Castle of days, p.47
Fiendish Ways (Damaged Devils Book 5), page 47
Fiendish Ways
Damaged Devils #5
Charity Parkerson
Punk & Sissy Publications
Copyright
The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not take part in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Brief passages may be quoted for review purposes if credit is given to the copyright holder. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Any resemblances to person(s) living or dead, is completely coincidental. All items contained within this novel are products of the author’s imagination.
—Warning: This book is intended for readers over the age of 18. Some of my books contain allusions to past abuse and trauma.
Copyright © 2023 Charity Parkerson
Editor: BZ Hercules & Consultants
Cover art: Temptation Creations
All rights reserved.
Contents
Author Note
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
1. About the Author
Content
Author Note
This is a dark romance series filled with possible triggers. If you need a list, you can skip to the content warning after the About the Author page or check my website: charityparkerson.com/damaged-devils
Introduction
In a moment of rare heroism, Cree rescued a beautiful blond stray. It was the dumbest move he’s ever made.
A few months back, while tailing someone for his boss, Cree rolled right into a domestic dispute. As someone raised by monsters, he can’t stand idly by while a tiny sprite gets beaten down by a behemoth. When he stepped in, he planned to take care of business and move along. Instead, he walks face first into the greatest love of his life… and the thing that might completely destroy him.
Nebraska’s whole life has been exhausting. When he ends up living with complete strangers, hundreds of miles from home, he should be terrified. Instead, it’s the lightest he’s felt in years. The problem is they’re all killers and generally bad men. He knows he’s not free to leave. Not alive, anyway. Yet Nebraska has never felt safer, and he can’t shake the one heated gaze that follows him everywhere. He’s never been happier. Now all he has to do is survive… and make his surly bodyguard fall in love with him. No pressure.
Fiendish Ways is the fifth book in Charity Parkerson’s Damaged Devils series. These are dark romance stories with crime lords, assassins, and sociopaths who find their hearts. They are best enjoyed when read in order.
Chapter One
How it began…
Three months ago.
His face stung. Nebraska already knew from experience he wouldn’t be able to see out of his left eye by the end of the day. As always, he didn’t even know what set off his dad’s tirade. Nebraska had just been doing as told, trying to help sort through their things in storage. Then his dad had mumbled to himself about Nebraska being useless. Nebraska had immediately decided to walk away. He had known exactly where things would go from there. Hate-filled words had been hurled at his back. Boxes started flying. One hit him in the back of neck and head, unbalancing him. Then his dad’s fists had started flying. The way they always did.
Nebraska didn’t fight back. That never failed to make things worse. He tried to stay still, calm, and hope things ended fast. His dad disappeared. Nebraska blinked. He was still too disoriented to focus. His gaze moved around the room, hunting for the next strike. Except his dad was three feet off the ground. A beefy arm choked the life from him. His purple face got darker by the second. He flailed helplessly against the man who held him with ease. Nebraska couldn’t move. All he could do was stare. His dad was huge. No one ever challenged him. This guy was bigger. Sweat didn’t even coat his brow from the struggle.
The man’s blue gaze locked onto Nebraska. He looked cold. A chill ran down Nebraska’s spine. “Are you okay?”
Even though it wasn’t true, Nebraska nodded.
“Good. Please step outside.”
He was so calm. So polite. Nebraska didn’t even hesitate to do as he asked. His feet carried him outside. Something tickled his face. Nebraska brushed it away and realized he was bleeding. With no other choice, he peeled off his shirt and used it to pinch his nose. He always had the worst nosebleeds once they started. They took forever to stop. His thoughts were strange. They were scattered but calm. In his heart, Nebraska understood that only feet away, some guy probably killed his father. Maybe it was shock, but Nebraska felt nothing. He was completely unbothered. Harold James had been begging to die badly for as long as Nebraska could recall. He was violent and heartless. When Nebraska’s mom had died, and he had been sent to live with his dad, he had tried begging for foster care. His parents had been divorced for a reason. There had been a restraining order for a reason. His dad hadn’t been given visitation for a reason. No one listened. CPS was overworked and the foster care system already had their hands full. Nebraska had a place to go, so that was where he went. Now he was nineteen and could have left last year, except no, he couldn’t. Harold wouldn’t let him go. So Nebraska felt nothing.
It seemed as if hours had passed before his savior reappeared. He quietly closed the door on the storage unit before meeting Nebraska’s stare. “What’s your name?”
“Nebraska,” Nebraska mumbled around the shirt.
The man moved closer. He took the shirt from Nebraska and checked beneath. With the softest touch, he wiped Nebraska’s face. “I’m Cree. You weren’t part of my plan today, Nebraska. I still have a job to do. You’re not bleeding any longer.” He didn’t back away. Nebraska kept staring up at him, mesmerized, as Cree spoke. “I can’t leave you behind. For one, you’ve seen my face. Second, if this is a common occurrence, you’ll be the first person the cops question when they can’t find this piece of shit.”
