Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

N ikita had always had shit luck.

His mom had died a week after his birth in a freak accident, and his father had spiraled into a dark depression, leaving him to be raised mainly by his vicious aunt, who had more interest in spending his father's coin than caring for Nikita.

At two years old, he got sick and needed to be hospitalized, where he'd stayed until he was finally released at the age of five.

However, the home he'd returned to hadn't been the one he'd left. While his aunt had spent her time in and out of the hospital "taking care of him" his father had been rekindling an old flame with a high school sweetheart. Nikita didn't know all the details, just that while he'd been ill, his father had remarried, and the two had gotten pregnant.

His brother was already the same age he'd been when he'd entered the hospital, and even though that wasn't very old, Oran had gotten used to being the only child in their household. That was something he'd never gotten over.

In the beginning, Nikita had made the mistake of catering to his brother's whims in the hopes he would warm up to him. That had never happened, in fact, all he'd managed to do was aid in spoiling Oran past the point of return. Eventually, it'd stopped being a conscious decision, and Nikita had found himself acting as Oran's slave more than a family member.

That was what had brought him here tonight even. A dare. Another foolish attempt to get his brother to stop tormenting him by doing what he was told.

Pathetic.

He was three years older and yet had no backbone against his family, not his brother or his parents, all of whom couldn't give two shits about him on a good day. His father had seen the bruises before, had no doubt heard some of the beatings, but had never said or done anything to acknowledge or intervene.

Nikita had no one, and now it was highly likely he was going to die the same way he'd lived.

Alone.

And on his back.

The only upside, he supposed, was that his killer was a hundred times more attractive than Oran.

Ledger Undergrove was leaner than some of the other Devils, but no less fit. Nikita could feel the muscles on him pressed against his body wherever they touched. He had sharp features and shoulders broad enough that they blocked out some of the high ceiling with him leaning down over him the way he was.

He also looked confused, as though Nikita had just spoken in a foreign language Ledger wasn't familiar with.

"Your brother?" Something about Ledger's voice was different when he spoke next. It was deeper, with a sharp edge to it that had Nikitia's already frayed nerves growing even more frazzled. "What did you do to him to make him want to hurt you?"

He couldn't help it, he snorted. "Exist?"

"Seems a bit extreme."

It sounded like Ledger didn't believe him, but Nikita was used to that.

"He's only my half-brother. He hates me," he said. "They all do. My father for ruining what could have been his perfect, fresh start family. My stepmother for existing in the first place as a reminder of the woman my father used to love. And my brother…Well. He just hates me in general. Always has."

" Only a half-brother. As if that should make a difference." It was hard to tell if he'd heard anything else Nikita had just told him since he seemed so hung up on that one detail. "How old are you?"

"Twenty." It was a fairly young age to die. At least he'd already made his peace with that.

At least that meant he could finally stop hurting.

"You're just a kid."

Nikita actually managed to feel an inkling of offense. "We're practically the same age."

"I'm twenty-two."

"Wow. Two whole years."

"Two years you might not get to live yourself if you aren't careful," he snapped back.

Even though he figured that was where this was headed anyway, Nikita shut his mouth.

Ledger ran hand through his long black hair. It was worn down at the moment, the strands stopping just beneath the curve of his chin, but typically it was up whenever Nikita spotted the Devil around town.

He'd often wondered about it actually. Secretly pictured running his fingers through it.

Crazy shit.

Impossible. Losers like Nikita didn't have the chance to get close to a Devil.

"Okay, let's get down to it," Ledger said. "Why'd you sneak in here? I've never heard of any Orsons, which means they're not members of Club Vigor. Don't try to spin me a story about running from your abusive brother. This place isn't exactly on the beaten path."

The yearly membership for Club Vigor was more than his father made in five years, but that was beside the point. Friction wasn't technically a part of the club, even if it was built on club grounds, so even if Nikita's family had been members, that wouldn't get him off the hook.

"I wouldn't lie to you," Nikita said. "I'm not stupid."

Ledger quirked a brow, the silver piercing through his left eyebrow glittering in the overhead lights. He didn't need to verbally explain what the look was for.

Nikita dropped his gaze. "I'm not usually reckless or a lowlife. This is the dumbest thing I've ever done."

He'd known it was risky, breaking into Friction. But he'd been out of options. The dare had given him an excuse, an extra reason to go through with the asinine plan he'd been concocting for months, if not years, now. It'd become abundantly clear that if he didn't get out, his brother was going to kill him one of these days, and even though it'd been a long time since he'd stopped fearing death, whatever fight had been left in him had demanded he at least try to get away.

At least try to ensure that even if he did die, it would be at the hands of someone other than his brother.

Looked like he was about to get his wish.

Nikita had run from Ledger, but mostly out of instinct. Truth was, even though he expected a bit of doubt, there was none. All he felt was…numb.

Well, that and attraction every time he allowed himself to focus on how hot Ledger was.

"I was looking for something to steal," he admitted softly, still not able to make eye contact as he confessed, a flicker of self-deprecation slipping past the numbness.

Oran might not get the chance to kill him, but he'd won in the end anyway, hadn't he?

He'd turned Nikita into this pathetic, weepy thing. This person who'd break the law for a chance at survival.

"I needed a ticket off planet," he continued. "Enough coin to at least get by for a couple of days wherever I land. Nothing crazy valuable. Just…enough."

"Enough to escape?" Ledger hummed as though he understood. But then, the sharp edge of a blade was lifted to the curve of Nikita's throat. "You're going to get what you want, Tiger. Just maybe not the way you hoped."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"It's on the back of your jacket."

