Deviance

Chapter 7

"Good morning, Tiffany!" I say in a singsong voice as I walk into the staffroom at Pureza.
"Good morning, Auburn. You seem in an awfully good mood today." She smiles.
She isn't wrong. I am feeling good today. There isn't any particular reason, other than the fact that I got to go visit Ella last weekend! I always feel like life is a little more tolerable after I've spent time with her. Her innocence and childlike wonder tend to rub off on you in the best way possible.
I especially needed to unwind a little because I have been paranoid for the past few weeks. After I spent the night here in Pureza, something has been off. There is no other way to describe it, other than I feel like I'm being stalked. It's not just that I feel like someone is watching me – it's more primal than that. I am a gazelle, and a lion is toying with me before he snaps his powerful jaws shut and takes my life with one bite.
It started that evening after I got home from my cleaning shift. I felt someone's presence outside of my small apartment, but every time I would peep through my window no one was there. I would also occasionally break out in goosebumps at the club. I was used to the guests ogling the staff, so their roaming eyes weren't the cause for the chills running through my spine.
But for the most part, I have ignored it and at least I didn't feel watched while I was with Ella. It must all just be in my head.
"Yes! Yes, I am," I beam at the girl who I have quickly come to call my friend.
Kate was still my best friend, especially after she acted like my sleepover at Pureza never happened. But Tif and I had become close quickly.
Freddy had assigned her as my unofficial mentor. He usually pairs us together for our cleaning rounds, which I love.
Tiffany is an old soul with a heart of gold. She almost never raises her voice, and she makes her own tea blends and candles in her spare time. She has gifted me a few candles that are my signature scent – jasmine and honey – and they smell amazing. She has become my go to candle maker.
It turns out that she is an only child, like Kate, and that her parents live just outside of the city. She opened up to me about almost everything I asked her. The only thing that made her clam up, was when I brought up the topic of Freddy. She would always dodge the question and change the subject, which made me even more suspicious of him.
"That is good to hear, because you can use all of that joyful energy when you help me clean and get the penthouse ready. One of our investors has been staying there for weeks now and hasn't let anyone clean it. Now all out of the blue he has specifically requested me and you to clean it."
She takes our cleaning trolley and pushes it towards the elevator with me hot on her heels. "Do you know which investor it is?" I hesitantly ask.
Suddenly, my throat feels like sandpaper and my heart is beating like a jackhammer. It can't be him, right?
"I don't know his name, but then again, I don't know most of their names. I've seen him around a few times though. He's quite attractive and mostly keeps to himself. He's actually one of the more decent men who come here, except when it comes to his business. Apparently, he can be quite ruthless."
I follow her into the elevator, biting my bottom lip to try and calm myself down. I am just overreacting. There is no way that she is talking about the man that I have been avoiding like the plague. I mean, there is no way that he would request me to clean his room – not after what happened last time. And I hadn't really seen him here since that night. I caught a few glimpses of him in the bar area a few times, but then I would make myself scarce.
I took a calming breath. Chances are that it's not him. I have nothing to worry about.
The elevator reaches the top floor, and the doors glide open. We step out and Tiffany gently knocks on the door.
Only a few seconds go by and then the doors open. I am scared to look at the face of the man in front of us. My gut tells me that it is exactly who I was hoping it wouldn't be.
I finally will myself to look up at the man and once my eyes meet his, a loud gasp leaves my mouth.
My hand reaches out of its own volition and cups his cheek carefully.
"Are you okay?"
My eyes search his beaten face. Bruises and cuts cover the dark canvas that I have been avoiding. What the hell happened to him?
At first there is confusion swimming in his midnight orbs, but then he gives me a crooked smile.
"It's nice to see that you care, baby. Perhaps you aren't as indifferent towards me as you would like me to believe... And yes, I am okay. I just need some time to recover. Give it a day and I'll be back to being the handsome devil you have come to know and love."
I rip my hand away from him and throw a glare his way.
"I don't love or really know you. And by the way, you should probably clean those cuts. They look like they are going to get infected, and I don't want to come into the apartment in a few days and find your lifeless body. Alive you already haunt my nightmares."
He lets out an amused chuckle.
"I missed this. I forgot how entertaining you can be."
Before I could reply with some witty remark, Tiffany asks, "Do you two know each other?"
"No."
"Yes," we both reply at the same time.
I had honestly forgotten that she was here with us.
"Well, whether you two know each other or not, can we please come in and clean up? We still have 5 rooms to hit after this one." Tiffany says sweetly.
"Of course. Please come in."
Tiras steps to the side and holds open the door for us to enter. He can fake being a gentleman all he wants, but no number of doors that he opens for me would ever convince me that he is one.
"I will be in the living room, out of your way, ladies. Please do let me know if you need anything from me."
"I'll never need anything from you," I whisper under my breath, but by the way his mouth pulls up into a smirk, making his dimple pop, I could have sworn he had heard me.
Tiffany and I start cleaning in the kitchen. She attempted to ask about Tiras and I – not that there was a him and I to begin with – but I immediately shut her down. I told her that there wasn't a story there and if I had time travel powers that would be the truth.
As I clean, my mind wonders to thoughts of how he got so beaten up. It looks like a gang got ahold of him. Tif did say that he was known to be ruthless. Was he part of a gang or the mafia? It would explain the ridiculous amount of money that he throws around like it is nothing.
