Chapter 12
DAMON
“It’s an easy distraction, isn’t it?”
Mae practically jumps out of her skin as I step up to the wingback chair she’s dragged across the room and positioned in front of the balcony doors. With her legs partially tucked under her, fingers poised ready for the next pencil stroke of the skillfully rendered face on the sketchpad, her pensive gaze is lost somewhere out over the ocean. Now wide-eyed, she stares up at me, her left breast pounding from her thumping heart.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry. I knocked, but when I didn’t hear you, I—”
“Entered anyway.”
I smile because her feisty side is out to play. “Correct.” I point to the sketch pad. “You have a masterful talent, Mae. I definitely see the classical training coming through.”
A charming blush colors her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Reserved and unassuming, I wonder how she’ll fair at her exhibit. Every guest will be there for her , with their attention, their praise, and some assholes, even with their criticisms. Mae is an exceptional artist, but she’s no extrovert. It’s partially why I love seeing the fight in her eyes and loathe passivity.
“Breakfast in ten,” I finally manage.
She shakes her head fractionally. “I’m not hungry, but thank you.”
“It’s non-negotiable. Besides, you haven’t eaten since you got here. Rosa tells me the tray is always returned untouched. You need to eat.”
To my surprise, she blinks, spilling tears she’d rather do in private.
“Mae?”
“Yes?”
I gently wipe her cheek with my knuckles. “What’s happened?”
“It’s nothing. Truly.” Hitting reset on her composure like I’m sure she’s done many times with Peter, Mae smiles up at me. It’s the saddest smile I’ve ever witnessed, but it’s all she can muster. “I’ll be at breakfast. Please , just give me a minute.”
I let her believe she’s convinced me she’s fine because the further I press, the more she’s likely to retreat, and I’ll lose the ground already claimed.
Taking her free hand, I pull Mae from the chair and draw her close. Her subtle scent is of blooming jasmine, and it takes all my strength not to take her to bed where we can busy ourselves for the rest of the day. But the girl before me trembles uncontrollably and will do just about anything to avoid my gaze. So, I tilt Mae’s face with two fingers under her chin, revealing the brokenness she carries as a heavy burden. “Tell me what it is, and I’ll fix it.”
With all hope lost, she says, “You can’t. Some things are irreparable.”
Pulling away from me, Mae crosses the room like a haunted, lost spirit and closes the bathroom door behind her. Whatever has her so broken occurred not on my watch. If she won’t give me any answers, Jason will, whether he feels obliged to or not.
My brother’s irate voice carries up the stairs the moment I step out. “I don’t give a fuck ,” he barks at the poor fool on the receiving end. “Just fucking get it done, and if you can’t get it done, tell me now, and I’ll pay someone who can. I don’t understand why it’s such an issue when it’s What. You. Fucking. Do .” He ends the call and lets his cell drop on the table with a heavy thud.
“You’re more surly than usual.”
He runs a hand over his face in frustration. “I’m tired of dealing with incompetent assholes.”
Between the two of us, Jason has the least tolerance for human interaction. That’s why I typically conduct business talks. He’s brash, offensive, and has the diplomacy of a war tyrant.
I take a seat beside him and watch for his reaction. “Mae will be joining us.”
He scoops a heavy spoonful of scrambled egg and dumps it onto his plate. “Fucking fantastic.”
“She seems particularly despondent this morning. Any idea what that’s about?”
“More than likely because she spoke with her moron husband last night.”
“And?”
“And he was his usual tosser-self.”
It’s like trying to draw blood from a stone. “Did anything come of it?”
“If you’re referring to her personally, yeah, she probably cried herself to sleep. If you’re referring to business, no, we may as well be back at square one.”
Mae’s approach puts an end to the questions. With the warm summer breeze flowing through her long hair and dress as she walks, it’s hard to tear my attention away from her striking beauty. Or, the trepidation as she takes a seat, casting subtle glances over her shoulder like she might up and run at any given moment.
“I hear your conversation with Peter last night was interesting .”
Her troubled gaze moves from me tapping my apple slice on the side of the plate to Jason, who is head down in irritation, stabbing his eggs. Choosing not to answer, Mae fiddles with her earring, something she does when she’s nervous. In doing so, I spot a smear of pink oil pastel she’s missed while cleaning up, located on the pale flesh below her delicate wrist bone.