“Oh.” Nebraska didn’t know what else to say. “I doubt anyone except the bar owner down the street will miss him. He hasn’t worked in years, and he doesn’t have any friends.”
Cree nodded. “Still. I’m not a man who takes chances… or hostages. Will you willing get in the SUV behind you?”
Nebraska glanced over his shoulder. A black SUV sat parked at his back. His gaze slid back to the giant who saved him. “Yes.” It was funny. Nebraska knew it was likely the man intended to kill him and dispose of his body. Yet he still agreed. He also wasn’t scared, but Nebraska didn’t move. His gaze refused to give up the sight of Cree.
Cree’s features softened.
The air left Nebraska’s lungs in a stuttering whoosh.
“You’re safe now.”
Was he? Because Nebraska didn’t care at all. He just wanted to stay with Cree.
Chapter Two
Present day…
Nebraska’s best friend growing up, Amelia, had always said he was too innocent and trusting. She claimed he would end up dead in a ditch someday. If Nebraska’s dad hadn’t destroyed their friendship, she would probably chastise him for his current living situation. He had been staying with complete strangers nearly five hundred miles from everything he knew for three months now. They hadn’t killed him and left him in a ditch yet.
The thing about him was, it wasn’t that he was innocent and trusting. That was something Amelia had never understood. He had seen too much heartache to be truly innocent, and he wasn’t here because he had been too trusting. Nebraska was desperate. Being at absolute rock bottom changed a person’s outlook. He didn’t have the luxury to worry about trust. Nebraska needed to survive, and he couldn’t leave Cree. Not that he thought he would be allowed to leave anyhow.
Three men crowded into the kitchen where Nebraska enjoyed his cereal. All three had visible weapons. Nebraska tucked in closer to his bowl and ignored their chatter. The house belonged to Archer Woods. From what Nebraska gathered in his three-month stay, Cree was Archer’s bodyguard. He didn’t know why he needed guarding. Nebraska didn’t ask, and no one offered explanations. He considered taking his cereal to his room. Everyone ignored him. Nebraska got more nervous by the second. He tried making himself smaller. Everyone was so fucking big. Big men with weapons reminded him too much of his dad. Nebraska had learned years ago to be quiet and invisible. He kept his eyes on his bowl.
Warms hands landed on his shoulders. Nebraska drew a deep breath. He hadn’t seen Cree in a few days. Cree had gone out of town with Archer. Nebraska didn’t know where. He never asked questions. But he immediately recognized Cree’s hands and Nebraska had missed them. Nebraska could never say that.
Warm lips moved closer to his ear. “Why are you eating breakfast at one o’clock in the afternoon?”
Nebraska fought a smile. “The thought of regular food made me feel sick.”
Cree pulled out the chair beside him and met his stare.
Those blue eyes owned him. “Are you having another Crohn’s flare up?”
It was embarrassing, but Cree had found him on the floor, curled up and crying a month after moving him in. From there, Cree had been privy to all of Nebraska’s embarrassing medical issues. He nodded. “It’s not so bad this time, but I’m having trouble eating.”
“Have you been taking your meds?”
Nebraska shook his head. “I ran out before you left town, and I didn’t have any way to get them filled.”
Irritation crossed Cree’s features. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Nebraska went back to staring at his cereal. The pain in his stomach was building to unbearable again, making him sensitive. “Archer doesn’t like it when I bother you. Plus, I already feel like a burden.”
Cree pushed Nebraska’s bowl away, forcing him to look Cree’s way. “Come on. Let’s take care of this before you’re incapacitated.”
“You just got home.”
Cree made a show of dropping his gaze to the way Nebraska white-knuckled the edge of the table. Nebraska pried his fingers away and clasped his hands in his lap. A cold sweat coated his skin. With a shake of his head, Cree easily plucked Nebraska from his chair and headed down the hall. He paused as he passed a housekeeper.
“Will you grab an ice pack for me?”
The lady nodded, and Cree kept moving. “You relax with an ice pack, and I’ll run to the pharmacy.”
Nebraska stared up at Cree from his spot in Cree’s arms. “Always the hero.”
Cree snorted.
Nebraska hid a smile against Cree’s chest at the sound. Just being in Cree’s arms made him feel a tad better. He knew Cree would fix everything. That was what Cree did. He made Nebraska better.
Even though Cree didn’t know how to say it, he resented the days of working that took him away from Nebraska. They had a unique relationship. From the moment Cree brought Nebraska home, he had become like a dragon hoarding his treasure—or a white lady with a stray dog. He wanted to put Nebraska in soft pajamas and give him treats.
Cree couldn’t explain what happened or when. At first, Cree had only felt mild pity for Nebraska. Then he had noticed Nebraska’s green eyes were pretty in the sunlight and his curly hair looked soft. His first breaking point had been the day he found Nebraska curled in a tight ball and silently crying. Nebraska had refused to make a sound, as if he worried being any sort of nuisance would get him hurt. Cree had immediately called in a private doctor. He had also hovered like an old mother hen the entire time. Cree didn’t like to talk about that, while Archer loved bringing up that part. Now Nebraska hurt again, and Cree hated it. He had to make him better.
