Phoenix, a Romance story

SLASH

I dragged the body bag in, relishing the way the heavy plastic crinkled against the concrete floor of Aeron’s garage. It had been a minute since I had visited this place for anything other than a hot shower. These moments usually consisted of a quick exchange before I shuffled myself off to my next destination. On the rare occasion, I needed to clean up, I stayed for a shower and maybe a conversation. Aeron was one of the few people in the world I didn’t have to hide from.

Should I have visited Aeron more often? Sure. But I barely had time for myself, let alone fulfilling my own twisted urges. I dropped the load with a loud thud, signaling my arrival.

Aeron’s head popped up from behind one of the abnormally large chest freezers. That one was new. He grinned, his lips curling unnaturally as his gaze dropped to the black mass adorning his floor. His tongue darted out, almost as if he were tasting the addition to his garage. I had never enjoyed watching his eyes bug out in carnal desire, but I couldn’t hate him for it.

We might not have been blood, but we had an easy enough partnership going that I couldn’t fault him for it. Aeron approached and shifted me out of the way as he crouched over the bag, his fingers itching to shred the plastic. I wasn’t sure how he had as much self-control as he did. “It’s awfully late of you to show up, Slash. Or shall I say early? 2 am is usually reserved for booty calls, you know.” I had the urge to kick him, knock him off balance. He should have been glad that I came by at all. His fingers danced over the bag with excitement. “May I?”

I chuckled and stepped back further, “Have at it.”

He squealed – yes a grown man squealed – and yanked the zipper down, revealing my freshest kill to date. The dickhead hadn’t been on my list, but he was such an easy target and I had been feeling antsy lately, itching to do something. I kicked the fucker’s foot, jostling Aeron’s attention. I needed Aeron’s reaction to know if this guy would do. “Fresh meat?” His hand traveled the length of the guy’s face before he tapped the guy’s cheek three times in quick succession. “You’re too good to me.”

I grunted my appreciation, but Aeron whipped his head towards me, “Yet, you couldn’t have dropped it in the cooler?”

And there it was. The haughty guy I remember getting into bed with, so to speak. We were every bit of six feet, filled out, and every boyfriend’s worst nightmare. But Aeron had been gifted with piercing ocean-gray eyes and I had been stuck with the honey-brown ones. I didn’t usually mind until he became excited about a new recipe and started drooling over his next creation. His eyes would flash an unnatural blue, the darkness spreading through his features. Aeron was a terrifying creature to behold, when in his element. I’m glad we were partners, rather than enemies.

I shrugged, “I was getting a little antsy. I should have taken my time though. Now, I’m just frustrated.” I remembered this kill, just like I had all the other ones. It’s why the city had dubbed me ‘The Skinner’, a fitting name to be sure. I tended to take my time, carving each victim with the expertise of a professional. I left filets of my victims to be found by the public, etching fear and terror in the hearts of every city resident. It brought me joy – the chaos and destruction that I left behind.

But I hadn’t planned out a good kill in almost a month and my left hand had started shaking again. So, I had to jump on a poor sucker, without even so much time as to intricately prepare him for the public. Hell, I had barely spilled any blood. This kill didn’t sit well with me, but it would subdue the beast inside for a little while longer.

Aeron had gone back to admiring the body, checking for abnormalities. This was one of the parts I hated – the way he checked out the merchandise I brought him. He found a sick sense of satisfaction doing this in front of me. Then again, I had definitely slashed a few throats in front of him and he had had nightmares for months.

We were both a little fucked up.

Aeron stood up and threw me one of his award-winning smiles, one of those that would never let you know that this model of a man chopped people up and ate them for dinner. “You need to fuck someone.” He threw out bluntly.

I sighed. I knew that. I knew that not having a fuck buddy made me twitch. But finding someone to match my twisted fantasies was more than a little difficult. I watched in fascination as Aeron expertly whipped out one of his carving knives and sliced into the man’s cheek. Blood dribbled at the open wound, refusing to travel down his cheek. I knew this part would give me nightmares, but I couldn’t look away. I kept talking, “I have someone in mind.”

I did. I just didn’t know how to contact him. I also didn’t know if he wanted to talk to me.

Aeron nodded, “Oh, I’m sure you do. But you need someone now. I don’t think your choice is available at the moment.” He dragged a finger along the open cut and pressed it on his tongue. His eyes rolled back, and he remained crouched in that position for a moment, sucking on his finger.

I groaned, finally looking away, “Fucking hell, that shit’s disgusting.”

Aeron cackled while he zipped up the bag, threw it over his shoulder, and walked the few paces to his new freezer before plopping it inside. I winced at the way the body limply hit the bottom. I frowned at him, “Not even going to section it first?”

Aeron shook his head as he closed the lid. He squatted down, watching until the freezer light turned off and the sound of suction reached my ears. He patted the top three times before he looked up at me again, “No, blood gets everywhere. I don’t like mess. You should know that.”

“Still fucking disgusting.” I enjoyed the thrill of the kill. Anything after that was a hassle. Aeron enjoyed the dismembering portion and of course… the eating part. I fake retched and he sent me a dark glare, but his eyes were dancing.

“And you love me for it, so deal with it.” I couldn’t disagree with him on that.

A dark outline appeared from the entrance I had used moments ago, “That was too fucking close. Both of your cravings are going to get us in trouble.”

Ah, Samael. It was my turn to laugh. “Ah, how’s my little Sammy? A little pissy you didn’t get to wreak as much havoc as usual?”

“Fuck you.” The beast was finally here. The public called him The King. An unknown chess piece. Fuck, if they only knew. Despite being two years younger than my 28-year-old self, he easily had six inches on me, not to mention that his broad shoulders put most weight lifters to shame. The man was massive and his mere presence struck fear. Not with me though. Growing up beside a guy like that taught you a few things about true terror. Let’s just say, I’d never want to be on the receiving end of Samael’s anger.

Aeron smiled from behind his freezer as if he was mulling over how to prepare his next meal. I shuddered. “You’re literally here to make sure we don’t get caught.” His voice was light-hearted as if he hadn’t just stuck an entire body in his freezer for a future dinner. Sometimes the ease with which Aeron hid his inner demons terrified me.

Samael gave both of us a once over, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, but this impromptu shit? That’s gotta stop.”

We all knew we had to be careful. But I also knew the signs. Everyone had been getting a little trigger happy. I had covered my tracks. No one would miss this guy for at least a week. Besides, Samael had gotten something out of the kill too. “Hey, stop throwing a hissy fit. This got you a fucking full warehouse of medical supplies. That stuff will bring a pretty penny.”

“Fuck you.”

Aeron looked up and smiled at the both of us, “You both need to get laid.”

We glared at him, but he didn’t shrink back. None of us were scared of each other. Being each a monster ourselves, saved us from that. “And you don’t?” I spit back at him.