After the kitchen is spotless, Tiffany moves to clean the one bedroom and I the other. Of course, I end up going to the bedroom where Tiras sleeps.
I swear his scent filled my nose as soon as I stepped foot in here. Maybe I'll ask Tif to make a sage and pepper scented candle for me. I am starting to like the scent of it, even though I know I shouldn't.
I put clean sheets on the bed and vacuum the carpet. When I am sure that every surface in the room is clear of dust, I head to the bathroom. My eyes turn into the size of saucers when I see the bloody mess waiting for me on the floor, in the sink and in the shower. What the hell happened here? Is this his blood?
Before I can catch myself, I rush to the living room to check if he hasn't keeled over from the bloodloss. How the hell was he still standing?
"How are you not dead?!" I practically scream at him as I rush to his side.
It is clear that his face isn't the worst of his injuries. I pull up his shirt to reveal multiple stab wounds!
"Oh my God!" I gasp as I inspect the open cavities still leaking some scarlet liquid. My hand reaches out to touch his stomach next to one of the wounds. He flinches a little, but it seems to be more from the fact that I was touching him than the fact that I had caused him pain.
"Calm down, my little deviant. It is not as bad as it looks. It will be fine in a few hours, trust me." He places his hand on top of mine as a comforting gesture.
"The only way that you'll be fine within a few hours is if your fairy godmother came and healed you. This is serious, Tiras. You need to go to the hospital or at the very least get Dr Michelle to come and help."
I stare up at him with pleading eyes. Yes, I thought he is an asshole, but even assholes don't deserve to die.
I see in his eyes that he isn't going to budge, so I give him another option that will at least give me some semblance of peace of mind.
"At least let me clean the wounds. That way I can ease my conscience when you inevitably end up dying by saying I did help."
"Okay, if it will make you feel better, you can clean the wounds," his tone is one of indulgence, like he is doing me a favour by letting me possibly save his life. What a prick!
He gets off the couch and leads the way to his gruesome bathroom. It really looks like someone was murdered in here.
He takes a seat on the edge of the bathtub while I rummage around the bathroom cabinets for a first aid kit. I smile triumphantly when I find one on the bottom shelf.
"This is going to burn a little bit," I warn as I dab some clinical alcohol onto a cotton ball. I don't bother putting on gloves. His and my bodily fluids are very well acquainted at this point.
"I'm used to hell, baby. I actually enjoy the burn."
I ignore his masochistic comment and methodically start cleaning his wounds one by one. In total he has five stab wounds and a few scratches here and there. Who the hell did he fight? I wish I can see the other guy, because something gives me the idea that Tiras never loses.
"You know, you are pretty good at this, my little deviant." He smiles down at me, which warms my heart a little. I have seen his flirty and smart ass side enough times by now that I was used to it. But his smile in this moment held something else... warmth... admiration maybe?
"I took some first aid classes in high school. And didn't I tell you to stop calling me that?" I feign annoyance, but secretly I have grown fond of his little nicknames. The narcissistic side of me actually likes the fact that I am so far the only one he has nicknames for that I know of. It makes me feel special, not that I would ever admit that to him.
He doesn't reply to me, his face just stretches into that smug smile. Gosh, I don't know what I would give to be able to slap it off his face!
I move to clean the wounds on his face once I am satisfied that the ones on his body are clean. I dab at the cut above his eye. I am standing between his legs in order to do my job properly. He places one hand on my hip to stabilise himself of the edge of the tub. It feels like his hand is scorching the skin that it touches.
I move from his eye to the gash across his bottom lip. I run my finger over it, remembering how good it felt when those lush lips were on mine.
In that moment my eyes flicker to his. We lock gazes. Suddenly, I am very aware of the heat his thighs are radiating on either side of mine.
"Do that again?" His voice is low and pleading.
Without breaking eye contact, I glide my thumb over his busted lip again, earning a growl from deep within his throat.
I can feel the wetness growing in my panties. He has me trapped in the exact same spell he did the night we first met.
He pulls me closer to him so that we are chest to chest. My hands rest on his broad shoulders. We close the distance between our lips, until I can feel his warm breath on my face.
I know that I shouldn't be allowing this, but I just can't stop. I close my eyes and lean in.
A second before our lips crash together, the sound of someone clearing their throat breaks the spell and pulls me back to reality. I pull away from him and whip my head to the door to find a blushing Tiffany gaping at us.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but the rest of the room is clean... I just wanted to let you know that I am moving to room 20 while you finish up in here."
"I am finished actually." I blurt out. He is the one who bled all over everything, so he can clean it up himself.
I can't spend another second in his presence. It is clear that I lose my mind every time we are near each other. I can't believe that I almost kissed him – again!
I grab Tiffany's hand and pull her out of the bathroom with me. I don't stop until we reach the cleaning cart in the living room. I grab that as well and don't stop until we reach the elevator.
We spend the rest of our shift cleaning the other rooms on our to-do list. Tiffany doesn't bring up the almost kiss that she walked in on, which I am eternally grateful for.
No matter how hard I concentrate on polishing the marble floors until they shine, I can't stop thinking about him. I am worried about him – like actual concern for his wellbeing. I am pretty sure he is going to God's meet and greet with all of the blood he has lost, but at least it wouldn't be because of sepsis.
That made me feel a little better.

A/N

Hello, my little deviants. Things got a little hot there for a moment... I hope you enjoyed it. Do not forget to vote and comment. I can't wait for the next chapter...

Love

I. Nobody