Page 116 of Coveted By Cupid

Did Cupid find the other traffickers and kill them too?

My mind drifts back to the bedroom where Cupid rutted me into the sheets hours ago like a wild beast claiming its mate, much like the last time.

Yes, he definitely killed one of those remaining men, if not all of them. He sleeps soundly because they’re no longer a threat to me. I don’t need confirmation from Cupid to know my theory is correct.

As much as I want to go back to the bedroom and curl around him, whispering a thank you with kisses, I need to get ready for class. Living an extra thirty-plus minutes from campus means I have less time to lounge around in the mornings. I’ll show Cupid how much I appreciate him when I come back home this evening.

Showered and dressed for the day, including my property cut, I breeze through my routine.

Last night, Romy stopped by with a bag full of regular makeup for me to use instead of the corpse foundation and showed me how to layer and blend to hide my fading bruise on my forehead. I’m applying the final touches on my contusion when my phone pings with a text message.

Romy’s name flashes across the screen, along with an image I barely glance at before opening my messages.

The mortician is a sweet woman—kind of quirky in her emo way. It’s easy to see why Crypt is enamored with her. Romy fits right into his dark aesthetic. She’s probably checking in to make sure I’m doing okay with my cover-up.

Opening my text thread with her, I see the image and gasp. It’s a picture of Romy, gagged and restrained to a steel medical table. She looks panicked, her eyes enlarged with distress and tears staining her fair skin.

My hand flies to my mouth to muffle my cry when I read the text message accompanying the photo.

If you don’t want your friend to be pumped full of embalming fluid, you need to come to the funeral home NOW.

I frantically type out a reply, my fingers trembling.

Who are you?

The response is almost instantaneous.

Vanessa Baby, you know who I am.

Only one person calls me Vanessa Baby.

My mind can’t compute as I type out the name I never would have suspected would do something as atrocious as threatening harm on an innocent person.

Boden?

Ding, ding, ding! You guessed right. Now, get your fine ass over here ASAP. I’ve waited too long for your return. You won’t like the consequences if you make me wait any longer.

My feet are already moving to the bedroom to wake Cupid and tell him Romy is in danger when my phone pings with another text, halting me in place.

If you tell anyone where you’re going, I’ll kill her. If you bring anyone with you, I’ll kill her. You say nothing to anyone and come alone. If not…

Another image comes through my cell. The photo shows his hand pointing a handgun at Romy’s temple. Her head is turned away, eyes squeezed shut as if she expects him to pull the trigger.

My fingers are shaking as I quickly type a response.

Don’t hurt her! I’m on my way.

Good. See you soon.

Sick to my stomach, I shove my cell into my jeans. I stare at Cupid lying peacefully in our bed, oblivious to what is happening. More than anything, I want to tell him, to let him know I can’t stand by and watch Boden hurt an innocent person. I’d never be able to live with myself if Romy got hurt because I didn’t follow my ex’s rules.

Hustling out of the bedroom as quietly as I can, I shove my feet into my Converse. I go to open the apartment’s main door, only to hear Cookie whistling a tune in the stairwell and his shadow creeping up the wall.

Shit! Cookie’s coming up the stairs. He’ll stop me for sure.

Quickly, I close the door before the prospect comes into view. Cookie won’t come inside the apartment until it’s closer to when we need to leave, preferring to hang out on the third-floor landing. I still have time to escape another way.

Heading for the kitchen, I go to the back door leading to the fire escape. My heart is jackhammering in my chest as I peek out the door window to see if any of Cupid’s men are out in the alley.