“No. I need to eat.” He tapped the freezer three more times. Everything was so methodical with him. Always in threes or fives. Nothing missed. It was a wonder that despite the freezers down here, his house was so… normal. Clean. Spotless.

I groaned, “You’re not going to go rabid and eat it raw, are you?”

Aeron cocked his head to the side, “I’m disappointed that you would think I’d disrespect my food that way. No, it will be prepped to perfection as always.” He managed a small chuckle as he headed for the upstairs door. “Are you staying for dinner?”

I glanced at Samael, searching for an expression. I wouldn’t find any. That man was like a stone wall when it came to emotions. There was the every day, blank expression and then there was anger. I wasn’t even sure I had seen Samael smile since we were kids. I turned my attention back to Aeron, who was now halfway up the stairs. “Is that a trick question?”

Aeron offering food was never a good sign. You never ate his food, under no circumstances. Especially not in his house. “You guys can order out, although I’d have to say the pork roast I’m making is to die for.” He giggled again as if that would make it any more appetizing.

Samael broke character, growling at Aeron, “Fucking hell, we all know that’s not pork.”

Aeron shrugged and gestured to the kitchen. I fell in line behind Samael, knowing that we weren’t going to turn down the invitation to spend time together. It had been a while.

I stared at one of the menus affixed to Aeron’s fridge. How thoughtful that he always had take-out menus for when we found a minute to stay over. “How about that pizza place down the street?” I directed at Samael.

“Already on it.”

3: II

KILLIAN

Journalism wasn’t a profession. That’s what dad had said. It wasn’t a respectable career. It was a bunch of kids who did crack investigative work and posted pseudo-facts for popularity-pissing contests. But growing up with a lead detective as a father wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. He was rarely home and when he was, he was always distracted or too tired to tune into family affairs. I’d rather be in those popularity-pissing contests than end up like that.

Then again, I didn’t completely disagree with him. My job barely paid for my slightly bigger than a closet studio apartment – this couldn’t be legal – and I’d seen some of the underhanded tricks my coworkers had pulled to get intel for a front-page story.

Still, the wild news stories didn’t report themselves. My dream had always been to focus on crime reporting, but my chances had been slim to none when I decided to use my mother’s maiden name after she passed away. No one knew who the fuck I was, despite having one of the most powerful men in the city as my father. I didn’t want to use him as a crutch – although I certainly could have – and then I wouldn’t have been in this particular mess. Even the trust fund that I’d had access to since I was 18 had remained untouched. I refused to give my father the satisfaction.

I sighed, pouring over the loose paper spread across the tattered mattress I called a bed. It was a step up from sleeping on the floor, but not by much. Pictures were scrambled amongst them, pictures that give most people nightmares. Not me. I’d always been a little intrigued by the darkness that surrounded me, spending more time fascinated by the crazies and the crime rather than avoiding it. My other half – as I had so deemed it ‘Dark’ (real creative, I know) – fed off the doom and gloom in my life, living it, breathing it, demanding it. It was one of the more annoying itches that Dark needed to be scratched.

My stomach growled, vying for my attention but I ignored that too, knowing I had nothing to satisfy it with until tomorrow morning’s free breakroom muffins. They usually tasted like shit, but it was sustenance. My tabby cat, Lucy, wandered over, slurping up the remains of day-old milk from a cereal bowl I had neglected to toss in the trash. She meowed unhappily but didn’t stop. Stupid cat.

I groaned as Dark whined for fresh air. I sometimes hated the way he dominated my life, taking over with such confidence that I could do nothing but wait him out. I shifted myself in my pants uncomfortably, knowing that that too was another issue I had no way of relieving. At least not to the extent that I needed. Dark had a way of… getting turned on by the darker shit in this city.

I turned my attention to the documents again, intrigued by the endless chaos ripping through the city. Dark would have to be satisfied with studying gruesome crime stories tonight.

Fuck, no. I’m not satisfied with this shit. I want to go out.

I groaned, shaking my head furiously. The last time Dark had taken the reigns, I had ended up halfway across town, sore and with no remembrance of the orgy I had taken part in. I wasn’t even mad that Dark had had an orgy. It was that I didn’t fucking remember it. Dark’s life resolved around chaos, sex, and alcohol. Which was great, but I needed to support myself and his whimsical adventures ended up draining my attempts at moving out of this shithole.

Tinstown – pronounced Tins-tin and anyone pronounced it Tins-town was a fucktard – was no Gotham, but it might as well have been. Three terrors had seemingly taken over Tinstown nearly overnight.

The Skinner – a serial killer who seemed to relish in torturing his victims by nearly skinning them alive.

The Cannibal – a beast who enjoyed hacking up his victims and then discarding their skeletons in some strange fashion weeks later.

The King – an unknown player added to the game. A ruthless force that took what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted.

No one had seen any of their faces. No one knew who they were. No one had any clues.

Unlike Gotham though, we didn’t have our own Batman to save the day.

Dark chuckled. Instead, you have your father’s crack police force that enacts curfews, strict guidelines, and offers rewards for tips.

I grimaced. Dark wasn’t wrong. My dad’s attempt at cleaning up the city was a desperate one and it had hardly slowed the terrors down. A midnight curfew also meant that Dark hardly ever got out to play. Not that I was complaining. He always got into shit and left me to fix it in the morning.

I’d love to meet them.

I grunted, “Fuck that, Dark. You’re not getting anywhere near them.” But it was only a matter of time until Dark tried something a little less… legal.

I wonder if they’re hot.

I brushed off the comment, biting my lip, as my mind raced a mile a minute. I had a hunch that The Three Terrors weren’t exactly separate in their endeavors. Tinstown wasn’t big enough for three separate forces of evil. Dad had balked at my idea, telling me that while some people were inherently evil, working together without leaving any traces behind was impossible. If only he knew about Dark…

Would you quit biting your lip? Do you know what that does to your appearance?

“Fucking hell, Dark.” I was instantly glad that I lived alone. There would be no way to explain my private conversations. “I’m not taking you to the club anytime soon. It doesn’t matter.” Not to mention that my choice in partners thought my lip biting was rather cute.

Why not? We had fun a few weeks ago.

“Because you fucking spent all my money! And that thing you did – fuck.”

Dark chuckled and for once I wished he were real so that I could punch him in the dick. Maybe if he couldn’t use it, I wouldn’t end up in so much trouble.

But, K, you liked that… thing.

I couldn’t win with this guy. After all, Dark was just me. He was my confidence and crazy personified. If he liked it, so did I. But I’d never inherently ask for it.

My eyes flicked up to the nonsense on TV. The thing was nearly 20 years old and I still had to smack it and move the atennas into strange positions to catch the stolen signal from next door. I kept the news on in the background, the constant hum of crime drowning out the noises beyond my thin walls.

