The Demon and His Plaything

8| Lost

Godricks fury was pulsing around him. Her lack of response had incensed him. He didn't even know what words he had spewed at her for abandoning him. All he knew was that he was at the Black Diamond high on coke and kicking it with Zara.

Godrick had spent the day trying to not think about his pet. She'd been vague about her plans tonight, so he'd not pushed it, but had noticed her avoidance. But when she didn't respond, he'd at first thought the worst. Too amped up to be at home, he'd come to the club–imbibed a little too much and started to become paranoid that she was ignoring him, turning his worry into anger.

His temper, while slow to bring about, was ferocious when it started. The drugs very rarely helped.

Zara had just been there as usual, gluing herself to his side as soon as he arrived. They had hooked up when he first came to town, though not what the other actually wanted. But she was wild and free and sometimes it felt good to be wanted. And now she wanted to go back to his place. Ha. She wanted to come to his home!

He grabbed her face and kissed her on impulse, telling himself his little toy didn't even want him anymore. Zara wanted to kiss him and be held. She wanted to come to his place, being quite aggressive in the suggestion. She squealed into his mouth, reaching her hand down to grab his crotch. He snaked away from her, feeling no building desire whatsoever, "Slow down kitten."

She purred at him and tried to sidle up to him again.

"I'll just be a minute." He untangled himself from her and headed to the bathroom. Immediate regret burned an acid ball in his stomach. Seeing that one of the offices was empty, he ducked inside.

Shutting the door, he sighed.

Steadying his drug induced shaking hands, he took a seat before checking his phone. There was finally a message back.

His thumping heart leapt.

DL: I'm so sorry. I belong to you, I didn't mean to make you think otherwise. Please, sir. Forgive me.

Godrick: Where are you?

DL: At a dance.

His thumb typed the word in an instant, hitting send.

Godrick: Picture.

Seconds later a photo of her in a toilet cubicle came through. She had the same red dress on. The skirt was bunched up high on her thighs, showing she had suspenders on.

She'd cropped her face out.

He chewed on his lip in thought.

Godrick: Show me the uncropped image.

DL: Best not, sir.

He brought his fist down on the arm of the chair. What was he even doing? Feeling a sudden and intense need to go home, he got up and headed back to the main bar to the exit. His steps faltered as he remembered Zara was waiting for him. He didn't want her. He just wanted something to distract him. Something to stop him feeling so crazy. He turned around and went for the back door.

"You guys are fucking crazy, man." Hushed words exchanged at the far end of the alley.

"I'm telling you, we work with this pack and we're set. You know wolves always have serious bank."

Godrick hurried in the opposite direction, starting to jog once he could see his apartment building. He was breathing heavily by the time he got inside. He flopped on his couch, wrestling to get his jacket off and phone out at the same time. She'd messaged again.