "Thanks, Husk."

He smiled back for a second before taking a seat beside me. "How're ya' feeling?"

I looked at him for a moment, taking in his features, and I pursed my lips and fixed my eyes back on the hot drink in my hands. "I'm okay," I answered quietly, then nodded and added, mostly to myself, "Yeah. I'm okay."

Husk gave my thigh a comforting pat. "Good," he said softly, stretching his arm across the back of the couch behind us.

Alastor returned to the sofa set with his own mug and sat down in the armchair beside us. "Would you be interested in staying for dinner, my dear? I plan on making Andouille jambalaya tonight."

I grinned, my mouth already watering at just the thought of his cooking. "You make a compelling argument, Al," I replied. "I think I might take you up on that offer — I'd just need to let Striker know, though."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want him charging in here again yellin' at anybody who gets within twenty feet o' ya'," Angel quipped, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

I inhaled sharply through my teeth. "Yikes," I hissed in embarrassment. "Sorry, guys. Striker is . . . He's just been kind of super protective lately."

"Yeah, we noticed," deadpanned Husk.

Alastor eyed the three of us as he took a long sip of his black coffee, slurping his drink a little too loudly to fill the awkward silence that followed.

"He didn't actually attack anybody, though, right?" I said.

"Nah, but he sure did a hell of a lot of rattling," said Husk. "I didn't even know imps' tails could do that."

The double doors of the conference room creaked open, and out strode the trio of angels, who looked down at us with such a degree of contempt and derision that it sent a chill down my spine. They walked down the hallway back to the front lobby, and I turned my head to see Charlie standing in the open doorway.