Sleeping With The Devil

Chapter Eight

Farrah Hellfire pushed open the door to her apartment, the familiar creak of the hinges welcoming her home. The day had been long, the hours at the bookstore passing in a blur of customers, paperbacks, and the comforting scent of old pages. She had always found solace in the quiet corners of the shop, where she could lose herself in stories far removed from the reality she tried so hard to avoid.
But tonight, something felt different. There was a heaviness in the air, an unsettling tension that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she slipped off her coat and hung it on the hook by the door. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet, the usual comforting hum of city life outside muted, as if the world was holding its breath.Farrah set down her bag and moved into the small living room, her mind still lingering on the book she had been reading during her lunch break—an old favourite, a fantasy novel about brave heroes and distant lands. It was a story she had read countless times, each turn of the page a retreat into a world where the lines between good and evil were clear, and the monsters were not the people she knew in real life.She flicked on the lamp beside the couch, the soft glow illuminating the space that she had carefully crafted into her sanctuary. The walls were lined with shelves of books, their spines a kaleidoscope of colours and genres. A worn armchair sat in the corner, draped with a knitted blanket, and a steaming cup of tea waited on the small table beside it, the steam curling into the air like a ghost.It was a scene of peace, of tranquillity. But it was a fragile peace, one that she knew could be shattered at any moment by the harsh realities that lurked just beyond her door.Farrah picked up the remote and clicked on the television, intending to find something light and mindless to watch while she unwound from the day. But as the screen flickered to life, her hand froze, the remote slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor.The news was on, the images on the screen arresting in their brutality. Smoke billowed into the night sky, flames licking at the edges of buildings reduced to charred skeletons. The camera panned across a scene of devastation—bodies covered with sheets, the distant wail of sirens, and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles reflecting off pools of blood on the pavement.Boyle Heights. The words flashed on the screen, the news anchor's voice solemn as he recounted the details of what was being called one of the most violent nights in the city's recent history. A turf war, the reporter speculated, between rival gangs, with the Irish Mob at the centre of the conflict.Farrah's heart pounded in her chest, a sickening feeling twisting in her stomach as she watched the carnage unfold on the screen. She knew this world—had grown up in it, had seen its horrors up close. But seeing it laid bare like this, broadcast for the entire city to see, brought it all crashing back.The flames, the blood, the bodies—they were all too familiar.She stumbled back, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she tried to process what she was seeing. The remote lay forgotten on the floor as she pressed a hand to her mouth, a wave of nausea rising within her.This wasn't just some distant tragedy, some story on the news. This was her world, the world she had tried so hard to escape, to leave behind. But it was a world that refused to let her go, a world that had followed her into her quiet, peaceful life and was now clawing at the edges of her sanity.Farrah sank onto the couch, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at the screen, unable to tear her gaze away from the devastation. The Irish Mob—she knew what that meant. She knew what that meant.Archer.The thought of him hit her like a physical blow, stealing the breath from her lungs. She hadn't spoken to him since he had shown up at her door, warning her about the danger that lurked just out of sight. She had tried to put it out of her mind, to convince herself that she could continue living as if she were separate from that world as if it wouldn't touch her. But now, it was clear that was a lie.Archer was out there, somewhere in the middle of this madness. He was a part of it—leading it, even. The nameless terror that gripped her heart tightened its hold, the fear that something had happened to him, that he might be one of the bodies lying in the street, overwhelming her.The camera zoomed in on the flames, the smoke curling into the night sky like a shroud. The fire was consuming everything in its path, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Just like the life she had tried to build for herself.Farrah's mind raced, memories flooding back in a rush of images and sounds that she had tried so hard to bury. The nights she had spent hiding in her room as her father, Dysyn Hellfire, conducted business in their home, the hushed conversations that she wasn't supposed to hear. The men who came and went, all of them dangerous, all of them connected to a world she had never wanted to be a part of.And Archer—always Archer. He had been there through it all, her constant companion, her protector. The boy who had read her stories when the real world was too frightening to face. The boy who had grown into a man she barely recognized, a man who had embraced the darkness she had always feared.She couldn't just sit here, watching the world burn around her. She had to do something—anything. But what could she do? She was just Farrah, the quiet girl who worked in a bookstore and tried to live as if the world outside her apartment didn't exist. She wasn't like them. She wasn't like him.But she was. She had been born into this world, whether she wanted it or not. And no matter how hard she tried to deny it, it was a part of her, woven into her very being.Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, her fingers fumbling over the screen as she tried to dial Archer's number. It rang, once, twice, and three times before going to voicemail. The sound of his voice—calm, steady, unyielding—sent a shiver down her spine. She hung up without leaving a message, her heart pounding in her chest.What if he didn't answer because he couldn't? What if he was lying somewhere in that blood-soaked street, the life bleeding out of him while she sat here, helpless and afraid?She couldn't stand it. She couldn't just sit here and do nothing.Farrah jumped to her feet, pacing the small living room as she tried to think, to figure out what to do. She couldn't go out there, couldn't go looking for him—she didn't even know where to start. But she couldn't just stay here, either, trapped in this apartment with nothing but the news and her fear to keep her company.Her mind flashed to her father—Dysyn Hellfire, the man who had raised her in the heart of the Russian Mafia, who had tried to protect her from the darkness even as he revelled in it. He would know what to do. He would know where Archer was, and what was happening out there. But going to him meant stepping back into that world, into the life she had fought so hard to leave behind.Farrah hesitated, her hand hovering over her phone. Could she do it? Could she go back to that life, even if it was just for a moment? The thought made her stomach churn, the fear and anxiety gnawing at her insides like a beast with sharp teeth.But this wasn't just about her. This was about Archer, about the man who had always been there for her, who had risked everything to protect her, even when she didn't want him to. She couldn't let her fear stop her from doing what needed to be done. Not this time.With a deep breath, Farrah dialled her father's number. It rang twice before he answered, his voice as smooth and controlled as ever, even in the face of chaos."Farrah," he said, and she could hear the surprise in his voice. It had been months since they had spoken, months since she had distanced herself from him and everything he represented."Dad," she replied, her voice trembling despite her efforts to keep it steady. "I need your help."There was a pause on the other end of the line, and she could almost picture him, sitting in his study, a glass of vodka in hand, his mind already calculating the situation."What's wrong?" Dysyn asked, his voice softening slightly, the way it always did when it came to her."It's Archer," Farrah said, the words spilling out of her before she could stop them. "I saw the news, the fires, the fighting—I need to know if he's okay. I can't reach him, and I don't know what to do."Dysyn was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was tinged with something she couldn't quite place—concern, maybe, or something deeper."Stay where you are," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll find out what's going on. I'll take care of it.""But—" Farrah started to protest, but he cut her off."Farrah," he said, his voice firm. "Trust me. I'll handle this."She swallowed hard, nodding even though he couldn't see her. "Okay. Just... please, let me know. I need to know he's okay.""I will," Dysyn promised, and there was something in his voice that made her believe him. "Stay safe, my girl. I'll call you soon."The line went dead, and Farrah lowered the phone, her hands still trembling. She had done it—she had reached out to her father and had asked for his help. And now all she could do was wait, trapped in this limbo between fear and hope.She sank back onto the couch, her eyes glued to the television screen as the news continued to play, the images of destruction and death relentless in their brutality. The anchor droned on, speculating about the cause of the violence, about the possible retaliation that could follow. But none of it mattered to Farrah—all she cared about was Archer, and whether he was alive or dead.The minutes stretched into hours, each one a torture as she waited for her father's call. The apartment felt smaller, more suffocating with each passing second, the walls closing in on her as her mind raced with worst-case scenarios.What if something had happened to him? What if he was lying somewhere, hurt or worse, and she would never know? What if the last thing she had said to him was a half-hearted goodbye, a brush-off as she tried to distance herself from the world he inhabited?The thought was unbearable.Farrah buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her emotions. She felt so small, so helpless—trapped in a world that she had never truly escaped, no matter how hard she had tried. The violence, the bloodshed, the fear—it was all still there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to drag her back under.And now, it had.Her phone rang, the sound shattering the silence like a gunshot. Farrah jumped, her heart racing as she fumbled to answer it, her breath catching in her throat when she saw her father's name on the screen."Dad?" she asked, her voice trembling."He's okay," Dysyn said, and the relief that flooded through her was so intense that it left her dizzy."Are you sure?" she asked, needing to hear it again, needing to believe it."I'm sure," Dysyn replied, his voice steady. "Archer's alive. He's hurt, but he'll be fine. He's strong, Farrah—stronger than you know."Farrah closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she let out a shaky breath. "Thank you," she whispered, the words barely audible."Take care of yourself, my girl," Dysyn said, his voice softening again. "And remember—you're stronger than you think, too."Farrah nodded, even though he couldn't see her, the weight of his words sinking in. She didn't feel strong—she felt like she was falling apart. But maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her that was stronger than she realized. A part of her that could face this world, no matter how dark or dangerous it was.The call ended, and Farrah sat there for a long time, the tears still streaming down her face as she tried to process everything. Archer was alive—he was hurt, but he was alive. And that was enough for now.But as she looked at the screen, at the flames and the blood and the bodies, she knew that this wasn't over. The world she had tried so hard to escape was pulling her back in, and there was no turning away from it this time.Farrah wiped her eyes, her resolve hardening as she stood up, her mind made up. She wasn't going to run anymore. She wasn't going to hide. If Archer could face this world, if he could survive it, then so could she.She wasn't just Farrah, the quiet girl who worked in a bookstore. She was Farrah Hellfire, daughter of Dysyn Hellfire, and she was stronger than she had ever given herself credit for.And she was going to fight for the people she loved, no matter what it took.The world outside was burning, but Farrah wasn't going to let it consume her. Not this time.