Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
T hree weeks later…
Thorn’s flight touched down at San Francisco International Airport just after 8:30 PM. The skies over California were pitch black, the sun long set, and the crisp evening air was a stark contrast to the Miami humidity she’d left behind.
As she stepped off the plane, a knot of anxiety tightened in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She hadn’t seen Damian in three weeks. Apart from a few rushed phone calls, they’d barely spoken.
Would it still be the same between them?
Would that magnetic pull still be there, drawing her in like before?
After clearing customs, she caught a cab to Damian’s place in the hills. He’d spent the last few weeks in custody at FBI headquarters, helping their analysts dig through the mountain of data they’d pulled from Lydian’s servers.
Damian was a key asset in their efforts to unmask Lydian’s criminal users, and his knowledge was invaluable. But even knowing that, she couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at her insides. What if things had changed while he was away? What if he’d had time to rethink everything—to rethink them ?
The taxi dropped her off outside the gate of Damian’s property. The driveway was dark, no paparazzi in sight. The media frenzy had died down, the news cycle having shifted away from his spontaneous wedding to the bombshell he’d dropped at the conference in Miami. But the security shack was still there, standing guard at the entrance like a silent sentinel, though it was empty now.
She stood for a long moment, trying to figure out her next move.
Should she call him? Or just go to the door?
She’d rehearsed this moment in her head a hundred times, but now that she was here, every plan seemed inadequate.
“This is ridiculous,” she huffed, pulling out her phone. “Just call him, for God’s sake.”
She dialed his number and held her breath.
No answer. After a few rings, it went to voicemail.
That was strange. Wasn’t he home? Had she come at a bad time?
She hesitated, then hung up. What she had to say was too important for a message.
Damn.
She felt like a teenager on a first date, sitting there in the dark, unsure of her next move.
She got out of the car and pressed the buzzer on the gate. She heard it ringing in the shack and cursed under her breath. They must have redirected the circuit, so the shack controlled who got in. Damian wouldn’t even hear her ringing from inside the house.
What now?
She scanned the perimeter, her eyes locking on the six-foot electric fence surrounding the property. Was it still live? She tossed a bit of grass against it and saw a spark.
Yep. It was live, alright.
She was glad Damian had it activated, but the fact that he was home alone with no real protection made her uneasy.
What if Markov held a grudge? What if he wasn’t as far away as they thought?
The immediate threat appeared to be over—Markov had reportedly fled to Central America. But still… her mind raced, imagining all the worst-case scenarios.
She scrutinized the gate and the fence. The gate was lower than the surrounding fence, making it the most feasible entry point. And it wasn’t electrified. A glaring weakness in the security setup now that no one was manning it. If Thorn could figure that out, then so could someone with far more malicious intent.
Parking the car off to the side, she climbed over the gate, careful not to catch herself on the jagged spikes at the top. She dropped down silently on the other side and headed up the driveway. The cameras were trained on the gate, but since the feed was directed to the shack, Damian would have no clue she was there. They really need to fix that security loophole.
She tried his phone again, but it remained unanswered. Damian was never far from his phone.
Was he okay? Had something happened?
Thorn increased her pace. When she got to the house, she saw that the lounge windows were closed, and the blinds were drawn, blocking any view inside.
Well, she’d just have to knock on the front door like a normal person.
Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles against the wood, the sound unnaturally loud in the still night air. A long moment passed, and she thought maybe he wasn’t going to answer.
Panic fluttered in her chest as she imagined him lying there, shot through an open window. Maybe someone had gotten to him. Maybe?—
She heard footsteps and let out a shaky breath.
Thank God.
The latch clicked open, and Thorn’s heart jumped into her throat.
Would it be too much to throw her arms around his neck and cover him with kisses?
She forced a smile onto her face, though it felt brittle, like it might shatter at any moment. This was it—the moment of truth.
The door creaked open, and there he was. Tall, rugged, darkly handsome—her breath caught. Damn, he was just as gorgeous as she remembered.
“Hi.” Her voice came out shakier than she intended, her smile strained. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears like a drum. She hadn’t been this nervous since she’d gone undercover in Afghanistan two years ago. Back then, the fear of discovery had made her anxious. Now, it was the fear that he’d tell her it was over, that he had moved on.
She bit her lip, fighting to keep her composure.
“Thorn? What are you doing here?” His voice was flat, devoid of the warmth she’d come to expect from him. It hit her like a punch to the gut.
“I—I came to see you. Can we talk?” She searched his eyes, looking for some sign that he still cared, that he wasn’t as closed off as he appeared.
He hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he might let her in. But then his expression hardened, and he shook his head. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”
“What?” Hearing the words was like a knife twisting in her chest. “I don’t understand. I thought?—”
“Thorn, this isn’t really a good time.” His expression tightened, the tendons in his neck standing out.
“Why not?” She frowned, confused.
What the hell was going on? Had it all been a lie? Before, in Mexico, had it all been a ploy to get her into bed?
No. She couldn’t believe that.
That wasn’t the Damian she knew.
Was it?
He took a deep breath, his shoulders tense. “I’m sorry, it’s over. I can’t be with you anymore.”
She stared at him, stunned, confused, totally horrified. Questions unleashed in her mind with the ferocity of a tornado. Sure, they hadn’t really spoken since the hotel in Miami, and even then it was just as his protection officer, but still… it wasn’t reason to end it. Surely, she deserved more than this?
“Why not?” her voice was a strangled whisper.
“I was feeling trapped. I didn’t realize it until I got home, but now that I’m back…” He shrugged. “I don’t want to be in that relationship anymore.”
Her heart crumpled, blood rushed to her head.
There it was, loud and clear—he was done with her, with all her hot-and-cold bullshit, her mixed emotions, her indecision. She’d made him feel trapped. That stung more than anything.
Yet something inside her wouldn’t let it go.
“Damian, please let’s talk about this?” Her voice wavered, and she hated herself for it, hated how vulnerable she sounded but she needed an explanation. He couldn’t just switch it off like that, could he? “You owe me that much.”
His voice was strained, like he was holding something back. “I owe you nothing. I’m sorry, Thorn. I think you’d better leave.”
Leave? Was he frigging serious?
He was kicking her out before they’d even talked. How had she gotten him so wrong?
Thorn blinked, shocked by how cold he was being. She’d thought he’d at least listen to her before cutting her out of his life for good. An icy cold descended as her heart was ripped from her body and crushed mercilessly underfoot. She began to shake as the shock hit.
Fuck him. Fuck everything.
She didn’t need this shit in her life.
Except she did.
She needed him so much it hurt. It fucking twisted and burned and tore her apart. An AK unleashing on her soul would do less damage than his words had. Stifling a sob, she turned to leave.
“Go back to Jaden,” he called after her. “That’s who you belong with. Not me.”
She froze, dread pooling in her stomach as his words sank in. Slowly, she turned back to face him, her heart pounding in her chest.
What?
A surge of joy so strong it whipped her breath away shot through her.
Thank you, God.
He wasn’t dumping her emotional ass, he was telling her something, sending her message, except she’d been too wrapped up in her own nervousness to see it.
He wasn’t alone.