Unholy Intent (Unholy Union 2)

He killed his brother. His twin brother. Even if Lucas was crazy, even if Damian had no choice, he still pushed the knife into his brother’s belly and felt the blood spill from him.

And this is a man who has kept his emotions hidden for years. For all his life, probably. A man used to being on his own. Alone. Always alone.

The thought is unsettling. I don’t like it.

It’s been six days since the night our world collapsed around us. Crashed down onto us in a fire built of rage and fury and despair and too much hate.

“Hey.” He doesn’t smile. I see how his gaze darkens as it moves from the bandage on my arm to where they removed the tracker and finally to my neck. I know it’s bruised. I’ve seen it. Can feel how tender it is.

“Are they releasing you?” I ask, surprised. I thought I’d be out earlier than him.

“I’ve released myself.” The emotion I just saw is gone, masked. Shuttered. Shutting me out.

“What?”

“I have to take care of some things. How are you feeling?”

I shrug a shoulder, something heavy settling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m okay. Sit down.”

“I can’t stay.”

A lump forms in my throat. Swallowing it is harder than I imagine it should be. “What do you mean you can’t stay?”

I stare up at his closed-off eyes. They give nothing away.

He sets a large envelope on the table beside the bed.

“What’s that?”

“My promise.”

I look from the envelope to him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for what he did to you. For what happened to you because of me.”

“Damian, that wasn’t—”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you like I promised but…” He gestures to the envelope. “I can keep one promise.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can stay at the penthouse as long as you need. Details are in the envelope. Everything is taken care of. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Damian, I don’t—”

“I need to go.” He checks his watch.

When he takes a step away, I sit upright and push the blanket from me. “Where?”

He comes back to me, sits on the edge of the bed, and softly brushes hair back from my face. He gives me a sad smile.

“I’m finally doing what’s best for you. What’s really best for you. It’s the first unselfish thing I’ve done when it comes to you.”

He leans closer and I see is the sadness in his eyes. It runs deep. An abyss of it. And I feel the cracking of my heart.

I open my mouth to say his name, to tell him I understand. To say anything at all. But he cups the back of my head and presses his lips to my forehead.

Closing my eyes, I place my hand on his cheek as a tear slips down my face.

This is his goodbye. I know it.

He draws back, hand still on the back of my head. He looks at me for a long minute. And what I see in his eyes breaks my heart in two.

Regret. Sadness. Too much of it.

And me on the outside.31DamianI need to keep my promise. I need to do one right thing.

And as hard as it is, walking away is the only way to do that. But it takes all I have to follow through.

I get up and walk out of the room. Closing that door behind me feels like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind. I think it’s my heart.

Coward.

Tobias falls into step beside me as we make our way out of the hospital.

“I have two of our best soldiers guarding her. She’ll be fine.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

My promise to her, is it a lie? A selfish lie told only to protect myself?

“The Clementis are at the warehouse,” Tobias continues.

Business. I have to get to the business of my revenge. Show my enemies what happens when you cross me.

“Good,” I say, sounding a little harder as I feel the familiar stone walls erect themselves around me. As hard as it is, as painful, I have to keep thoughts of the way I found her at the forefront of my mind. Keep the image of her with that rope around her neck burned on my brain. Feel the weight of her limp body in my arms as I carried her out of that house.

I don’t have to work hard to remember the sensation of my heart twisting when I’d thought I was too late. When I’d thought she was gone.

And I can’t think about how she looks in that bed in the other room. Small and vulnerable and sad. I just have to remember the angry bruises around her throat and be grateful that Lucas was wrong. That I didn’t break her. At least not so much that she couldn’t be put back together again.

This is better for her. Safer. I need to let her go because nothing changes with Lucas gone. My business will be rebuilt. My enemies will not lessen.