But after all I’ve endured, nothing can truly shock me. Not now. With one last fleeting gaze, I sneak back into the guest room, grab my backpack, and go into the attached bathroom.
After showering and dressing, I hear a loud commotion outside my door. The guy from yesterday—Hero, I think—runs out of Damon’s room like a madman. His shoulder bumps into mine. Luckily, I’m close to the wall, otherwise I’d be sprawled out on the floor from the force.
Damon appears from his room a moment later, fully dressed, a look of annoyance on his face.
Where the hell are they going?
“Stay here, don’t touch anything, and don’t try to leave. If you do, I’ll find you, and if you thought I was bad yesterday, you haven’t seen a damn thing, sweetheart.”
I gulp down my fear, attempting to hide the feelings he draws out of me. This is the guy I met at the club, not the one I saw last night in his room. Why is he acting this way? Why is he pretending to be someone he clearly isn’t?
With his mask fully in place, he walks away, leaving me a mess of misunderstanding and confusion. I decide then that Damon might have everyone else fooled, but after getting a glimpse of him—the real him—I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to see him the same again.
Chapter 6
Damon
When I went to bed last night, I thought I’d had the equivalent of a shitty day. But fuck me sideways, today has been far fucking worse. In all the years I’ve been selling drugs, running Night Shift, and pimping girls out, I’ve never seen as much pain as I have today.
Hero is a friend, a damn good one, but seeing him find Elyse the way he did, the anguish in his eyes, the despair…it stabbed me in my nonexistent heart. I’ve seen my fair share of violence…hell, I’ve done most of the killing, but what I experienced today…I don’t think there will be any topping that for a while.
Pulling into the driveway of my house, I realize Keira is still here, and that she’s been here all fucking morning and afternoon alone.
Fuck! She may have ran. Fear swims through her veins all the time. It wouldn’t surprise me if I found her gone.
My thoughts shift, remembering the look in her eyes last night as she let me pull her into my arms. She was scared, terrified, afraid of something. I don’t know, I didn’t bother asking, but I could see it in her eyes.
She wanted my protection, practically came begging me for it, and I promised her I’d give it to her without hurting her or demanding a damn blowjob.
Why did I turn her down? I grind my teeth together, as if doing so will draw an answer out of me. I don’t fucking know why. Maybe it was the weed or the booze or the combination of the two that got the thing in my chest to work like I told it not to—or maybe I didn’t want to see her beautiful face full of fear and stained with tears anymore.
I roll my eyes.
Stupid me. Stupid heart.
Sometimes, I wish the fucker would stop beating altogether. When your heart gets involved, it leads you down roads you normally don’t go down. I could easily see Keira and her tiny, hot as fuck body guiding me down a road I don’t need to go down.
I kill the engine on my Cadillac and get out, slamming the door. I still have to go back to the club, which means I have to go inside, corral Keira, then drive all the way across town with her in tow. And after last night, I know I’m going to get an earful. I need to make sure shit like last night never happens again.
I can’t be seen as weak, especially not by her.
Walking up the front steps, I unlock the door and push it open.
My gaze swings around the open entryway. A part of me hopes she left—less work I have to do—while the other part is scared shitless at the thought. If my brother gets his grubby paws on her, she’s as good as dead. Still, knowing I want her to be here more than I want her gone irritates the shit out of me.
She irritates the shit out me.
Her presence, and the fact that she makes me feel more emotions in one day then I’ve felt in my entire life.
As I move deeper into the house, I look around for her. Complete silence settles over each and every room. No TV or radio on. No running water, foot steps, or any other sounds that would give her being here away.
I clench my fists at my side. I hate how disappointed I am that she’s gone, and I hate even more that I’m already making plans to find her.