Silly Girl Read Online Free Page B

must, or you wouldn’t have made it this far.”
    She had to admit he was quite the charmer, despite his slippery reputation.
    The flames towered higher. Why had she agreed to come on this ride anyway? Was she crazy? She had never—that she was aware—made any bargains with the devil.
    Amanda reached for the carriage door. Just as quickly, Lucifer’s scarlet hand engulfed hers.
    “Seen enough already?”
    “Mommy’s calling for dinner,” she said.
    “Amanda Dear, always so full of life,” he said. “Do give her my best, will you? I think about her a lot, you know? Many of whom you’ve acquainted yourself with as well.”
    Again, he mixed dementia with charm when he smiled. “In fact,” Satan said. “I’m supposed to be meeting her for tea in half an hour.” He looked down at his arm, and for some ridiculous reason, a cheap, digital wristwatch adorned his wrist.
    The carriage stopped, and Amanda opened the door. It surprised her he was willing to consent.
    “You run along now, Amanda Dear,” he said. “I have more fish to fry. We’ll see each other again, I have no doubt. I, too, can be equally patient.”
    “I’m sure you can,” she said.
    Amanda Dear stepped into the flames. They did not devour and consume her, of course, because she didn’t have flesh. She had a bit of merit here in the afterlife.
    Behind her, the pitch black of space consumed the carriage. Satan’s tail, trailing out the window, vanished in the dark.
    All she wanted was Wesley.
    Wesley, darling? Where art thou? My big, beautiful lion, my protective soldier? Where hast thou gone?
    They talked like Old English poets sometimes when they were together. Wesley had started it, like a game. Trying to sound like Shakespeare, she presumed. Wesley had always liked Shakespeare.
    Amanda didn’t realize how much security she needed. That was what Wesley provided. She thought it ironic, too, it was what he did for a living.

    *

    Wesley had been a security guard. They shared an apartment together in Boulder, Colorado. Whenever Amanda thought about Wesley, she was always close, either in his arms or about to be. Why did life with him feel so different? It was as if she had another existence besides Amanda Dear. Did she have a twin?
    Snowflakes, the size of silver dollars, fell outside the living room window, leaving a white canopy across every rooftop, lawn, tree, and automobile.
    Wesley was in the kitchen making cocoa. He’d just come home from work from Detail Oriented, a warehouse specializing in auto design, airplane decal, and other artwork for various forms of transportation. He was still wearing the uniform. Wesley looked like a police officer without the gun.
    “Hey, my big polar bear of a man,” Amanda said, smiling at Wesley from the couch. She was wearing the cashmere sweater Wesley had bought her for Christmas three days ago. White cotton panties were visible between her appreciable thighs. She was sitting with her legs up on the coach, feet tucked under her—also—appreciable bottom. “I’ve been a very bad girl. I think I need to be punished. If you lock me up, I’ll let you do what you want. Just be rough and savage. It’s the only way I can really get excited. That’s all I ask.”
    Wesley took two ceramic, baby blue coffee mugs into the living room. He handed one to Amanda Dear and set the other on the coffee table. He sat on the sofa next to her. His eyes sparkled when he smiled.
    “It’s not that kind of uniform,” Wesley said. “And I’ll do anything I want anyway. When you’re with me, sweetheart, you play by the only rulebook in the house. Mine.”
    Amanda laughed and shook her head. “You get so many bad guys,” she played along. “Wherever do you put them?”
    “I frisk them for devices that might later be useful to you. I take them anyway I can get them. I own them. I beat and destroy. I make sure they never forget with whom they’re dealing. I’m easy-going as long as you let me. If you cross the