I watched as a young crime reporter shifted awkwardly on-screen, gripping her mike. She didn’t seem like she had chosen the right profession, her petite frame shaking uncontrollably. Terror was plastered on her face as she stood mere feet away from a body, detectives and crime scene technicians swarming the scene, large light fixtures posted around the area to keep away the early morning darkness. I wasn’t even sure how I was still awake at this ungodly hour. The body was covered in a white sheet, but I could tell from her expression that she had seen it uncovered.

I chuckled to myself as I tuned into her shaky voice, Dark still itching to get out. I would never understand why he found all of this dark, depraved shit such a turn-on. I palmed my dick through my pants absentmindedly, a deep groan slipping through my lips.

See? You want it too. Let’s go out and play.

I fixed myself again, refusing to play into his antics. “Back in the box, bitch.” Dark didn’t respond. Lucy rubbed up against my leg, purring, but I ignored her silent pleas for more food. The girl ate better than I did.

Another body had been found by the lake. But this one didn’t fit any of The Three’s MO’s. There was a new killer in town – a new player. That definitely wouldn’t sit well with the public, yet another terror running free throughout the streets. Somehow, it didn’t terrify me. In fact, Dark was nearly vibrating with excitement.

I couldn’t help the up curl of my lips. The thought of more unbridled chaos ripping through this shithole? An unleashed sense of anticipation rushed through me. I was definitely a sick and twisted son of a bitch. I blamed Dark.

4: III

III

AERON

I knew Slash was watching as I sliced through the “pork” loin on my plate, but I didn’t mind. I liked when he watched and I knew he was drooling. I was hardly an amateur cook and I prided myself on the food that I made, even if it wasn’t to… everyone else’s liking. I gathered a bit of mashed potatoes and three green beans onto my fork before stuffing the entirety into my mouth. A perfect combination. I resisted the urge to moan.

I knew that that would have been the last straw between these men.

Samael tapped incessantly on the table to draw Slash’s attention, “You keep staring at him, his ticks will start again. You know he likes being watched.” I swallowed my giggle. Samael knew me well. My ticks – or rather my exhibitionist streak – were part of everything I did. The longer someone watched, the more inclined I felt to show off. I had scared Slash on more than one occasion with my strange habits. But it was his fault for staring.

Slash tore his eyes away from my plate, “I’m mad it looks so fucking good. Like the fuck? I just wanna fuck him into the bed like we used to.”

I swallowed, cutting off another bite-sized piece and leaning my fork towards Slash, “It’s just a different type of meat. You’re welcome to try some.” I ignored his comment – as did Samael apparently, despite my cock twitching at the thought. All three of us had at some point shared a bed, but soon found that we were all a little too Alpha male in our own right. It was a shame; I thought both of these men sitting at my table were gorgeous specimens.

Slash grimaced and shoved my hand away. “Stop asking. I’m not going to say yes. We all have our thing. This is yours and only yours.” I nodded, returning my attention back to my plate with a cheeky grin. This food would not go to waste. I would make sure of it. However, the scent of stale cheese and old bread was messing with my creation. Their choice of dinner was anything but delectable. I should have chosen one of the other pizza places around the corner. But they seemed to enjoy it and it was the only joint open at this time of night, so I left it alone.

Slash’s gaze lingered on my plate again, before he picked up his phone, “Did you see the news?”

Samael answered with his usual grunt, but I was more than intrigued. I had heard about it earlier this evening as the news replayed the same story on repeat. Some ignorant fucker had dropped a body by the lake. “Yeah, any news on who’s out there dropping bodies?” I spoke, stuffing yet another bite in my mouth, relishing the way everything melted on my tongue. Just one moan couldn’t hurt, right? It was a compliment to the chef, after all, even if it was my own creation.

But I knew that everyone was on edge and while Slash had some restraint, I’m not sure Samael wouldn’t find a way to fuck me against my kitchen table without so much as another thought. We occasionally succumbed to our more animalistic instincts, using each other to fill our basic needs, but those times were rare. Very rare. And we never spoke about them afterward.

I clamped my mouth shut and thought about the newest crime scene. Sure, it was only one body. But it was only a matter of time before more bodies started showing up around the city if this killer wasn’t taken care of. None of us needed that kind of attention.

Slash shrugged, scrolling through his phone. He squinted a few times, cocked his head to the side, and then returned it to the table. “No idea. It’s completely clean.” Samael perked up but didn’t ask a question. We could all read him, even when he wasn’t talking.

I pushed myself from the table, carrying my plate to the sink. “The streets had to be empty if no one had seen it take place. So, definitely after midnight.” With the recently mandated curfews, only people with nothing else to live for would be caught outside after dark. Crime had risen to an all-time high after individuals began realizing that the police were no closer to catching us three than when they had started.

Samael broke his silence, “Not even the police have found any evidence. Definitely a clean kill.”

I frowned and faced the both of them still seated at my kitchen table. If they knew just what I did on the surface of that table before I had scrubbed it clean, I’m sure they wouldn’t stop through anymore for friendly visits. “Is that even possible?” I asked them. A clean kill was rare for an amateur, which meant that it was highly likely another professional had just shown up in Tinstown.

I searched their expressions, hoping to find answers. But there were none. This was new to all three of us. Slash pushed away from the table as well, “No idea. They can’t even identify her and they won’t be able to discover a motive until then. Whoever did this, knows exactly what they’re doing. The kicker is that the liver is missing.”

I felt their gaze on my back as I started rinsing off my plate. I sighed, letting my shoulders fall. “It wasn’t me.” I wanted to scream at them, but I knew they weren’t suspecting me. It was a sort of jest between the three of us, jokingly asking about crimes that we knew none of us had our fingers in. “I wouldn’t have left the body there.”

Which was true. If Slash hadn’t brought another body tonight, I wasn’t sure I would have lasted longer than a week. I hadn’t had to kill anyone in years, but if I had, I would have been more careful than splaying out the remains in such a public place. Not to mention how much meat the new player had left. What a shame.

I placed the plate on the drying rack and pulled out dessert. It was a ritual between the three of us, whenever we shared a few moments together. Mom’s tart. It was the only recipe that I had ever learned from her before she passed away and the only thing that these men ate from my kitchen. I placed it on the table in front of them, accompanied by three forks and small plates. “Cheers.” I threw them a warm smile.

Slash leaned closer, surveying the tart before him, “Are we going to find an eyeball in there?”

I slid back into my chair, disgusted. “I can’t believe you think I’d disrespect mom’s recipe like that. For that comment, you can suffer without a slice while we eat.”

Slash groaned, “And you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Give me a fucking plate.” Samael managed a tight smile, though I might have imagined it.

I slipped them each a slice, savoring the largest piece for me. After all, I had made it. Samael spoke first, “I’ll look into the kill and see what I can find. We need to know if this changes things.”

