The Handsome Devil

Chapter 67 - Dread

Deya stood frozen on the spot, too terrified to turn around and face her mysterious companion. It was her way of convincing herself the situation is not real and that there's no reason for her heart to beat so fast. But oh, was she proven wrong once the familiar husky voice echoed.

"I thought I could smell alcohol when you kissed me yesterday"

Max

The girl still didn't make a move to turn around, and the room was filled with the sounds of his slow but confident footsteps.

"I just couldn't figure out how would you get your hands on any" He continued from a distance too short for her liking.

"Patrick swore he didn't give it to you.." Deya closed her eyes, incapable of preventing her whole body from trembling.

"So did the staff.." The faces of the Kelly and Rosalie filled the girl's mind, and her breath hitched as she imagined the devil shouting at the poor women.

I always bring bad luck upon others, don't I?

"But I guess this explains it" Max whispered into her ear bitterly, sending shivers down her spine. As much as she strained her mind, no amount of lying could possibly help her out of this situation. And that's why her lips remained sealed.

"Look at me" The man ordered firmly, but she just shook her head.

"Look. At. Me" The words were hissed through gritted teeth now, but it only forced the girl to press her eyelids tighter.

Before she knows it, a painful grip appeared on her right forearm and she felt her body being span around, the motion leaving her dizzy.

However, instead of another booming order, there was a suspicious silence, and so she half opened one eye to sneak a peak.

"What happened?" His brow furrowed in concern, and it wasn't until he reached up to touch her black eye that she realized what's going on.

"It's nothing. Just.. training" She mumbled, but the devil's enraged frown forced her to clarify. "I was distracted and jumped in the way of a punch. It wasn't Patrick's fault"

"Were you drunk?" Max inquired in emotionless tone, and the girl's eyes instantly refocused on the tips of her shoes, providing an answer in itself.

"Why you do this to yourself?" The words hang in the air for a while, the devil's eyes hiding behind a curtain of pity.

That is, until Deya raised her head again, putting her emotions on display.

"Why I do this to myself?" She repeated slowly, jerking her hand out of his hold.

"Seriously, Maximón?" Her lips spitted the name out as if it was poison, and her chocolate orbs narrowed into slits. "I've been through enough to not be shamed for having a drink or two"

To prove the point, she reached for the closest liquor on the bar, but before she could even think about opening it Max knocked it out of her hand and the bottle shattered into thousands of tiny pieces as it collided with the floor.

"We both know it wasn't a drink or two" He growled lowly, hand gripping the girl's fragile wrist. "I checked the order list, and we've been running out of absinth at a record rate in the past weeks. So I checked the CCTV."

Deya felt her cheeks getting flushed in shame under the man's judgemental gaze. Nonetheless, then the reality of who's standing in front of her dawned on her.

"You're such a hypocrite" She hissed with newly found rage while attempting to free her hand. "Like I can't hear you and the other Bulldogs getting wasted nearly every night"