Chapter 16 #2
“You get dressed and leave it to me. I’ll get everything else ready, okay?
” I crash my lips to his, refusing to let him back out.
He kisses me back like we’ll never get the chance again.
Our tears run along our lips, mixing on our tongues before I tear myself away, turning and stepping in one desperate movement.
He snatches my hand before I can get too far, though, pulling me back like he’s afraid I won’t return.
“It’s okay, Damien. I’m right here,” I promise him.
“Just get dressed.” I squeeze his hand before I let go and walk out of the room, more determined than ever to help him.
I miss him. The way he smiles and laughs, how he jokes and smirks at an insult—I miss it all.
Hell, even how he wields a knife and holds a gun.
His strength is a force of nature, and I know it’s fighting to break through.
There’s so much conflict in his eyes. His internal war is rising to the surface.
I know he’s battling to break past this pain and guilt.
I see him, and I’m not letting him disappear again.
My fist makes contact with Zeke’s door before I even realize I’m standing in front of it.
I don’t know what time it is or how long everyone has been in their rooms. We went to bed rather early, but it’s so dark outside that it’s hard to tell anything.
Zeke answers the door rather quickly, though.
So, either it’s still early in the night or his mind is also plagued by sadness.
His eyes immediately meet mine, and that brotherly worry takes over his features.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asks frantically, but I just shake my head at him.
“I'm fine. I need you to take Damien hunting, like right now. He’s getting dressed.” I know how crazy and jumpy I probably sound, but I don’t care.
Zeke looks towards our room and then back to me, probably going over the options in his head before he nods only once—matching my determination.
Pride and relief shoot down my spine as he steps out of the room, instantly heading for Carter’s door and banging on it.
“Get out here,” he demands. Alex pops out of his room next, clearly hearing the commotion, and Carter isn’t far behind. They walk up to us with curious looks on their faces, but thankfully, they don’t look as alarmed as Zeke and I.
“What’s going on?” Alex asks, crossing his arms like he’s ready to fight someone.
“We’re going out,” Zeke answers for me, then meets my gaze. “Are we suiting up?”
“No suits,” I command. “Do it like you guys used to. No fancy shit. No HEMTs. Just you four, okay? Whatever route he wants, whatever victim he wants, for as long as he wants. You let him make every choice, got it?”
“Got it,” they all answer without hesitation and burst into action.
Zeke and Alex practically leap into their rooms to get dressed, and Carter follows me as I make my way back towards our bedroom.
He’s already wearing his jeans and a white T-shirt, looking like he hasn’t slept at all in at least a day.
“You weren’t asleep?” I ask. He shakes his head slightly, clearly battling his own emotions.
During my party the other day, I noticed he and Ser were distant again.
He hasn’t been the same since they last saw each other, and while I know it’s not my business, it’s obvious that he’s distraught over her. “What’s going on with you and Ser?”
“It’s nothing, just arguing,” he deters.
“About?”
“Don’t you think you should ask her?”
“I have, and she won’t talk to me about it.” I shrug my shoulders as we stop in front of our door. “I know it’s not my business, but I know her better than anyone, and she cares for you, Carter.”
“Just drop it, Ash,” he snarls and starts down the stairs, avoiding the conversation. Serena is getting a hard kick to the ass next time I see her, but right now, their relationship problems have to wait. Right now, my husband needs to go on a murder spree, and that needs all of Carter’s attention.
When I walk back into our bedroom, relief punches me in the throat.
Damien stands beside the bed, fully dressed and tying his boot laces.
His back is to me, thankfully. I don’t want to tear his focus away from getting ready.
So, I keep my momentum and walk into the closet, diving into exactly what we need.
Zeke wanted to hide it with everything else, but I knew we would need to keep his things separate.
Yes, he has a thousand guns and knives, it seems like, but they’re not these.
These are familiar, and I know he’ll want them tonight.
I take the lid off the box and walk out, catching his eyes the moment he looks up.
He’s sitting on the bed now beside my pillow, calmer than he was before.
My steps falter when I look at him, caught off guard by his beauty, but I push forward, letting the muscle in my chest guide me.
His brows furrow when I stand between his legs and lower the box for him to look inside.
My heart continues to pound, nervous of what he’ll think when he sees his weapons.
“Zeke cleaned them,” I reassure him. “They should be all ready to go.” He stares at them wondrously, almost as if he was afraid that he’d never have them again.
I don’t want to push, but I’m starting to think he’s backing down.
The conflict that was swirling in his eyes is still there, but he doesn’t look as clouded anymore.
He takes the box in his hands and then sets it down on the bed before pulling me even closer, turning me into putty.
I sink into him and run my hand through his hair as he presses his lips to my stomach. “Are you almost ready?”
“Almost.” He stands and kisses me in one fluid motion, pressing his lips to mine in a soft, yet intense touch. He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes again. “I love you,” he whispers.
I hold his face in my hands, making sure he can see the seriousness behind my words.
“I love you, too.” After a swift kiss to the tip of his nose, I grab his weapons for him and hook them on his belt, attaching them easily, as if they haven’t been out of place for two months.
Once I know they’re not falling off, I grab his hand and start to lead him downstairs with confident steps.
Every inch we move feels like we’re closer to a goal line, finally walking in the right direction.
I could be leading him to a darker space, and this confidence might be a lie, but we’ll navigate it together, like we should have been this entire time.
Zeke and Alex are waiting by the garage door, all dressed up and ready to go.
Alex is as stoic as ever, while my brother looks like he’s going to jump out of his own skin.
“Alright! Let’s do this shit!” Zeke skips to grab the door handle—actually skips like a damn kid waiting to go to the park.
Damien smirks and shakes his head as he turns to face me, either already getting geared up or regretting his decision by Zeke’s reaction alone.
I match his grin anyway, just happy to see one form on his lips.
“Promise me you’ll stay right here?” His tone is soft, but he makes his needs clear.
“I promise.” My heart flutters as he kisses the top of my head, and then I let go of his hand, allowing him to walk away.
I’m not as nervous as I thought I would be.
Some of my anxiety is still there, but this moment is more definite.
It’s confident. There’s something about watching him leave for the first time in weeks that actually settles my worry instead of intensifying it.
That is, until the door closes and our little gymnast starts doing somersaults in my belly.
I rub against my stomach without much thought, more so talking to myself than her.
“Don’t worry, baby girl. Daddy’s going to be fine. He just needs some control back.”