Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
Damien
Two days later, Luna sits across from me in the armchair by the fireplace.
She’s on the edge of the seat, back straight, hands gripping her knees, ready to bolt at any moment.
An emergency with a yellow-bellied marmot yesterday took up her entire day, preventing this conversation, but ten minutes ago she walked through my door and announced it was time to talk.
Luna’s eyes meet mine, unwavering despite the dark circles beneath them. The bruise on her cheek has bloomed into a swirl of purple and yellow, and my blood boils at the sight. If Caleb Hunter were still alive, I’d kill him again. Nice and slow.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I force the words out first, filling the silence before it can become unbearable. My voice sounds steadier than I feel, nothing like the anxiety twisting through my gut. “Coffee? Water? Something stronger?”
“Whiskey. If we’re doing this, I need something stronger than coffee.”
If she knew what I’m about to tell her, she’d ask for the whole damn bottle.
I nod, moving to the bar in the corner. I pour two fingers into matching glasses, my hands betraying none of the turmoil churning inside me. The amber liquid catches the firelight, reminding me of her eyes when she’s angry.
“I didn’t tell you the day I was here, but I like how you renovated this office. It feels very you. Dark and mysterious with a touch of modern.”
I settle into the chair opposite her, cradling my own drink. Her awkward attempt at normal conversation would be endearing if the circumstances were different.
“You’re terrible at small talk, Luna.”
She shrugs, and I catch the ghost of that brittle smile I’ve seen on her face too often recently. “We can get right to it if you prefer.”
“This house was not meant to be a home, but rather a place I don’t have to hide who I am.”
“And who are you?” Luna takes a small sip of whiskey, her eyes never leaving mine. “The billionaire CEO? The masked stalker? The killer?”
Christ. She doesn’t pull any punches, does she? No one has ever looked at me like this, seeing all my pieces and demanding I explain how they fit together. It should terrify me, but instead, it makes me want to bare my throat to her.
“All of them. They’re not separate people, Luna. Just different facets of the same man.”
“Tell me about that man, Damien.”
The way she says my name, not with fear or disgust, but with something that sounds almost like tenderness, tightens my chest.
“I killed my first target when I was twenty-one.” I choose to start in the middle rather than at the beginning. The beginning is too dark. “He organized dog fights.”
Luna’s expression doesn’t change as she takes another small sip of her whiskey. “Did you plan it?”
“Yes.” I hold her gaze, refusing to soften this for her. If she wants the truth, she gets all of it. “Every detail. I’d been tracking him for months, learning his patterns. I wanted him to know exactly why he was dying.”
“And did he?”
“Yes.” The memory surfaces. His panicked eyes as understanding dawned, the pleading, the promises to change. Just as I used to plead. “They all do, in the end.”
Luna nods. “How many?”
“Fifteen hundred fifty-eight now.” I wait for the horror to register, for her to see the monster sitting across from her. “Including the ones you know about.”
Her eyes widen as she absorbs this, her fingers tightening around her glass. But she doesn’t jump up and run. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Why?”
I can’t sit still under her scrutiny. The truth is clawing at my throat, desperate to get out after decades of silence. I need to move. Need to put distance between us before I do something stupid like reach for her and beg her to save me from myself.
I stand, cross to the window, and set my glass on the desk as I pass it. Outside, the forest stretches vast and primeval, the perfect hiding place for predators like me.
“I was nine when my father decided to make a man out of me.” The words stick in my throat.
I’ve never said this out loud. Not to anyone.
Not even Cade knows the whole truth. “He’d been using his fists since I was five, but that wasn’t getting him the results he wanted.
” I have to pause and force air into my lungs.
“We had a German Shepherd named Rex. Beautiful dog. The only thing in that house that ever looked at me with love.”
Behind me, Luna inhales a sharp intake of breath, but I can’t turn around. Can’t see the horror that’s dawning in her eyes.
“My father said that caring about animals was for women and weaklings.” My hands clench into fists at my sides. “So, he decided to cure me of my softness.”
“What did he do?” Luna’s voice is almost inaudible.
The memory unfolds like a nightmare I can never escape. “He tied Rex to a post in our basement. Handed me a baseball bat.” My voice cracks, betraying the nine-year-old boy still trapped inside me. “He said if I didn’t beat the dog to death, he’d do it himself.”
