Free Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) by Amo Jones Page B

died out. Her lifeless eyes peered up at me, already setting into the colorless black marbles of death. I stepped back, collected my hoodie, and left the bathroom. I walked to the window that was in the living room and climbed onto the fire escape before removing my gloves and making my way down the metal steps. Jesus, what the fuck is it about knives?
    Melissa
    The next day, I jump out of bed and walk into the kitchen, putting water on to boil when Beast walks in in all his big monster glory. He’s terrifying to anyone who isn’t Meadow.
    “Hey,” I mutter, looking over his shoulder and hoping Meadow comes behind him.
    “She’s asleep,” he says, answering my silent question. I turn around, taking a mug down out from the cabinet. I twist open the coffee. “What’s your story?” he asks, his head tilting.
    I shake my head, spooning two spoons of coffee into my mug. I fear this day is going to be long. “What do you mean?” I pour the hot water into the mug and lift it to my nose, inhaling the bitter scent of my sanity.
    “I mean,” he continues, walking towards me and leaning on the breakfast bar, “I know a hot mess when I see one. What are you hiding?”
    I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes narrowing before I place it back onto the counter. “You were right about Meadow, but not me.” I smile up at him before shifting my eyes away from his dark, penetrating glare. The man could unnerve anyone with those eyes. They can see right through any bullshit and that doesn’t sit well with me.
    “Keep telling yourself that. They say the unassuming ones have the most to hide. Just keep Meadow away from your shit.” Then he walks out the door and my finger flips up behind his back. He wasn’t wrong; I have my share of skeletons in my closet, but unlike Meadow, I’ve made friends with those skeletons.
    After Meadow wakes up, we decide to be a little mischievous and take the four-wheeler that I spotted in the garage to the clubhouse. It’s about a twenty minute walk, so there’s no way I’m walking in the clothes I’m wearing—a one-piece strapless dress that hugs me faultlessly. Hella and I bump heads too much, and after Beast’s heated warnings this morning, I need to let loose a little more while looking and feeling good. I didn’t want to be here. This was Hella and Meadow’s idea. Everything is intense and my nerves shake with the fear of anything from my past coming to the surface. I’m sick of feeling. Feelings either get you killed or laid, and I’d rather the latter.
    “I’m actually excited!” I clap my hands in glee.
    Meadow pushes the key into the ignition. “Don’t get too excited, I might kill us.”
    I laugh, swinging my leg over the back and pushing my body against hers. She revs the engine like I’m hoping Phoebe taught her how to do before we zip forward, the dirt and gravel kicking up behind us. I laugh, swinging my head back and watching as the little white weatherboard house that we’re staying in begins to fade into the distance.
    We skid to a halt in front of the clubhouse and, just our luck, there’s a crowd of Devil’s outside standing around their bikes along with some walking out of the clubhouse. When Meadow cuts the engine, I swing my leg off and pull my lip into my mouth, attempting to hide my smirk. Beast storms over, the vein in his thick neck pulsing in frustration. I laugh to myself, pulling my skirt down before noticing Hella walking up behind Beast, the look in his eyes feral. I roll my eyes and walk towards the clubhouse. Although my dress pushes my boobs out slightly, it’s not revealing enough that I’d be on dangerous ground for a nip slip. It’s tight and clings to my upper thighs, but it pushes my boobs up slightly enough to see the small curves shadowed on my chest. I opted for tennis shoes too—you know, for comfort.
    I walk straight past Hella, his head following my body as I stroll into the clubhouse and make my way to the bar. Flopping down on the