I nodded, savoring the blueberries on my tongue. It reminded me of everything good in our childhood – which wasn’t much. “And if it does?”

I opened my eyes to see both men staring at me. I swallowed, waiting for an answer. Slash just shrugged and dug into his own dessert, “Then we get rid of it. This isn’t anything new.”

I smiled wide before shoving another bite into my mouth. We might have our own sick and twisted desires to feed, but like hell would we let another person encroach on our territory. Whoever this was had started a game – one that we were more than willing to play.

5: IV

KILLIAN

Wednesdays were the worst – god-awful creations – stuck in the middle of the week to destroy all of our inhibitions and drive. It was the day everyone hated, the one that seemed to stretch entirely too long, and no good ever came of it.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t crawled under my sorry excuse for covers until after 4 am. Between studying the crime folders, trying to piece together clues from the crime scene, and Dark threatening to keep me up all night until I jacked off, I had been generous to even get two hours of sleep. There hadn’t been any muffins when I arrived this morning either. I had to settle for those nasty health bars that some Karen had brought in from a cleanse retreat. I settled into my half of the cubby, eyes wandering the strangely hectic office, and bit into it.

Tastes like chocolate ass.

I wholeheartedly agreed with Dark and quickly spit it out, tucking myself into my chair, before turning my computer on. Despite having worked here for nearly eight months, I was no closer to having my own column than the salaried grunts stationed at this place. Our boss – Alex – didn’t know talent when he saw it. We were just little minions that helped keep The Revival in business. Whatever he needed, we did.

You’re just the perfect little bitch, aren’t you?

Remind me how much I fucking hate Dark. Always interjecting into my life and I couldn’t even talk back to him without ending up in a padded cell. I took a few deep breaths, the way my mother used to do to clear out her head.

You can’t think a little air is going to make me go away.

Fuck, someone was chatty today.

Working for The Revival was a dream that most journalists would die for. Unfortunately, fresh kids out of college rarely knew what happened inside those beautifully crafted, front doors. It was a cutthroat, shitty world in here. My first attribution to a column happened after being here for three months of carrying coffees, copying papers, and generally being Alex’s bitch.

Everything in my life seemed to happen in threes.

The Three Terrors.

Three months before I was even recognized as more than a minion.

Three journalists that carried the weight of The Revival. Anything they wrote was supposed to be gold. It wasn’t. They rarely even did their own research.

And then… there were the three men I had walked out on over the last three years. Beautifully dangerous and highly addictive. I shuddered as the memories flooded back into my mind and willed my dick to calm down. I didn’t need to remember what I couldn’t have.

But you could have them if you just let me out to play.

I hissed a ‘be quiet!’ and then gathered myself, remembering that I was in public. Dark needed to be dealt with, but he’d have to wait. My best friend from college and cubby mate, Nyla, popped in, a crazy smile plastered on her face. I hadn’t had nearly enough coffee to deal with the woman, but she was the only one that acknowledged my existence here, so I tolerated her craziness. And she tolerated my anti-social smart-ass. She shoved a muffin towards me. “I saved it. Those vultures always descend on the freebies.”

I threw her a noiseless ‘thank you’ and sank my teeth into it. She did a little twirl, obviously not caring the way the air picked up the edges of her skirt to an obscene level for office attire. Her brown curls cascaded around her as she plopped haphazardly into her half of the cubby. Alex couldn’t even be bothered with splurging for private workspaces. I sighed, watching Nyla’s bright energy seep from her side of our closet office. If I had been into women, she would have definitely been at the top of the list.

“Glad you liked it. Karen #2 baked those, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the absence of raisins.” I stared at her, refusing to comment on that. She had taken to dishing out nicknames to our coworkers to match their personalities. At the moment, we had three Karens in our office. I didn’t mind the new names. It kept me from learning their real ones – because let’s be honest, I didn’t care.

She watched me eat for a few seconds, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes roamed my figure, trying to decipher my emotions. Nyla always claimed she could read people, but she never got it quite right with me. “Bitch, you never texted me back. You saw the news? Alex has been yelling at the grunts for an hour.” I nodded, still chewing on the muffin. Karen #2 might not have put raisins in here, but there was something else and it didn’t sit right with me.

That shit’s nasty. Worse than the health bar. Go back to the goddamn health bar.

I placed the muffin on my desk, fighting the urge to yell at Dark. I’d come back to the baked good later. Maybe. “Yeah, shit’s crazy.” I swallowed; my mouth suddenly dry. I needed milk, stat. “But we don’t usually write crime columns.” It was the only reservation when I had applied here. I wanted to write about crime, not just the lame daily news or get roped into the ‘Top Ten’ lists.

But Alex tended to dip his hands in new pots when it meant money was involved. Nyla laughed out loud, yet another reason I liked her. She wasn’t afraid to be real about her emotions. “We do now. Alex is all over this shit. Saying we need an exclusive. I think he stuck Thomas on it.”

I nodded, staring at the muffin again. My stomach was nearly eating itself. I hadn’t had a full meal since yesterday’s breakfast and my body was starting to make me pay for it. Or it might have been Dark’s way of giving me the middle finger. Fuck being an adult. It sucked. “If anyone can find something, it’d be him.”

Nyla slid me a water bottle. “Eat up, bitch. I know you didn’t have food last night. I’ve seen your apartment, remember?” I groaned at the realization that someone knew how fucked up my life was outside of this place – well she knew a lot more than everyone else. But she didn’t know everything. “Also, Thomas doesn’t know shit. You’re being way too humble again. Everyone knows that you’re one of the better researchers here.”

I choked on the muffin and hurriedly downed the water bottle. I sputtered as I cleared my throat, “Huh?” Alex hadn’t just hired an intern. He had hired me because of how easily I seemed to acquire and retain information. The problem was, I rarely got recognized for it. Not that I truly cared. I hated unnecessary attention. I had just been hoping for a few more dollars an hour for the trouble. Unfortunately, Alex wasn’t the generous type.

Nyla scooted forward, her leg brushing mine. Her face was now in my personal space. It was a good thing I liked her, “You think I didn’t notice? I’m your best friend. Heck, I’m your only friend.” She wasn’t wrong. After moving out from the dorms and starting here, she was the only one that had given me the time of day. She didn’t suck. And she was also one of the only people who had never caught me talking to Dark. “All those ‘exclusives’ that everyone has, you seem to know a lot more about them than they do. I see you always muttering under your breath, giving out all the answers and shit. I’m not blind.”

“Everyone else is.” I slid to the edge of our cubicle, my eyes darting around for any eavesdroppers. But it seemed that everyone was too occupied with this new crime article to be listening to our conversation. I had hoped Nyla would let it go. But she was a true advocate for equality and all that shit.