Luna’s glass hits the floor, the crystal shattering like my childhood did that day.
“I begged him. Pleaded. Told him I’d do anything else.” The words are pouring out now, unstoppable. “But he just smiled that cold smile of his and said it was for my own good. That I’d thank him when I was older.”
I turn around, and the tears streaming down Luna’s face nearly break what’s left of my black heart.
“I couldn’t do it.” I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I dropped the bat and tried to run. But he caught me, tied me to the post next to Rex, and made me hold him while he did it instead. Made me look into the dog’s eyes as he died. Made me feel his blood on my hands… my face.”
“Oh God, Damien.” Luna’s voice breaks on my name.
“Rex tried to protect me. He didn’t know I was the reason he was being hurt.” Another sob escapes her lips. “That’s when something died inside me too. Or maybe when something else was born.”
I cross back to her, kneeling in front of her chair, desperate to make her understand. Whiskey soaks through my pants while shards of glass I barely feel cut into my knees.
“My father didn’t stop there. Every few months, he’d bring home a new animal.
Dogs mostly, but also cats. Even a rabbit once.
And every time, he’d make me choose—kill it myself, or watch him kill it.
He broke my hands more times than I can count because I tried to shield them from the blows.
It went on for years. I started breaking their necks before the first blow.
It was the only mercy I could give them. ”
Luna’s expression softens, horror giving way to compassion. She reaches for me with trembling hands, cupping my face like I’m something precious instead of the monster I became. “You were just a child.”
“I was, until I wasn’t.” I lean into her touch, starving for gentleness after decades of self-imposed isolation. “My mother just stood by and let it happen. When they realized I wasn’t going to fall in line, they shipped me off to boarding school. I never saw them again until the night they died.”
“I thought you said they died in a home invasion when you were away at school.”
“They did.”
I wait for her to connect the dots. Confusion furrows her brow, then smooths out as understanding hits. Her hands fall from my face as her eyes snap to mine, wide with shock.
“Damien, what are you saying?” Her voice trembles on the words.
My gaze shifts to the fire, hands gripping my knees to resist touching her, before meeting her eyes again.
“The night of my sixteenth birthday, he showed up at my dorm. They were mostly empty because it was Thanksgiving weekend. There were only three of us there, I think. I was shaken awake just after midnight and dragged out of bed. He demanded I come home but wouldn’t tell me why.
When we got there, he led me down to the basement.
There were four dogs and six cats in cages. He'd been starving them for a week.”
Luna’s face drains of color, and her eyes fill with a horror that tears through me. She doesn’t even know my worst sin yet.
“I finally fought back that night. I was bigger than him by then. Stronger. So, I grabbed the bat from his hands, and I—” I swallow.
“I broke every bone in his body. One by one. Just like he’d done to dozens of innocent animals.
Just like he’d taught me to do. And I made him beg, just like I used to beg. ”
She reaches for me again, and her thumbs stroke across my cheeks, wiping away tears I didn’t realize I was shedding. I haven’t cried since the night the last animal died in my arms.
“My mother heard the commotion and came down to the basement. When she saw what I’d done, she started screaming. Calling me a monster. Telling me she wished I’d never been born.”
“That fucking bitch.” The words explode from Luna, sharp with anger I've never heard from her before.
“She grabbed the bat and came at me.” I need to purge myself of this hate-filled memory. “Screaming that I should die the way my father did. That it was all my fault all those animals died. If I’d just killed Rex that first time, my father would have stopped.”
“No.” Luna’s fingers tighten on my cheeks as she rests her forehead against mine.
I close my eyes. “You are not to blame for those animals, Damien. Do you hear me? Your father was. Only him. And your mother for letting it happen. That little boy you were deserved protection. Those animals deserved protection.”
“But they didn’t get it. And that’s when I understood my father’s lesson.
I was meant to protect them. But I couldn’t.
” I open my eyes, letting her see the darkness that lives there.
“So, I’ve spent the last twenty-five years making sure no animal suffers the way Rex did.
The way all of them did. And if I can’t or I’m too late to stop it, I avenge them.
I make sure their abusers suffer exponentially worse. ”