Tension is thick in the air, and my gaze shifts between them, knowing it wasn’t just a phone call that’s put them both in their respective moods. “Seems I missed out on quite the evening. Either one of you care to explain?” I sit back, wondering who’s going to be the first to crack. Mae goes to stand.
“Sit,” I say, more forceful than intended, her ass immediately finding the seat again. She pleads with those big, urgent eyes, hoping I’ll change my mind and grant her leave. I don’t.
Cutting her losses, she steels herself with stoic resolve. “Peter will come to a decision on his own. I’m sure you’ll get what you’re after.”
She’s retreating, and I’m losing her. “And what is it you’re after, Mae?”
The reply, both distant and confronting, claws at my stone-cold heart. “Damon, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t matter what I want.”
~
MAE
Damon doesn’t contest my reply. Instead, I’m met with a pensive stare as if he’s wading through the blanket of darkness to find me again.
It’s too late.
“I’m not hungry…” the words catch on emotion, “… and would like to go—”
Jason sends his fork clattering onto the plate. “You were told to sit .”
I meet his derision head-on which dares me to disobey. So, I give him what he wants because I’m ready for a fight of my own. At least now, I’m not being ambushed, and now , I hold something over him . Determined to grate on his last nerve, I push back my chair, causing it to scrape across the pavers. It makes an awful sound that triggers his misophonia and unleashes the monster among us.
I’m on my feet and turning to leave the moment he rounds the table. Within a heartbeat, he has me by the shoulders, hurling me against the pillar. The blunt force is winding, but Jason wastes no time in pinning me with one hand around my throat, the other raised in a white-knuckled fist, poised to make contact with my face.
“I fucking gave you an instruction that was real fucking easy to follow, even for you.”
“Get the fuck off her!” Damon’s roaring voice terrifies me more than being tackled by his psychopathic brother. So powerful it is, I imagine him using the same voice to single-handedly stop warring armies from advancing on each other.
Jason’s nostrils flare like an angry bull, furious his retaliation will go unfulfilled. Without argument, he listens to the command. One could be forgiven for thinking they’re equally in charge of the goings-on, but it’s Damon who holds the scepter.
I simply don’t care if Jason fulfills his desire to hurt me because I’m screwed either way. So far gone is regard for my own personal safety, I use the voice men like Peter, Carlson, and Jason want to keep silenced.
“Why don’t you tell your brother about how you threatened to fuck me last night, Jason.”
Lose control. I dare you.
Through gritted teeth, he seethes, “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
I’m not done.
“What are you afraid to say? That you waited until Damon wasn’t in the house before you made your move, or that you thought you could take what’s his without consequence?”
It’s then I see it in his soulless black eyes. He never counted on me ratting him out. Jason assumed I’d be too frightened of him to speak of last night. He anticipated keeping this as our little secret .
“Walk away, Jason.” Damon’s calm voice carries a terrifying authority. So confident in his command, he remains standing at the table, yards away. “Let her go.”
Jason’s snarl deepens seconds before he cocks back his arm and lets his fist fly. I expect excruciating pain, a fractured eye socket, or a split lip. But none of that occurs because his fist meets the pillar beside my head, purposefully missing my face by a hair’s breadth. He shakily backs away, his hateful stare promising the threat of vengeance. Only when he disappears into the house do I turn and see his blood smeared on the render.
I’m shaking, but with an overflow of rage I haven’t had the opportunity to vent.
This house.
These people.
This contract.
Peter.
His brother.
It’s all getting the better of me. They’re winning because I have no way of stopping them.
“I hate him!” I say, indifferent to Damon overhearing.
“I can see that.”
I right my partially torn dress strap. “He’s volatile.”
“He’s passionate.”
“He’s disturbed!”
Damon slides his hands into his pockets, and his lips curl in amusement. Approaching, he stops just shy of my heaving chest. Aware of what his presence does to me every time, Damon waits until the rage subsides and my heart rate settles.
“He’s threatened by you,” he says softly.
In any other situation, I’d find it funny. “That’s a strange joke to make.”
“I’m deadly serious. Mae, you have the ability to either make this work or bring the whole operation crashing down. My brother doesn’t favor having to relinquish control, especially to you. It’s not in his nature to be so powerless .”
Has he lost his mind? “I don’t hold that kind of power.”
“From where we stand, you hold all the power.”
Trapped under the weight of his gaze, I realize there’s no place I’d rather be, even if he does hold the power he speaks of firmly in his grasp.