Nyla pulled me back, wheeling me towards my desk. She placed two firm hands on my armrests, staring me dead in the eye. The twinkle had disappeared. Fuck, this girl was serious. “And good thing too, because I’m not sure how Alex would take to the fact that you’ve been basically doing everyone’s job.”

I shrugged. It wasn’t that Alex didn’t know. It was that he didn’t care. “Whatever. What’s on the agenda today?” I needed a change of conversation. It was surprising that Dark had been silent for the last few minutes. I’m sure it wouldn’t last.

Nyla sported a lopsided grin, clicking her mouse a few times to wake her computer up, “Relaxing. We don’t even have columns to write and the journalists we usually research for are doing their own work for a change. We just need to wait.”

I sighed and logged in, rumbling through unfinished reports from yesterday. I only needed to pass the probation period – which in reality should have been 90 days. Here, at The Revival, it was as long as Alex said it was. For me, that meant 8 months of trying to prove myself to a man that didn’t give a fuck about my existence.

See? I told you that you were the perfect little bitch.

Goddamnit.

6: V

KILLIAN

I was wrong.

Alex knew exactly who I was.

I stared blankly at my boss. Sometimes I wasn’t sure why I had taken up journalism as a career. The amount of research required to write 300 factual words was ridiculous and 90% of the time, one of the three main journalists – The Gods as Nyla had named them – got all the credit. I had yet to attach my name to even one column here.

They’re more like ass wipes. They don’t even do anything.

I couldn’t argue with that. The Gods had made a name for themselves early on, trailblazing through material, setting The Revival up to be one of the most popular newspapers in Tinstown. But somewhere along the way, they screwed their heads on wrong and pushed their work off to the grunts. Or to the minions. Like me.

Heck, after eight months I was still shadowing other grunts. And while sharing a cubicle with Nyla wasn’t torture, it was less than ideal stuck in the back of the layout where I could easily be forgotten. Working as a minion didn’t pay the rent. But here I was, standing in front of Alex’s desk – a place I had only seen the day I had been hired – being asked to take part in my first ride-along. Or three.

No, not like that.

A ride along with The Gods to meet their sources. I was supposed to observe their interviewing techniques as they met with some of the top forces around the city. Which would have been fine.

Had Alex not shown me just who I would be meeting. A Chef. A Surgeon. A Detective.

Three of the most widely known and powerful individuals in this city with drastically different backgrounds. All equally attractive, enticing, and addicting. I should have been quaking in my boots from the sheer fame I was about to experience.

But that was hardly the problem.

No, these three men had at one time been my men. I had known all of them in different capacities and at different times. These men had silenced Dark, satiated him, indulged him. It terrified me, the power they wielded. Dark didn’t take to anyone and these three men had owned him. I ran, tail between my legs, afraid to face my reality. But I had never been able to stop thinking about our late-night conversations, their voices, their touches, their bodies, their warmth…

Their fucking cocks…

I swallowed, trying to keep whatever confused emotion I was feeling away from my face. Hearing Alex’s scowl as I fixated on the three files on his desk told me that I had failed. Spectacularly. “Killian, I expect professionalism in all things. I’m giving you an opportunity to put your skills to good use, here.”

Professionalism? Dark scoffed at the thought. These men are the embodiment of sin and he expects professionalism? The things I let them do to me? Repeatedly?

I bit my lip and clenched my fists. Fucking hell, Dark had no filter. I resisted the urge to tell Alex that I wasn’t ready for these ride alongs, that I needed more time stashed away in the corner of my desk. A brief moment of weakness had me thinking telling Alex that I personally knew all three of those men would have been a safe route. Fuck that. Alex would have sunk his claws into that exclusive immediately. I nodded, “Yeah.”

I knew what my skills were – research. Alex banked on it. He slapped the table, trying to get my attention. I snapped my neck up to meet his gaze and watched him scowl at my uneasy expression. “If you do well, you might end up with your own column.” I dropped my gaze again, knowing that he hated my eyes. Heterochromia is what they called it. Sounded like a fucking disease to me. Most people were confused or fascinated by it. Alex found them distracting and knew from the moment he met me that I was hiding something.

Your eyes are what help make you fuckable, K. I didn’t respond to him, because well… I couldn’t. Also, you’re going to die today.

I shrugged off the thought, “When are they doing the interviews?”

I could feel Alex smiling as he settled into his chair, leaning back as if he hadn’t just been running around this morning about the crime article we were going to publish. “Today. The interviews are scattered. You’ll have breaks in between all of them, enough to gather your notes, grab a bite, etc. Jamie will give you all the details.”

I told you that you were going to die today. Meeting all three fuckable men in a day’s work? You better let me out at least once.

I wanted to punch something. Alex was really milking me for all that I was worth. But having nowhere else to go except maybe picking up my old waiter shift at the diner across the street – I’d die before I tapped into that trust fund or asked my father for help – I had to keep my mouth shut and take whatever opportunities he threw my way. Even if it meant that I was doing The Gods’ work and not getting paid for it.

Still a bitch. Dark spit out in a sing-songy voice. I couldn’t wait till Alex dismissed me from his office so I could wring Dark a new one.

“Killian, I expect full reports of everything you learn at these interviews.”

I gathered the folders that I was supposed to study before finding Jaime in an hour, realizing exactly what Alex expected from me. I wasn’t going on a ride-along for a possible opportunity. Alex just didn’t trust his “best” journalists to gather all of the information needed to write a perfect column. I was essentially on clean-up duty.

I settled into my desk, dropping my head to the surface, and ignored Nyla’s attempts to get me to spill the deets. I didn’t need to read anything in those files. I knew these men. I knew who they were. I knew things about them that most people would never dream of knowing. I bit back a frustrated groan.

Fuck, none of these developments were good. I was going to die this week. Dark was right. I secretly wished that The Skinner had me penned for his next target.

Ah, kinky.

Of course Dark would think that getting slashed and torn apart by a serial killer was foreplay.

7: VI

KILLIAN

Jamie had been none too pleased to be stuck with me. Supposedly, it was an insult to his intelligence, had he had any, to begin with. Of The Gods, Jamie was probably the most useless. But he had a way with words when he tried and he wasn’t hard to look at, which is why Alex kept him around.

To Jamie’s credit, I wasn’t too excited to be stuck with him either. He reeked of Axe body spray as if he had never matured out of his teen years. He also had this haughty, stuck-up way of approaching all scenarios. He had to be the best man in the room, regardless of the situation. It was the only reason I kept my mouth shut around him. I didn’t want to end up in a physical altercation with the man.

He might have been bigger than me and I might be a little more dignified than to start a fight at the office. But I did have limits and Dark – should I choose to let him out – would have demolished the whack job currently in the driver’s seat.

I’d still fuck him.

I bit back a grimace. No, the fuck you wouldn’t, Dark. And I wouldn’t let you. He’s one of The Gods.

