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Chapter 32

"What happened?" Red asked the moment she burst through the bedroom door. I watched her scan the surroundings as she continued to rush towards me.

My throat swelled, and a fresh wave of pain hit my chest. "I'm an idiot," I rasped. "Brady used his magic to make me," I paused, "want him."

Red's brows furrowed. "He needed magic?" Her hand hit her chin, and her eyes drifted past me in thought. "You must have the willpower of a saint."

I gave her a flat look. "Yes. He needed magic. He used it to convince me that we were soulmates, and like an idiot, I believed him. If it wasn't for Owen–"

"Who, speaking of, is also very fucking hot. And his friend. He's hot too. Didn't talk much but he looks like a spanker." Her smile widened. "Mommy likes."

"Your getting away from the point, Red." I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't be mad. This was what I needed. I needed to get away from the point, and if anyone could bring distraction, it was Red. "He said I was his soulmate, and I believed him."

"How do you know he's lying? That's what happened in the sexy demon book. Trust me, if I had that big magical mother fucker tell me I was his soulmate, I wouldn't give a shit if he was lying. Lie to me baby. I don't care. Lie all you freaking want."

I tried to be serious, but it was hard with her. Before I knew it, my lips began to curve. Red was being dead serious, and the fact only made it more entertaining. "Thanks, Red."

She tilted her head. "You're welcome. Now, this is a pretty nice place, but why do I feel like I've joined a cult? There's a fence outside that's at least twenty feet tall, and it took me a gallon of gas just to get up the driveway."

"Owen and Doogal–"

"Doogal? What kind of a fucking name is that?"

I ignored her comment. "They know a lot about Jinn, and they said it's safe here."

"I'm calling him Doo Doo."

"Red."

She smiled sheepishly. "Alright. I'm sorry. Carry on."

I took a deep breath in through my nose. "Brady texted me."

"Was it nudes?"

"No."

"Damn! Alright. What did it say?"

"He said he's coming here, and I didn't tell Owen about it. I don't know why. Part of me wants everything he said to be real, but from what Doogal said, that's probably his magic still affecting my judgement." My voice grew soft, the emotions once again bubbling up to the surface. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Red grew more serious at the pain in my voice. She scooted closer, throwing her arm over my shoulder. "Are you sure Owen is telling the truth?" she asked softly. "How do you know?"

"I contacted him. He's been helping me. He'd left to go get his friend. No matter how much I want to, I know he's telling the truth. He has no reason not to."

"Then it hurts because your heart is broken." Red's voice took on a new quality. Something I'd never thought I'd associate with her. In that moment, Red sounded wise beyond her years. "People suck. All they do is hurt each other."

I leaned back to look at her face. I noticed the moisture building in her eyes, but no sooner did it appear, she blinked it away. "But, that's why you have to wait and find the right one."

I nodded my head, then laid it back down against her shoulder. "I'm really happy I met you, Red."

She patted my hair like a puppy. "You too. I never thought I'd meet anyone weirder than me. It's a huge confidence boost. Plus, you're like a bug zapper for hot men."

I smiled, despite the tinge of regret her words brought me.

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After what felt like hours of talking, Red and I finally decided to venture out of the bedroom and find out more about what I was dealing with.

We found Owen and Doogal sitting together in the living room, talking seriously in hushed tones. The moment they caught view of us coming down the stairs, they're conversation stopped.

"Hi," Owen greeted with a soft smile. "I'm glad you girls came down. Are you hungry?"

"We'd like extra strong drinks," Red proclaimed like royalty.

"None for–"

Red elbowed me. "Don't listen to her. She needs the strongest of them all. My girl is dealing with some thangs right now."

Owen grinned at Red, then over to me. "I'll see what we have."

Doogal sat solemnly studying us, his expression as serious as ever. He motioned a hand towards the open chairs and nodded in invitation.

Red ignored the empty seats and took the space right beside him on the couch, while I chose one of the tall leather back seats in front of them.

I watched her lean close to him, undeterred by his still deadpan expression, then held my breath as she shot me a wink. "So, Doogal," she began, dragging out the name and smiling at my warning look. "What do you do?"

His eyes cut over to her, and the ghost of a smile twitched his lips. "I do lots of things." He looked back over at me, then in a flurry of motion, his hands moved through the air and produced a long stemmed rose.

Red's eyes widened, and her mouth opened wide. "Do it again!"

This time he did smile, and the expression helped to soften the intimidating presence he usually put off. He did it again, producing another, then in a move like a true gentleman, he handed one to each of us.

Red practically swooned. "I love you," she said.

I offered a soft smile of my own, then a larger one as I watched Red.

Owen walked back into the room, holding a tray with a glass bottle full of amber liquid and four rock glasses. "I found some scotch I'd been saving." He placed it onto the coffee table and took the open chair to my right.

I thought about refusing as he leaned forward to pour the glasses, but given my current situation, decided not to. It couldn't hurt. Nothing could hurt as bad as the feelings warring within me. Maybe it would help.

He handed me mine, his eyes level and a small smile on his lips. "May your life now be as it was always meant to."

I swallowed hard, uncertain how to take his toast. While it was a nice sentiment, my life had never been anything less than chaotic. Still, I lifted the glass and drank when everyone else did.

It burned, far worse than anything I'd ever tried, but the more I swallowed, the easier it became. In a way, the burn was nice. I could feel it even when it hit my stomach, and the warming sensation brought comfort.

Red didn't get any less crazy when combined with alcohol. The more she consumed, the more loose she became. "Do more magic! Please!" she insisted, practically on top of Doogal as she gripped his shoulders and shook him.

He didn't seem to mind. Owen joined in, and between the two of them, it was actually pretty impressive. I found myself focused enough on the private show, that I didn't even think about the other stuff, about Brady. The pain eased as the bottle emptied.

It went on for hours, and the clock above the fireplace read three in the morning. A yawn escaped me, my mind fuzzy and light. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

Red pouted, but didn't argue. "Alright." She looked at the two men. "It's okay if I crash here, right?"

"Of course," Owen answered easily. "You can stay as long as you like."

She shot him a wink, then bumped her shoulder into Doogal. "You don't mind, do you?"

He grinned over at her. "Not at all."

Red bit her lip, then stopped as she looked back at me. "Right. Bed. I'm coming too."

Standing let me know just how much I'd drunk, and Red didn't seem any steadier. The pair of us wobbled up the stairs, using each other as well as the rail for support.

The moment we hit the bed, Red was out. I, on the other hand, stayed awake. My phone lay face down on the nightstand, and temptation filtered through me like wisps of fog as I stared at it. Had he texted me again?

Could I text him back?

I grabbed the device, but no new alerts lit my screen. The message he'd sent before might as well have been a tether, connecting me to thoughts of him no matter how hard I fought to avoid them. Like a glutton for punishment, I opened it up and read it again, my fingers poised over the keys.

I was just about to give in, to do what my heart wanted and text him. Part of me longed for him to tell me it was all lies. That same part wanted to believe him when he ultimately denied the claims. My drunken mind left alone to its own devices, didn't want to be responsible. I had no desire for logic. Logic was painful. Logic was less than what I'd felt with him.

Then the closet door creaked and pulled my attention away from the screen.

The artificial light from my phone in the otherwise dark room made it impossible to see. My heart stuttered as another creak echoed through the room, too loud in the otherwise deathly quiet. I turned the phone around, shining the light in the direction, and a scream ripped from my lungs.

Red eyes filled the opening.

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