“It’s been a tumultuous two weeks for you, Mae. No one can blame you for how you’re feeling.” Damon cups my cheek, his thumb stroking with a tenderness I crave. “All that aside, I rather enjoyed seeing the fight return to your eyes. Although…” his lips twitch, “… I never picked you as a brawler.”
No matter how lost I am in the darkness, this man always manages to bring a smile to my face that I feel right through to my heart. “I don’t make it a habit, I assure you.”
Damon considers me a moment, his expression sobering. “I’m pleased to hear it because that , with Jason, was reckless. If I hadn’t been here—”
“Like you weren’t last night?”
He weighs up his solemn answer with regret. “I had to leave.”
“Why?”
“I chose to do business elsewhere. Because if I didn’t get out of this house, let’s just say being around you and having to keep my hands to myself is driving me fucking insane.” Damon leans in, his hand resting on the pillar opposite Jason’s blood. The heat of his body warms mine as his finger tentatively traces my neckline. “You, in a sundress, it kills me.”
I lean into the sensation of his grazing kiss on my cheek. His lips linger, and I want more, the caress of stubble stirring every bit of me to life.
“Are you a man of your word?” I whisper.
Kiss . “You know I am.”
“Then promise not to leave me alone with your brother ever again.”
With two fingers under my chin, he tilts my face to meet his. “I promise. He’ll never hurt you again.”
And just like that, Damon hands over power, no questions asked.
~
DAMON
“Do you want to tell me about this game you’re playing?”
I close the door to Jason’s office and toss a bag of frozen peas on his desk. He eyes it like it signifies defeat.
“I’m not playing any game,” he says, rummaging through a neat stack of paperwork. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear how serious this is.”
My brother can be a tough nut to crack—the hardest of all nuts. But he’s never once let me down or gone against my word, and I can’t imagine him starting now.
“And I thought I made myself real fucking clear you are not to touch her.”
Distracted, Jason looks up from the document he’s reading. He wears a peculiar frown, and oddly enough, the rage from earlier is notably absent. “Listen, she fucking rubs me the wrong way and pissed me off on a morning when I’ve already dealt with enough shit from the Eclipse contract.” He sighs, and it’s unusual. “Besides, you’ll thank me for it all later.”
“I plan on being busy later.”
There’s no snide remark in return or flare of unwarranted hostility. Lost in thought, he picks up the frozen bag and places it over his swollen knuckles. Then, leaning back in his chair, Jason’s steady gaze hits mine. “Firstly, before you start launching grenades at me, I’m not even remotely interested in her. I threatened what I did for a reason.”
“What—”
He raises his hand, signaling me to hear him out. “She needed to check in with her husband and convince the moron to sign, which we made no ground on. Perhaps we could have had a different outcome by now had she been at home sucking his dick into agreement instead of yours.”
The idea of Mae sucking Peter’s dick makes me, among other things, want to castrate him. “And secondly?”
He tosses the frozen bag on the desk. “It was a test. You’re falling for her, and evidently, she is falling for you. You know, as well as I, that mixing business with personal affairs is signing a death warrant. It will be the death of this business deal if she fucks this up. So, last night, I put her to the test. Allegiance verse self-preservation.”
Well, this is interesting. “And?”
I already know the answer, but watching my brother eat some humble pie every now and then is good for us both, but for entirely different reasons.
The twitch of his jaw becomes more prominent with my goading. “You’ve become someone I suspect she cares a great deal for. She could have played along with what I was doing to her, but she risked her own well-being because of you. I was rather impressed.”
“I bet you kept that well hidden.”
“I may have continued to rub salt into the wound for appearance’s sake.”
Of course he did. “Why anyone calls you an asshole, I’ll never know.”
Always appreciating a deadpan comment, he asks, “I’m guessing you heard that shit at breakfast …
‘… or that you thought you could take what’s his without consequence?’ ”
It’s the ‘what’s his’ that makes my cock twitch. “I did.”
It could have been an off-the-cuff comment with nothing deep behind it, but every word from Mae’s mouth holds significance, and taunting Jason by saying she’s mine, well, it’s a confession of sorts.
“And,” Jason says, standing to round his desk. “I can tell by that stupid grin on your face that you don’t see any of this as an issue.”
“Correct.” With Mae, it was always going to be a potential consequence of immersing myself in her life. “Turns out I’m rather likable.”