Dark laughed. You’re still calling them that? And yes, the fuck I would. You haven’t let me out to play recently. I’m getting antsy.

Fuck. Dark getting antsy was bad. That was the start of a weekend that I couldn’t remember and me falling short on next month’s rent. But finding someone who enjoyed my… darker interests was difficult when it came to one-night stands. The vanilla shit didn’t do it for Dark. Or for me.

I shrunk as far as I could into the leather, stifling my groan as I bowed my head into my hands. The car came to a stop in an open parking lot, the unnatural spring sun threatening to burn my pale skin. I knew exactly where we were, right in front of the most famous food truck in the city. Gourmet Eats or something like that. I couldn’t do it.

Jamie grunted at my reaction and gathered his briefcase. The man was dressed to a T, full suit, slicked-back hair, and trimmed/manicured everything else. “You’ll do well to remember that Alex requested you be here. Nothing more.” I already knew that this interview was going to be a shit show. This chef didn’t trust men in suits. I was instantly glad that I didn’t own one.

“Can’t I just stay in the car?”

You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? I haven’t seen that sexy god for nearly three years. Don’t deny me this.

Dark, please. I fucking hated talking to Dark in public, whether out loud or in my head. Apparently, I zoned out and looked like I was in some sort of haze. It was nearly impossible to draw me out of it, which had made for more than a few awkward situations.

Jamie opened the door, shooting me an unimpressed glare, “And do what, exactly? For some god-awful reason, Alex has taken a liking to you, and he wants you to learn from the best. Which is me. You will not embarrass me here.”

I tried to disappear farther into the seat, but there was nowhere left to go. “Ok,” I mumbled. I hated having to pretend that I respected the man sitting next to me. He was a dick to everyone and even more so me, knowing that I had every right to claim his position should I have chosen to fight for it. But the way he described food in his columns? I sometimes wished the paper mimicked the foods he wrote about so my cheap ass could eat the paper without spending an extra cent.

“Glad we’re on the same page. Now get yourself together. He’s been gracious enough to give me 30 minutes and I’ll be damned if you decide to ruin it.”

I gathered myself in the overhead mirror, prepped with only a small pad and pen. I hadn’t thought to bring anything else, mostly because I didn’t have anything else to bring. Armed with only my button-down and khaki pants, I rushed behind Jamie, head bowed. I desperately hoped this chef wouldn’t recognize me. The last time he had seen me had been nearly three years ago. I really wasn’t looking forward to this.

You couldn’t have dressed better?

Dark, shut the actual fuck up. You’re making this worse.

8: VII

VII

PHOENIX

I watched the reporter shuffle up to the counter, a smug smile plastered on his bloated face. He was dressed from head to toe in clothes that were entirely too expensive for the occasion, wrong for the weather, and just a little too tight. He should have embraced his wide frame, not tried to hide it. I didn’t like sneaky people.

I recognized him from the editorials in The Revival. People raved about his food column, telling me that I just had to try the dishes he had recommended. I had. I wasn’t impressed.

I still wasn’t sure what had possessed me to let this lying ass into my personal space for an interview. I hated all journalists. I didn’t do interviews. Everyone knew that. But this reporter – this Jamie – had been relentless. I guess my brother was correct. I had been getting soft.

My gaze drifted to the second body, the one scurrying behind Jamie, head down, eyes cast everywhere except my face. This was a new development, more so than the fact that I had agreed to one reporter for the interview. Not two.

He wouldn’t even look at me.

I sniffed at the air, a strange mixture of mint and ginger reaching my nose. Was that his cologne or his body wash? Intrigued, I let myself continue to take him in from the way his chocolate locks fell over his face, to the way the two top buttons of his shirt revealed an AC/DC band tee underneath. He seemed every bit disheveled, flushed, and nervous as Jamie was, but for entirely different reasons.

I wasn’t that famous. I just made really good food and Tinstown had excellent clientele that posted everything on their social media. Anywhere else and I would have faded into the background with all of the other food trucks.

I slipped through the back of the truck, gesturing to one of the open tables. Gourmet Eats – a lame name, I know – didn’t open for another few hours. I was safe from pesky customers for the moment. Jamie took his seat without hesitation as he straightened his suit and laid his briefcase on the table between us. He had definitely come for business, but I wanted to know more about the young man seated beside him.

And when he lifted his head, our eyes met. I understood why he had been so hesitant now. I’d never forget those mismatched irises, one a brilliant honey gold and the other a blissful ocean gray, the look of pure innocence radiating from his expression, and the strange darkness that seemed to cling to a deeper part of him.

I was rarely surprised in my line of work – it was required if I was to make my customers the perfect dish. But Killian had been my soul for the better part of three months. He was one of the few that I had never been able to pinpoint. He always surprised me.

9: VIII

VIII

KILLIAN

I squirmed in my seat, wishing I could be anywhere else than here. Phoenix was staring into my soul and the way his lips were curling up? I knew he remembered me. He had visited one of my home economic classes in my senior year of college just before his first sponsorship became public knowledge. He had just hit fame, new to the entire “chef” scene. But everyone at uni knew who he was. Not only did he have the skills, but he also had the looks to back it up. Lucky bastard.

He had caught my eye on numerous occasions, but he wasn’t an option. Phoenix was supposed to be a passing thought, just like all the other guys who had warmed my bed for a night or a few. Just enough to satiate Dark and move on. But the day I truly met him – during our final – had been someone’s sick attempt at fate. He was supposed to be an end of college life fling. A quickie a week later turned into a secret relationship spanning three months before I walked out on him. See? That cursed three again. The day we met was just as clear in my mind as if that encounter had happened yesterday.

Just a passing grade. Just a C to keep my scholarship. I had skipped half the semester and my entire grade was banking on this last project. I had always been strange, experimenting with flavors that didn’t make sense to anyone other than me. Heck, half the time, I didn’t even know what I was doing. It didn’t matter. I just had to make one dish that Mrs. Letterman wouldn’t scoff at.

Which was easy enough. The old hag had shit tastebuds. As long as it had enough sugar in it, it’d be impossible to fail.

But now that Phoenix was part of the judging committee? The entire game had changed. Fuck.

Especially since the gorgeous specimen of a man kept hovering over my shoulder, watching me work. I had gestured more than once for him to watch the other students that needed a lot more supervision than I did. Phoenix made me nervous and not in a good way. The way his hot breath tickled my ear, I quickly figured out that Phoenix wasn’t supervising. He was watching me – the way my hands moved, the way I swept across my personal table, the way I wielded the chef’s knife…

Did he need to be so obvious?

When my watch signaled the end of class, I left my creation at my station as requested and slipped into the busy hallways, my backpack clutched in my white-knuckled hands. Phoenix hadn’t taken his eyes off me, not once during that hour-long torture session. I couldn’t breathe, the way his gaze seemed to pierce through my soul as if I was being seen for the first time in my life.