Nikita wasn't following.

"There's a tiger lily."

"Oh." That. "I forgot."

The Devil tugged at the jacket lightly. "What, didn't you pick this out? Twenty is young, but definitely old enough to know how to dress yourself."

"I got it from the Great," Nikita admitted.

"The charity shop on the other side of town?" For a moment, it seemed like he was going to make fun of him, but then he made a sound of approval and ran his fingers across the material over Nikita's heart. "Nice find. Wonder who got rid of something this nice."

"You can have it," he offered.

"It's nice, but don't think it's worth your life."

"No," he shook his head, "that's not what I mean. After you kill me, take it. It's not like I'll need it anymore."

"Ah," Ledger angled the knife to tip Nikita's chin up, forcing him to finally look him in the eye again, "as a way to remember you by?"

Nikita hated the sound of that. "Never mind."

"That upsets you. Why?"

"I'd rather be forgotten." That's what he was used to. But more than that, it'd be better to disappear from existence entirely than be remembered as the fool who broke into Friction. Especially not by Ledger. For whatever reason, the thought of being forever known as the idiot who'd ruined Ledger's night made him actually want to cry. "Actually, please forget I said anything. Just…Can I ask a favor? Can you…bury me somewhere deep."

Let his family assume he'd run away.

Let Oran believe it, too. It wouldn't be as satisfying a revenge as actually doing it, but at least it was something.

"A favor?" Ledger leaned back, moving the knife away in the process. "What makes you think you're worthy of a favor? You're a little thief, and a bad one at that."

"Oh." Right. It was also stupid of him to think a guy like Ledger would take anything he had to say into consideration. His body would most likely end up in a ditch somewhere to be discovered?—

"Let's shelve that for a moment," he interrupted Nikita's thoughts before they could spiral any further. "You are aware I'm threatening to murder you right now, yeah? You're crying, sure, but you don't seem afraid. You just seem…over it."

He was crying?

Ledger had let go of his right wrist to pull the knife on him, and he dared lift his hand to touch the rise of his cheek. It was wet.

Weird.

He didn't feel sad.

"I knew there was a chance I'd get caught when I came here," Nikita replied.

"So what? You're ready to die?"

He shrugged.

Ledger seemed annoyed by that reaction.

"It's not like I have anything worth living for." Saying it out loud made Nikita feel even more pathetic, and he draped his arm over his face to shield himself as he felt his cheeks start to burn. "My family won't help me. They think it's my fault. Oran's convinced them of it."

"What's your fault?"

"The debts."

"Thought you said you were stealing so you could run away?" his tone sounded accusatory.

"I was!" Nikita insisted. "Why should I be responsible for paying off debts that aren't mine?" His wrist was recaptured and his arm was wrenched away, the tip of the knife back on his chin a second later.

"Why should you die for someone else's arrogance, either?"

"It's my only choice." Now that he'd failed at stealing anything and had gotten caught… "There's no way out."

The Devil paused, mulling something over, and then suggested in a breezy voice, "What if I offered you another? Hmm? You wanted a favor? I'll grant you one, but it'll be of my choosing. What do you say, Tiger? Willing to take the risk? It's got to be better than dying outright, especially for someone who sounds like they don't deserve it. If you're going to give your life away, might as well give it to someone who can do something with it."

"You're talking about me as if I'm a commodity," he blurted before he could help it.

"You are," Ledger agreed. "But whether or not you're a precious one is up to me to decide. If you take my offer, that is. Otherwise, I'll slit your throat and be done with it. Believe it or not, I've got things to do, and handling a thief was not on the night's scheduled program."

Nikita had just said he didn't have a choice but…did this one really even count? From the sounds of it, he was still going to die either way. Why bother making things harder for himself if he was going to meet his end tonight no matter what?

"Did you always give up this easily?" Ledger asked. "No wonder your brother thinks he can get away with treating you like trash. It's because you let him."

"No, I don't." At least, he hadn't always. When things had gotten really bad in their teens, Nikita had tried to defend himself, verbally at first, and then physically, once he'd realized his father wasn't ever going to be the one to protect him. But even though he was older than Oran, he never really stood a chance against him.

They were of similar build and height, and before Oran had joined the Academy, where they trained cadets to become soldiers, he'd been skilled enough to hold his own against him. But if he ever did land a punch, he was the one punished. It didn't matter if he was also covered in cuts and bruises or how many times he insisted Oran had started it.

If his stepmother's baby had so much as a paper cut, there was hell to pay. And Nikita was the one who paid it.

"Okay," he said. "I'll take the offer." Mostly because he'd realized Ledger was right. He'd given up on himself and everything else. "Every time I try to change things, I end up ten times worse off than I started. What's one more gamble in the grand scheme of things?"

Ledger grinned. "Cute way of putting it."

He ignored that. "What do I have to do to survive this night?"

"Simple." The Devil lifted off of him but kept a foot planted at either side of Nikita's hips. "Fuck me for it."

Nikita sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"

"Your life," Ledger reiterated. "You were going to throw it away anyway, right? Let me fuck you instead. If you're any good, you get to walk out of here scot-free. If you're not…"

He thought for sure he was joking, but when Ledger's expression never cracked, Nikita realized he was being serious. His heart started racing, but before he could decide whether or not that was due to excitement or anxiety, he was hauled up onto his feet.

When the Devil kissed him, it felt like that organ in his chest might explode.