Jason purses his lips, suppressing his smile. “That’s all well and good for you now, but don’t forget that when all this is over and shit hits the fan, she’s not going to want anything to do with you. Are you prepared for that?”
Quite simply, no .
It bothers me.
Really fucking bothers me.
When I don’t answer, he continues, “And that’s not even addressing the contract issue. So, you see the predicament we’re finding ourselves in?”
“I don’t see it as a predicament with Mae, but with Peter and the contract, quite possibly.”
“Well, it turns out Peter is rather excelling at being a cocksucker, which will make her less inclined to help. If we’re forced into blackmailing him, that may limit us to just one or two contracts, not ten.”
“I get it.”
My brother’s attention drifts momentarily, but it’s the atypical tapping of a pen on his desk that strikes me as odd. Such a sound would typically incur his wrath. So, he has cured himself of his quirk, or he’s too far lost in thought to notice.
“Jase, spit it out.”
Hesitating, he scratches his beard. “I, ah… I witnessed something peculiar last night that piqued my interest.”
His tone alone has me immediately on edge. “I’m listening.”
“As I said earlier, Peter was his usual self. He attempted to intimidate Mae with a few threats, and she fared well enough. But he was in the company of his brother, Carlson, and at the mention of him wanting to talk to her, she…” Jason struggles to find the words, eyes wider than usual, “… she had what looked to me as a panic attack, and the more he said, the worse it got. It was like she just witnessed the brutal death of a loved one while running from someone wielding a shotgun. It was the strangest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Rubbing my jaw, I sit in deep thought about what all this means. Mae is a strong woman who hasn’t yet managed to escape an abusive husband, but to be so affected by someone else when they’re not even in the same room as her, begs the question, what the fuck has happened?
“What exactly did he say to her?”
“He wanted to know where she was so he could personally come and collect her. But it was his tone and the way he cajoled her, it was off .” For my brother to make such an observation, given his own resentment toward Mae, is concerning in itself. “The entire interaction was suggestive of some sort of nefarious past between them, and the more Carlson alluded to the dynamic, the more distressed she became.”
“And Peter?”
Jason shrugs. “I guess he just let it play out.”
For a long moment, we simply sit staring at each other, lost in contemplation, both of us considering the magnitude of this new, disturbing development.
What we know about Carlson Cooper hasn’t raised any alarm bells.
Four years older than Peter, the brothers are near mirror images. Their sandy-blond hair is kept neat with unremarkable but not ugly features. They have medium builds and fashion sense similar to that of a marathon cyclist stepping out of GAP. Their pale irises are windows to their soulless bodies, but only one of them presents as a well-mannered professional, the other an obnoxious fuckwit.
Dr. Carlson Cooper is a graduate of Stanford University and is the face behind the largest general practice on the West Coast. He’s diligent in dotting his I’s and crossing his T’s with a squeaky-clean record. While Peter wears his degeneracy like a badge of honor, Carlson, it seems, prefers covert coercion, and God knows what else we’re yet to uncover.
“Based on what you heard last night, where would you hedge your bets?”
Jason puffs his cheeks and exhales. “I think you know where.” He doesn’t need nor want to say it aloud.
Fuck.
Dragging my hands over my face, I consider the next course of action.
There will be no more pushing Mae into battle. She knew all along that the chances of surviving one Peter was near impossible. With two Cooper brothers? My sweetheart would have no other option but to fall on their sword every time.
“As fucked-up as it is, this doesn’t change anything, Damon.”
“It changes everything !” If my brother can’t see this for what it is, then we have a real fucking monumental problem. “Our objective was to have his name on multiple projects, Jason. That means years’ worth of business relations.”
“I know exactly how detrimental this is, but as I’ve told you before, we are not picking up stray puppies along the way, no matter how cute they are. Stick to the plan.”
“And I told you, we’re changing the fucking plan, Jason!” He observes the heavy rise and fall of my chest and clenched fists. “It’s not negotiable.”
“If we do, this could cost us billions.”
“It doesn’t have to. We simply need to get creative and find another way.”
Lost in thought about all the ways this can fuck itself up, he says, “Dad would be rolling in his grave hearing this.”
“That asshole can keep rolling. The last thing we should aspire to be is him.”
“Except he got shit done, and emotions were never a factor.”
“And just look how that turned out for us.”
Deep down in his resentful, hardened heart, I know he agrees with me.
“We can kill two birds with one stone, Jason. Three now that we have a late-comer. We just have to work it out. But it’s possible. We find out what the fuck is going on and hit them hard.”