But my attempts at escape were apparently futile. He found me not even five minutes later in one of the empty hallways leading to an old, unused college wing. A devious smile adorned his face as he approached with a slow, steady gate. Everything about this man was calculated, counted, and tempting.

“Why’d you do it?”

I racked my brain for answers, trying to figure out what he was referring to. I had barely been able to concentrate on my project. “Wha-at?” He pressed me against the wall, body to body, placing a finger under my chin and lifting until our eyes met. I trembled, watching the crazy look in his eyes deepen with desire.

“The task was to make an egg dish.”

I internally groaned. Even his voice was dripping with honey. Fuck, why did the universe hate me? I hadn’t been touched in almost two weeks and I was feeling the effects of withdrawal. I didn’t even know if I liked Phoenix. I just know that if he offered to fuck me against the wall, I wouldn’t fight him. I might even encourage it. I snapped back to the present, aware that I was probably drooling, “Ye-es.” I had done that. I had made an egg dish. I didn’t know what he was getting at.

He switched from a finger to an almost painful grip on my chin, pulling me flush against him. I grabbed his arms to steady myself. If Phoenix pulled me any closer, he was going to feel how much I enjoyed the roughness of his touch if he couldn’t already.

“But you were the only one who chose mint. Why?”

That was why he had put me in this compromising position? Fuck. I took a few deep breaths. I thought about shimmying away from his hold, but his fingers pressed harder into my jaw. I gasped, my eyes widening as he smirked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Why?” I whimpered.

I couldn’t even manage a decent conversation with the man. His lips curled up again in that mischievous smile as he looked through me, “Yes. I’m asking you why.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t answer his question, because, in reality, I had no idea why I had added mint. Not to mention that I didn’t even remember adding mint. I wasn’t going to let him know that. “I don’t know. I just… why do you care? Did you hate it? Are you failing me?”

He shook his head, releasing his hold on my jaw and caressing my cheek. He was now staring at my lips. “The opposite in fact. I’m confused why it worked.” Phoenix let out a deep breath, pressing his hips against mine, allowing me to feel his interest against my thigh. He leaned his head down into the crook of my neck and mumbled, “You smell like mint too.”

I squirmed against him, my body flush with heat. I could only imagine how red my cheeks were. I didn’t like how Phoenix seemed to get under my skin. The fucker had actually tracked me down. He pulled back slightly, tracing a thumb over my parted lips. “May I?”

I slowly nodded as Phoenix dropped his lips to mine, passionately crushing me in his embrace. I moaned as his hands slid around my back, playing with the exposed skin at the edge of my shirt. Each touch sent shockwaves up my spine. But the kiss ended just as fast as it had begun. He cupped my cheeks in his hands one more time, staring deep into my eyes. “Killian, I do hope we meet again.”

And now, sitting here, in front of Phoenix in all of his glory. I had expected a gut, more facial hair, and a tired look etched into his permanently mysterious expression. None of those things had happened. Time had been excellent to him. Fuck.

You didn’t even know why you wanted Phoenix, back then. Comical, really.

It was true. Three years ago, I had no idea who Dark was. I just knew that I had a habit of ‘acting out’ in ways that contradicted my personality. Phoenix had brought Dark to light. And that terrified me.

I averted my gaze again, glad when Jamie began pouring through his questions. I hadn’t even known when our designated photographer – Stacey – had set up shop feet away from our table. Even with all the distractions, Phoenix’s attention never left me. He was this master of his craft, meticulous in everything he did. I found it amusing, the way he seemed to calculate the world around him – how everything was merely reduced to numbers.

He seemed generally ticked off with Jamie – as he should be – considering the man had shown up in a suit. I never found out the reason behind his aversion to suits or other business attire. It probably had something to do with why Phoenix was working a food truck rather than a restaurant.

Phoenix seemed more interested in Stacey, but not the way normal people were interested in new company. It was the way someone stared at a pig before mercilessly succumbing it to an inevitable fate.

He’s dissecting them. Dark seemed unnaturally amused by the situation. I’m sure if I let him out, he would have jumped Phoenix in a heartbeat, demanding to fall right back where we had left off three years ago. But unlike Dark, I had my pride to think about. And I wasn’t sure what Phoenix wanted to do with me yet.

I really hope he wants to bend you over in his food truck and go to town.

10: IX

PHOENIX

The questions were predictable and boring. Jamie had added no pizazz to anything that any of the other journalists had been begging to ask. But I was far more interested watching Killian squirm uncomfortably across from me, way too many thoughts running through his head. I knew he was replaying some of our more intense nights and the things he had let me do to him. We both enjoyed the dark side of the bedroom, Killian – my little kitten – more than willing to try things most grown men would flush red at.

The man Killian let the world see was nothing like the one behind closed doors.

I stifled one of my devil grins as I continued to watch the dynamic between Jamie and Killian. He seemed to be the brains behind some of the questions, offering words to Jamie whenever the man found himself stuck with the wrong terminology. I wanted those piercing eyes on me, focusing on my movements. I wanted him remembering the kisses we shared, the touches we exchanged. I wanted to taste him again.

“Phoenix, sir?”

I grunted as Jamie’s mention of my name pulled me from my thoughts. He had leaned forward, tapping the table centimeters from my hand. I removed them from the table, glaring at him. For as in awe as Jamie claimed to be of my work and livelihood, he was still trying to square up. For what, I had no idea.

The man straightened his suit again, “You mentioned that you had a few dishes we could take pictures of? Just a few things and then we can wrap up the interview. You’ve been very helpful.”

I grunted, knowing that Jamie was full of bullshit. All of his questions could have been easily googled. Eventually one of the correct answers would have popped up. Still, I had promised pictures of my food. I sighed, heading back into my truck, leaving the door open. My part-timer had set everything up to prepare for this part of the interview. She beamed at me, trembling in the corner, hoping that I wasn’t going to yell at her like I usually did.

I didn’t yell. I just… forcefully told her that she was wrong. All the damn time.

I stared at the spread before me. Everything was all wrong. In all the wrong places. Wrong containers. The sauce had congealed. She would never be a chef. But I had little time to right the situation and I wanted Jamie to leave. I’d have to make quick work of it.

But then I had a better idea. I peeked out of the truck, ushering my part-timer off to her break. I glanced over at Killian with a wide smile, “Him. I want him.”

Jamie coughed and stood up as if I had offended him by not choosing him to step foot in my kitchen. “Excuse me?”

“I need an assistant. You’re asking the questions. Stacey, is it? Stacey needs to take the pictures. And him – he’s here for what? Moral support?” I chuckled and Killian cringed. He played the innocent little kitten so well. I almost believed it.

“I’m just… I’m shadowing.”

