Sadistic Mates

Chapter 4

The past week flies by in a blur. I arrive at the café, unlocking the door as Lisa stands outside with a cigarette between her fingers. She isn't alone, though. Orion leans against the hood of his car, looking annoyingly graceful for someone his size.

Lisa heads inside to switch everything on—deep fryers, coffee machine, the works—while I drop my bag and crouch to unlock the front shutters. The first padlock clicks open easily. The second jams.

I wiggle the key, frowning. “Seriously?”

“Let me try,” Orion says, crouching beside me. He grips the lock, forcing the key. It sticks—until a loud snap makes me jump. The padlock clatters to the ground.

“Whoops,” he says with a mischievous grin. I arch an eyebrow and hold out my hand. He drops the keys into my palm, his fingers grazing my wrist.

The spark hits instantly—hot and sharp, shooting up my arm like static electricity. I yank my hand back, unsettled. He just smiles, slow and lazy, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Lisa reappears and tosses me my apron. “Cheap bloody locks. I’m heading to the store for bread—need anything?”

“Yeah, smokes,” I say, digging into my bag and handing her some cash. She nods and disappears down the street.

I toss the broken lock in the trash and slip behind the counter to fire up the coffee machine. Three mugs later—two for us, one for him—I hand Orion his and try not to notice how he keeps watching me.

“Must you always stare?” I ask, opening the register to slide in the cash tray.

“No harm in looking,” he replies smoothly.

I roll my eyes just as Lisa walks in and tosses me a pack of cigarettes. “When are you going to get your own ID?”

“One day. Maybe. If I ever get a day off.”

“You’re the only person I know who didn’t rush to get their ID the minute they turned legal. Don’t you go out? Party? Date?”

“To do what?” I shrug, turning away.

“Drink. Live. Be a normal person in your twenties?”

“I prefer my own company.”

She leans on the counter. “Why?”

The question throws me. Lisa rarely pries. Her life’s an open book, but mine? I prefer mine locked shut.

“Because I don’t like people,” I joke, trying to keep it light.

She gasps mock-offended. “You don’t like me?”

“You’re different. I know you.”

“Okay, and that still makes no sense. Try again.”

I glance at Orion. He’s pretending not to listen, but I can feel his attention locked on me.

“It’s easier that way,” I say, voice quieter now. “No point making friends who’ll just leave when they figure out you’ve got nothing to offer.”

Lisa blinks. “Well. That’s depressing.”

“It’s true,” I reply, turning away as the bell over the door chimes. A customer. Perfect timing.

Orion follows me around the café, his presence constant, and it starts to get under my skin. I finally step outside for a cigarette, hoping he won’t follow.

Lisa doesn’t seem to mind him being here. That’s probably because he tips big—and I mean big. Still, his presence here, in this part of the city, doesn’t make sense. He’s obviously wealthy, polished, and doesn’t fit in. I sit on the milk crate, lighting my smoke.

“Don’t you have a job or something?” I ask, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Why are you always hanging around?”

He crosses his arms, muscles flexing under his fitted shirt. “Lisa doesn’t seem to mind.”

“That’s because you leave hundred-dollar tips. It makes me wonder—why this neighborhood?”

He doesn’t answer. His gaze stays fixed on me.

“Did you really mean what you said in there?” he asks. “That people just disappoint you?”

“Yeah. Look at the city, the world. Everything’s gone to shit.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I sigh. “Then yes. I do believe that.”

“Why?”

“That’s none of your business. And maybe don’t listen in on people’s private conversations next time.”

“You’ve got an attitude, you know that?” he says, stepping closer.

“And you’re in my personal space. Again.” I stand, flick my smoke into the ashtray, and move to walk past him—he catches my arm and pulls me gently back.

He leans in, close enough that I feel his breath ghost over my lips. His proximity makes my heart stutter in my chest. I forget how to breathe, thrown off by how painfully good-looking he is up close.

“Does my closeness bother you?” he murmurs, voice like velvet. His fingers trail down my arm, and tingles erupt across my skin. His other hand slides around my waist, pulling me tight against his chest. I gasp as a rush of heat floods through me, his scent making my head spin. He smells too good—like smoke and something darker, something unnameable that makes my mouth water.

A low chuckle rumbles through him, vibrating against my chest. Then Lisa’s voice calls for me, snapping me out of the daze. I pull away, flustered, and step around him, hurrying inside.

What the hell just came over me?