My brother nods but with caution. “Okay, then I’ll fight this war with you.” He has always been ride or die and would, without hesitation, take a bullet for me as I would him. Today, however, marks the turning point in his relationship with Mae because while the sun may set on unresolved hostility, he’ll go into battle for her tomorrow.
A phone vibrates on Jason’s desk, and he keeps his stare trained on mine while reaching for it. “It’s Mae’s,” he confirms before taking a moment to read the message.
“What is it?”
He hands it over and says, “I’ll hedge my bet that this is Carlson.”
I stare at the ‘Him’ in the recipient box, where Mae evidently couldn’t bear to see his actual name. Then I read the message.
I’m coming for you, darling.
~
MAE
“There’s a bikini in the drawer in case you haven’t seen it. Meet me down by the pool.” Damon watches me, watching him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Or you can go naked.”
This man has seen every inch of me inside and out, but his wicked flirting still causes my cheeks to burn.
He notices and winks. “See you in ten.” And with that, he’s gone. Like always, it takes me a good moment to recover from him and the presence he leaves behind.
Retrieving the bikini, I slide it on, and not for the first time, wonder who picked out all these clothes. Every item is stunning, and the fabrics are more expensive than I’d ever consider purchasing for myself. In the bathroom, there’s my favorite jar of moisturizer, the jasmine perfume oil I always wear, and lip gloss on the counter, all carefully observed from my own house and purchased for my comfort.
Sliding a dress over the top of the red bikini, I make my way down the stairs. The house is peacefully silent without staff and seemingly no Jason.
While the surroundings are dimly lit with garden lights, the pool itself is dark, leading me to believe I’ve beaten Damon here.
I take a moment to enjoy the smell of summer that’s in the air and listen to the cascade of the infinity edge with the rustle of palm trees.
It’s dangerously intimate and—
“Take off the dress.”
“Fuck!” The deep voice erupting into the night sets my heart racing because I hadn’t seen the figure wading toward me at the pool’s edge. “You scared me.”
“And yet, I’ve never heard the word fuck sound so sweet.”
I smile despite myself. “ Fuck you ,” I say with more gusto.
He laughs, and I love the carefree sound. “Still sweet. Get in.”
Slipping the dress straps over my shoulders, I let it fall to the ground. I feel him immediately—his gaze. It roams my body, following the line of each curve, lingering on areas he’d like to conquer once more and claim indefinitely. My skin tingles. It’s a traitorous but heady response.
Damon moves to the edge and taps an app on his phone, bringing the whole pool glimmering brilliantly to life. Once I’m down the walk-in steps and into the warm water, he plunges us back into darkness.
“Why lights off?”
“I like to come out here at night and not have the distraction.” His voice acts as a tether until my eyes readjust. “It’s quiet.”
The jeweled stars watch us from their inky sky, silence befalling everything but our thoughts. Ripples from Damon’s gently swaying arms tell of his closeness. If I reach for him, our fingers will intertwine, further entangling two fates we no longer control.
“Jason’s left the house and won’t be returning until after you’ve gone. You’re safe.”
There’s movement, and suddenly, I’ve lost him to the ominous shadows. “Even from you?”
While his wicked smile is masked by the night, it’s reimagined in his tone. “That’s the other reason the lights are off.”
Butterflies swarm my stomach, a giddy response I’m learning to love.
The clouds finally unburden the half-moon, and everything, including us, is now cast in a silver hue. Damon leans back against the pool’s edge, arms up on the pavers. Under the witchy glow, his broad shoulders and biceps are perfectly defined. It suits him out here where the weight of the volatile world they’ve constructed is temporarily lifted.
It’s here I ask the question that’s been playing on my mind. “Damon, have you ever killed anyone?”
The answer isn’t immediate, but when it comes, it’s difficult to decipher his mood. “Why do you want to know?”
“I guess I need to know if I’m going to come out of this alive.”
A prolonged silence follows, and the more the seconds tick by, the more I start to panic. Damon finally responds by pushing off the wall, quickly closing the space between us. With each of his strides, I retreat until I can go no further. Strong arms encase me, hands leaning on the edge on either side of my shoulders. There’s protection in his strength, like he can knock my world off its axis but be there to catch me when I fall. Damon takes stock of my rapid breathing, inching his body closer.
“The world is full of shitty people who do shitty things, Mae. Myself included. I’m not about to rob it of someone who can so easily light up the dark.”
