that won’t last long.
He’ll choose Lucifer over me every time, and I don’t blame him.
I’ll do the same for J.
Mav pulls up Lucifer’s driveway—my driveway—and I wait with bated breath, twisting my head to look out the window at that cage, the tarp pinned down to it. I have to get him out of there, and I can only hope that he’s still unconscious. That, just like me, he won’t remember his trauma.
Which dancer was killed? Was it Cindy? Did it happen while I was there? I should ask, but part of me doesn’t want to know. And I should feel worse about it, but…I fucking don’t. Still, the fact someone killed a person working for J, took photos of me…and Elijah’s dead guard…
I push it from my mind. First, I have to get J out of that fucking crate.
The garage door is closed, Lucifer’s M5 presumably behind it, and I think about what it would be like to have my own car. To be able to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, not a target. Not a possession. Not a dirty little secret that needs to be constantly threatened with death to keep me in line. Not that it works, of course. But still.
It must be nice to have it. Freedom.
Lucifer opens up the door of the truck, the interior lights flooding through the cab. He stands in the driveway, ducking his head to look at me, behind his seat. He reaches for the control to lean the seat forward, but I don’t move.
And I don’t need to say anything because Maverick speaks first. “She’s going back with me. Shut the door.”
Lucifer smiles, a dimple flashing in his pale face. “No.” His eyes stay on mine. “This is her house.” He has one hand on the top of the truck, the other flicking the switch as the front seat folds forward, allowing me room to step out and down, into the warm spring night.
But I still don’t move.
My hands are on my knees, and I shake my head, unwilling to budge. “I’m going to—”
“Get out of the fucking truck, Lilith.”
“If you don’t shut the goddamn door, Luce, I’m going to fuck you up.” Maverick’s words are irritated. Impatient.
Lucifer’s blue eyes narrow, his lean jaw clenched. He blows out a breath, but I know he isn’t going to give this up. Before he can say anything though, we hear shouting.
From down the street.
Angry. Loud. Someone calling their names.
Lucifer’s head darts up as he looks toward the source of the noise.
“The fuck?” Maverick hisses, glancing in the side view mirror.
“It’s from Ezra’s house,” Lucifer says in his raspy voice, sounding concerned.
“Goddammit.” That curse is a snarl and Maverick applies the emergency brake, shuts the truck off and hops out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Leaving me with Lucifer.
Lucifer’s eyes find mine, as if he’s thinking exactly that, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a wicked little smile. “Gotcha, baby girl.” Then he reaches into the back of the truck, undoes my seatbelt, and grabs my wrist, yanking me out, pushing me against the side of the truck as my bare feet stumble on the cement of the driveway.
He closes the door, the screaming getting louder. More people joining in with the shouting.
Silence from the bed of the truck.
From Jeremiah.
Lucifer’s hand is planted against my chest, but he drags it down, his fingers skimming my belly, then coming to rest on my low tummy, over my shirt, one hand planted against the side of the truck, beside my head as he stares down at me.
I try not to wince with his fingers digging into the spot Jeremiah carved his initial into me. I don’t want to deal with that shit.
“What’s going on?” I ask, wanting to know even as I want my brother free. If no one is paying attention to him, they’ll leave him alone.
Let him sleep.
And when he wakes up, I promise myself he’ll wake up free. Whatever it takes to get him there.
“I don’t know,” Lucifer purrs, tilting his head. “Let’s go inside.”
A warm breeze blows through the night, lifting the hairs on the back of my neck as I think about being alone with Lucifer. In our house.
A house of fucking nightmares, the last few weeks I was there.
And on our couch, Maddox had—
“Lucifer, get your ass over here!” Maverick’s words are harsh, and Lucifer jerks his head up, looking in the direction of Atlas’s house.
Lucifer groans, rolling his eyes.
“Now!” The word is a bellow,