“Great, then you’re free to help.” Killian had a natural talent for cooking, and I was curious to see what absentminded addition he would give to my food. I was also hoping that he’d be just as embarrassed as he usually was when I asked him why he did what he did.

Silence filled in between us. Jamie looked furious; Stacey was stunned, and Killian was still squirming in his seat. I cocked my head to the side, “It’s just plating.” Jamie grunted and straightened his suit for the umpteenth teeth. If his bark had any bite to it, I might have been inclined to wipe that expression off his face. But he was harmless. And all I wanted right now was Killian. In my kitchen. Next to me. Alone.

11: X

KILLIAN

I recognized that look in Phoenix’s eyes. I had seen it a handful of times – times when the man standing before me had uttered three words everyone wants to hear at least once in their life. Time hadn’t created a rift between us, at least not from his perspective. And that thought terrified me.

Let me the fuck out. Look at those delicious eyes. Fuck, everything about him.

Dark, quit it. I’m here in an official capacity. You know that.

K, get it through your thick head. You caught feelings for him once upon a time. You can’t just bury those somewhere.

Dark, watch me.

It terrified me that Phoenix’s feelings for me were more than just a passing whim from the time we spent in college. I swallowed carefully, tearing my gaze from him and facing Jamie for his verdict. As much as I hated the man, I wasn’t going to disrespect him during his interview. I was here to observe, not take over.

“Help Phoenix with the plating.”

The words were laced with anger and jealousy as they forced themselves from Jamie’s lips, hitting me like a slap in the face. I stepped back, trying to convey my innocence to all parties involved. Jamie didn’t know about our history, but I hadn’t shown up to create chaos – even so much as Dark loved it. Phoenix gingerly waved me over, a disruption in his usual calm, collected demeanor.

Fuck, I was not going to survive this. And this was only the first of three interviews.

I slipped into the food truck, Phoenix shutting the door behind us, muttering something about letting all the cold air out. I knew that that was a crock of bullshit and I was going to get so much shit in the car after this. I leaned against the door, relishing the cold metal on my back. I hadn’t even noticed that I had been sweating as I stared at the man towering before me.

As my eyes raked over his form, I realized that he was the same man I had loved three years ago. Nothing had changed except the burning desire to explain why I had left. But none of that mattered at the moment. I needed to keep my heart in check so that I could end this meeting as fast as possible.

I shot him a half-smile, trying to keep from showing my discomfort at the situation that Phoenix had obviously engineered. He smirked, cocking his head to the side as a few wisps of his hair fell to the side, his eyes twinkling as he crossed his arms across his chest. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

He has. He’s gotten more beautiful. How is that even possible?

Dark, I won’t be able to say no to him if you keep talking.

K, that’s exactly what I’m banking on.

Phoenix was in front of me now, pressing me against the door, almost the same as when we had first met, but he was easily a few inches taller, while I hadn’t grown at all. I found that the height difference added to my darker desires. He stuck his nose in my hair, caressing my waist. “It’s almost like you never left.” I fisted his shirt in my hands and leaned into him, trembling with the possibilities of this position. Dark was ecstatic at the turn of events, but I was just… unsure. I had left Phoenix for reasons, reasons that seemed silly now that I had accepted Dark for who he was. Phoenix tucked a finger under my chin and lifted my head until our eyes met, “May I?”

I didn’t want to give in. I didn’t want either one of us to cling to hope that we most certainly didn’t have. But I also knew that Dark needed an outlet and Phoenix was a perfect option that had fallen into my lap. Even if just for a moment. So… I headed.

Thank fuck, K.

Phoenix crashed his lips to mine, immediately dominating the embrace, which I had expected but still hadn’t been ready for. The height difference was definitely doing it for us. He captured my lower lip in between his teeth, paying special attention to the part that I always bit. I leaned into him further as I let Dark take the reins. Fuck, this was his show, not mine.

My dick pressed uncomfortably at my zipper, crying for attention, my hips grinding against his. He returned the motion, thrusting just as hard against me, pressing me against the truck door. I was glad that it held. Falling onto the pavement, lip-locked with Phoenix in front of one of The Gods would have been too much to handle.

He dragged his tongue across my teeth, licking me from the inside out. Dark let out one of the whiniest moans I had heard in a long time. Fuck, this couldn’t end well. Phoenix pulled back, one hand locked in my curls, and the other wrapped around my waist. There was negative space between us, our dicks pressed together, our breath mingling between our lips as we tried to catch our breath.

His eyes were dark with desire and I could only imagine the flush in my cheeks. “You taste the same too.”

So does he. Fuck, he might even taste better.

I scrambled from his embrace, knowing very well that if he had no intentions of letting me go, I would have remained pressed against the door. I straightened my shirt and cleared my throat, disregarding both of their comments. “We need to finish the plating. Jamie is going to kill me.”

“I’d never let that happen, you know that.”

I glanced over at Phoenix, trying to decipher the expression on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or dead serious that he wouldn’t let someone kill me. The fact that he still hadn’t cracked a smile worried me. “We need to finish the plating.” I felt the haze clear, meaning that Dark was giving me back the reins.

Fucking killjoy.

Dark, I need this job.

And? I need to get fucked.

Phoenix folded his arms across his chest with a small chuckle and leaned against the kitchen counter, “You mentioned that.” He watched me for a few more seconds before gesturing to the plates on the counter, “Let’s take the ingredients out to the table, alright?” I could see in his eyes that he wanted way more than that kiss, that he had been waiting for me to walk right back into his life. I could also see that he hadn’t thought he’d be waiting three years for it either.

I’ve told you before that you’re a catch.

I didn’t doubt it. It was just that I hadn’t expected someone to fall in love with me. And Dark.

Harsh, K. That hurts.

Dark, you don’t really have feelings.

No, but if I did, those words would hurt.

I shook my head, realizing that I had zoned out again. “We can’t. I-” I stuttered, responding to the unasked question between us. I grabbed as many small containers as I could carry, heading for the door. Phoenix grabbed the handle, reaching around me, effectively encasing my frame again. I sighed helplessly, hearing him hum in agreement as he placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

“I hear you. I’m just not going to let you walk away again.”

Phoenix opened the door and I tumbled out ungracefully, a shocked look on my face. I met my coworkers’ stares, instantly knowing that I had spent way too long in the truck. Jamie looked beyond pissed and I could tell from Stacey’s eyes that she was on the verge of texting absolutely everyone in the office about this interview. I couldn’t hate the woman. She was great at her job. But she knew something was off.

I didn’t need this kind of attention in my life.

And she was about to fuck shit up.

If you hadn’t walked out on Phoenix…

Dark, I fucking know, ok? Give it a rest. I took a deep breath. Are you going to be this fucking annoying with the other two?

Fuck yeah. If it gets me kissed like that? Hell to the fucking yeah.

Fuck you.

There was still time for The Skinner to come and get me.

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