Demons

Chapter 5

*JOSH'S POV*

Lake Birchville was a small town. But it felt ginormous running through it. I  had to tell the rest of the guys about the fallout that Zayn and I shared. They would be pretty pissed about this. Their plan was going so well, and I knew that I was in tons of shit.

Following the directions that were written on a ripped piece of newspaper wasn't an easy task. As I was running, I spotted an elderly woman struggling to bend down and pick up her pearl necklace. It was only gentlemanly to rush over and help her. Grabbing the band and putting lightly around the lady's neck, I sweetly accepted a piece of a butterscotch candy. How typical.

What the poor old grandmother had not realized, was that as I was picking up the pearl jewelry, I cleverly had singlehandedly pick-pocketed her of all her money. After four hours of running, getting lost, asking directions, getting lost again, and more running, I finally reached the motel.

But it was not just any motel, it was completely abandoned and run down, utterly creepy. Nevertheless, if they wanted to meet here, I had no say in the matter. My "co-workers" were all at least about five years older than me and would beat me up if Sylvia told them to.

Sylvia was the wife of the leader, Malcolm, as well as the most amazing woman in the universe. But she was about five years younger than Malcolm and had a thing with me. Actually, I had a thing for her. She was only two years older than me, and drop dead gorgeous.

I knocked four times to spell put his name, paused for a second and knocked another three times. J-O-S-H. 1-2-3. That was my code. Sylvia opened the door and smacked my arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" My other hand instinctively grabbed my arm.

"For not coming back with Zayn." Sylvia replied casually.

"Well, um we kind of had a fight, and he might just hate me right now." I muttered.

Fortunately, before Sylvia could slap me again, another guy, Brutus, walked in. His looks preceded his name, as he was tall - probably about 5'11", had dark skin but light eyes, and a tattoo of a scorpion on his well–sculpted bicep. I had always felt a little intimidated by him, as he was about seven years my elder, but he was one of my close friends. In reality, Brutus was my only friend, other than Zayn.

"Sylvia, Malcolm was just on the phone with me and he said that his business is going to take him the rest of the week to finish. So, he won't be back till Sunday."

"Why couldn't he just tell me himself?!" Sylvia spoke, now even more angered than she was with me. She and the man broke into a quarrel that quickly became heated. Finally, Sylvia snatched the man's phone and mumbled something about calling Malcolm again.

I took this little interruption to sneak away from Sylvia and up to my bedroom. Well, not exactly a bedroom, more like an empty storage space with a mattress in the middle.

"Geez, you would think with all the money we make, they might upgrade our living style," I groaned aloud. It wasn't like anyone could hear me, the walls were soundproof.

The room was painted a boring egg white color, it was about 10x10, and the floor was a cold concrete. I stumbled over to the hard, queen – sized mattress and just dropped onto it. As my tired body hit the mattress, a thick puff of dust emitted from the bed, soaring into the rest of the room and making me sneeze.

I was trying to get comfortable when I realized that a tight v–neck, skinny jeans, and a jacket wasn't the best outfit for sleeping on an already rough mattress. Groaning while standing back up, I slumped to his red, huge duffel bag and took out some sweatpants and a plain tee.

Quickly changing out of my jeans, I ripped off my shirt. As I was pulling my t-shirt over my head, I heard soft footsteps enter the room. I stopped, with the shirt barely over my hard chest and turned around.

"Hey, don't stop on my account." Sylvia smirked, slowly walking towards my.

"Ugh, what do you want?" I growled, pulling the v-neck shirt down to cover up my incredibly defined abs so forcefully that it almost ripped.

I was definitely not in the mood for her manipulative games and teasing trickery. Sylvia was most likely testing my loyalty to Malcolm, while taking advantage of my maybe obvious crush.

I watched her intently inch closer to me until we were face to face. It seemed as if she wasn't going to stop moving nearer to me, so I finally placed my strong hands on both of her shoulders, keeping Sylvia from advancing anymore.

"I just wanted to talk to you." Sylvie gently pushed my hands off of her shoulders and held my wrists to my sides, all the while remaining in eye contact with me. Sylvia wasn't that much shorter than me, for she was model when Malcolm first met her. As time passed on, Sylvia quit her modeling career for Malcolm and joined his business.

"Why? What's wrong?" I inevitably softened, my grimace relaxing. I was a real douche most times for the fun of it, but when it came to Sylvia, I would do anything. And Sylvia knew it.

She pulled my arm down, making us sit down on the dirty mattress. I followed her, at this point extremely confused. Does she actually like me? What is going on?  We looked straight into each other's eyes as Sylvia's welled up with tears.

"Malcolm was i–in a car accid–accident," Sylvia managed to squeak out in her now sobbing state. I was taken aback.

I had never seen Sylvia this vulnerable and neither did any of the other guys. Putting her hands on the mattress where I was sitting, I walked up to the door, slammed it, and locked it. On the dirty cold mattress, I sat down again and grabbed the beautiful woman into a tight yet awkward bear hug. She hesitated, then soothed into it.

"Is he okay? Do you want me to take you to him?" I asked after a minute, pulling away.

"No, I want you to kiss me." Her pink lips pursed seductively as her blue eyes sparkled, as if tempting and begging me to do it.

There was a millisecond of pause and caution on my part, before I realized that my soulmate was finally ready to choose me over her scumbag of a husband. As natural as holding a cup of water to drink it was to hold her face in my hand as her kiss would have quenched my thirst.

Therefore, without another irrelevant thought, I attacked her with my love.