Cree headed up the stairs and to his bedroom. He had kept Nebraska in his room since bringing him home. That had been an order straight from Archer. If Cree wanted to keep Nebraska—like a stray dog—he had to keep the boy in his room, out of everyone’s hair, and watch him so he didn’t escape. They couldn’t risk Nebraska telling anyone anything he saw there. Cree knew better, though. Nebraska had nowhere to go, no money, and no family. He wouldn’t run away. Still, Cree did as told. He set Nebraska on the bed they shared and then plugged in the heating pad. Nebraska needed to do ice for a few minutes first and then rotate to heat. While that might not work for everyone, that seemed to work best for Nebraska until Cree could get meds in him. They had a lot of practice trying different things to soothe his pain. It had taken weeks for Nebraska to find relief from the pills. He supposed it had to build up in his system, but still, that whole month had been hell.
Someone knocked on the door. Cree raced to answer. Thankfully, it was the ice pack he requested. Cree snagged it and mumbled his thanks before quickly returning to Nebraska’s side. He passed it Nebraska’s way, since he didn’t know where the worst of the pain was located.
Nebraska flashed him a grateful smile.
Cree pulled out his phone and called in a favor.
King answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, King. Can I get you to make a pharmacy run for me?”
“Sure. I’m already at the store for Angel.”
“Thank God. Can you grab Nebraska’s script? He’s in a lot of pain.”
“Sure. There are also some pain meds in my room, if he needs them.”
“Thanks. I’ll check your stash.”
“See you in a few.”
King disconnected the call and Cree put his phone in his pocket. “I’ll be right back.” He rushed from the room and across the hall to King’s room. King hadn’t been living with them for long. Most of his things were still in boxes. He had been hired—at first—to protect one of Archer’s assets. Since that job ended, he had come to live with Archer to give Cree more time off during the week. Cree appreciated the help. Even though Archer didn’t jet around the country the way he had before he married, Cree still had to be on duty way more than most before King came onboard. Cree liked the guy, but King did like his pills. Not only was Cree not one to judge, but he was also grateful today. He easily found something strong to help Nebraska. Cree hurried back to their room.
After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge in their room, he hurried back to Nebraska’s side. “Here. Take one of these.”
Proving how much pain he was in, Nebraska didn’t question a thing. He swallowed the pill and settled back down. “Thank you.”
Cree didn’t need to be thanked. He needed Nebraska to get better. “Scoot over.”
Nebraska winced as he made room for Cree beside him. Cree settled on his side next to Nebraska and gently rubbed the spot below the ice pack. He felt how shallow Nebraska’s breaths were, as if he measured each one to mitigate the pain.
Cree pressed his lips to Nebraska’s temple. “Just relax. Close your eyes. I’ve got you.”
“This has to be one of the most embarrassing pains in the world and you always treat me like… I don’t know how to explain it. Like it’s not.”
That was on Nebraska’s youth. Everyone else knew there was no reason for Nebraska to be embarrassed. Cree didn’t say that. “It’s not. I know you’re in severe pain. It doesn’t matter what causes it. I’m here to help.”
“Thank God.”
Cree smiled at the open relief in Nebraska’s voice. That was what made him Cree’s biggest addiction. He had never been the hero. Cree had been born into poverty and sold to an assassin program. After being tortured into becoming a hired killer, he had done the job he had been trained to do. He protected crime lords, and killed and tortured people. Cree wasn’t the protagonist. He was the villain. Not with Nebraska. For the first time, Cree had rescued someone and kept him safe. He had nurtured life. Nebraska never looked at him with fear. He gave Cree a place to be soft.
Cree heard Nebraska’s breathing deepen. The ice pack slipped. Cree snagged it and set it aside before dragging the heating pad across Nebraska’s stomach. He went back to holding him and stole his chance to stare. Nebraska was adorable. He always filled Cree’s chest and melted him. There was a smattering of light freckles across the bridge of Nebraska’s nose. He looked incredibly young and vulnerable. Nebraska was those things. Cree had over twenty years on the guy. No doubt Nebraska only saw him as a father figure. Cree told himself that was for the best. He was a bad person and Nebraska deserved someone kind. Still, Cree enjoyed these moments when he got to quietly dream. No one and nothing else brought him peace. Holding Nebraska gave him that. Cree didn’t want their time together to end.
The pain had—thankfully—passed. Between the pain meds and King slipping into the room to give him his Crohn’s medication, Nebraska felt much better. For at least an hour, Nebraska savored watching Cree sleep. On his side, facing Cree, Nebraska’s gaze stayed locked on Cree. Even in his sleep, he was hard. Cree probably scared small children. Nebraska wondered how many people Cree had killed. He didn’t doubt it had been several. Nebraska also wondered what it said about him he didn’t care. He had never felt safer.