Lisa is swamped at the counter, and I jump in to help. Orders pile up, and Orion fades into the corner, watching quietly. Strangely, his presence doesn’t rattle me the way it did at first. He’s become part of the background, a fixture in this strange new routine.

The café picks up, and time blurs. I clean tables, balancing a full tray of dishes, ready to take them out back when the bell over the door rings. I glance up—and freeze.

Two men stand in the doorway, peering around until their eyes land on me.

My breath catches. Panic claws its way up my throat. My heart pounds, so loud it echoes in my ears. My hands tremble. My vision narrows. Adrenaline floods my veins, locking my knees in place. The tray slips from my grip and crashes to the floor, shattering with a deafening crash.

Lisa’s scream echoes behind me.

“s**t, Evelyn, are you okay?” she rushes to my side, kneeling beside me as I fumble to pick up shards of glass with trembling hands.

“Evelyn, stop, you’re bleeding,” she says sharply, pulling my hands up. Blood trickles from shallow cuts across my fingers and palms. I didn’t even feel it.

The world spins. My chest tightens. My vision swims. I can’t breathe. Everything slows down except for the erratic thump of my heart. I’m having a panic attack.

It’s them.

The men from the alley.

I feel Orion approach and gently take the tray from my hands. Lisa grabs my arms and hauls me to my feet, leading me out back. Orion follows.

Lisa rifles through my bag, hands shaking. I try to ground myself, to breathe, and focus, but everything’s a blur.

She opens my bloody hand, places two small pills into it, and hands me a glass of water.

“Valium,” she tells Orion. “She has panic attacks sometimes.”

Within minutes, my heart rate begins to settle. The fog clears enough for me to rinse my hands, wincing at the sting. I bandage the cuts, the pain oddly comforting.

When I return to the dining area, Orion is by my side, and the two men are still there, seated now—watching me.

Lisa touches my shoulder gently. “Where did everyone go?” she asks.

I don’t answer. My eyes remain locked on the three men.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

I nod stiffly.

“You should go home. I’ll call Miranda—see if she can come in. Go rest, Evelyn. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I hesitate. It’s been months since my last attack. I nod slowly, taking my bag from her. “Thanks,” I mumble.

The walk home is a blur of buzzing thoughts and pounding heartbeat. When I get back to my van, I collapse on the bed, close my eyes—and then there’s a knock at the door.

I glance through the window.

Orion.

Groaning, I unlock the door. “How do you know where I live?”

“Lisa,” he says with a shrug. He leans against the rail, watching me.

“Are you going to invite me in? Or should I wait in the cold?”

I sigh and open the door wider. He ducks under the low frame and steps inside. I shift awkwardly, suddenly aware of how small my space is.

“What do you want?”

“To check on you,” he says, looking around.

“I’m fine. You can go now.”

He steps closer, and I instinctively back away.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into him. My heart races. I shove him, and he steps back, surprise flickering across his face.

“How do you know those two men?” I demand.

“They’re my mates.”

“Mates?” I blink. “You have friends like that?”

“My idea of mates and yours are clearly different.”

“They… they killed someone.”

“They what?” he asks, stepping forward.

“Never mind. You need to leave.”

Before he can answer, footsteps echo outside. My blood runs cold. They’re here.

The two men from the café step into my van. I scream and try to run, but Orion grabs me.

“Calm down, Evelyn—they won’t hurt you.”

I bite his hand. He lets go, and I sprint for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My breath comes in short bursts as I scan for a way out. The window.

I unlatch it, climbing halfway through—then hands grab my hips and yank me back inside. I scream. A hand covers my mouth.

“Shhh. We won’t hurt you,” a voice whispers in my ear. “Promise not to scream if I let go?”

Tears blur my vision. I nod.

He lifts his hand, and I scream anyway. He growls and clamps it back down.

“Put her in the car,” a voice orders.

The man drags me through the hallway. Orion stands calmly at the table.

“They won’t hurt you, Evelyn. I promise. We’ll explain everything when we get you home.”

Home? What does that mean?

I thrash in his grip, fighting with everything I have. He huffs, irritated. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

I go limp, hoping to slip free.

“Hard way it is.”

He grabs my ankle, pulling me toward him. I kick him in the face. He growls, grabs both wrists, and lifts me, pressing me to his chest.

I scream as his head dips to my neck—and pain slices through me as his teeth sink in. My vision swims, and everything goes dark.