It’s an unexpected endearment, one spoken with enough conviction and is enough to have me momentarily forget about the horrors from the previous night.
“Why would you say something like that to me?”
“Because it’s true.”
Despite everything between us, the pain and betrayal, I want his lips on mine, and I long for his touch again. As if sharing the same thought, he leans over and taps his cell, the pool lights slowly brightening to a dim, intimate glow around us. When he returns to position, there’s a familiar pang between my legs because this man does not disguise his animalistic hunger for me.
“You look like you could eat me alive.”
Damon’s deep laughter erupts, and he shakes his head. “Sweetheart, you have no idea what level of restraint I’m employing right now.”
For a long, faithful moment, we simply hold each other’s gaze, the anticipation between us too great to ignore.
“I heard what you told Jason this morning,” he murmurs, sinking a hand beneath the surface and toying with the ties of my bikini bottoms.
“What did I say?”
“That he tried moving in on what’s mine .” Rolling the ties between his fingers, he gently pulls, watching as one side becomes undone, the fabric loosening around my groin. “Is that what you said, Mae? That you’re mine ?”
My breath hitches. “Yes.”
His lips turn, pleased with my response. “Mm… you became mine the second you walked through my front door. I should never have let you leave the next day.”
We both know why he had to, but it doesn’t change what we both felt on that first night.
Moving to the other side, Damon repeats the motion until the bikini bottoms float free.
A guttural groan reverberates in his throat, eyeing what he so desperately wants to touch but is so far out of reach.
He snakes a hand behind me, pulling both back and neck ties free—the small triangles of fabric floating to the surface. I’m completely naked before him, and he did it all without laying a finger on me. Despite the warm water, my nipples harden. He goes to caress them with his thumb but pulls away before he makes contact. His restraint is palpable, and while I’m captivated by his attention, he’s captivated by me.
Damon leans close until I feel his soft lips graze my ear. “I want to bury myself inside you.” He growls in frustration, causing shivers to ripple over my skin. “I don’t want just a taste, Mae. But if I touch you…”
If he touches me and leaves a trace, he places the contract in jeopardy. The problem being that this man doesn’t just fuck. He fucks.
“You need to run, Mae,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. Damon knows I couldn’t escape him even if I tried. “I’m moments away from tearing you apart, sweetheart.” When he presses his body against mine, I feel the throb of his cock between my aching thighs. “Run. Now .”
This time, it’s a demand.
Offering me a window to escape, he drops an inked arm into the water, beautiful monotone patterns rippling beneath the surface. Our eyes lock, and while my heart mercilessly pounds, Damon’s chest heaves with a determination that could easily see me pulled back into his ruin.
Perhaps I want him to lose control.
Perhaps I don’t want the tether between us to set me free.
Perhaps I have to convince myself I don’t want him as much as he wants me.
But I’ve never been a convincing liar.
When I’m safe on the steps, the lights go out, and I turn and search for him. A shadow moves, but he’s no longer above water. He’s sinking to the bottom, baring his sins to the heavens.
With a heavy heart, I realize this is as much his battle as it is mine. Laying eerily still and staring up into the endless sky, Damon is a man at war with himself.
A man who’s simply attempting to drown his inner monster.
~
“Now, let’s see you run.”
Peter, like a rabid dog hunting his next feed, has found me in my dreams, his menacing voice lurking somewhere in the darkness behind me. Under the glow of the silver moon, I’ve been brought to my hands and knees beside the pool, stone pavers grinding against bone, scraping at already torn flesh. There’s a cold shackle circling my right ankle, a heavy chain linking me to the one person I’ve despised for so long.
My cry is both desperate and defeated. “Peter, you can’t keep doing this to me.”
“Oh, but I can.” He says, his voice that of the purest evil. “And so can he.”
While Peter’s treacherous smile emerges from the shadows, he’s joined by a man who bears his resemblance, both as vile as the other.
“Hello, darling.” Two words have never been so destructive. “You know well that I’ve looked forward to this very moment.” Carlson Cooper has always wanted me as his sacrifice and now, thanks to my husband, he may get his wish. Peter yanks the chain hard, flattening me to the ground. Powerless and at their mercy, this is how these men get off, and now, as they drag me away from the edge, my skin tears, the rusted scent and taste of blood driving my need to escape.
I scramble forward, nails snapping on the stone. Then I see him—a motionless body lying at the bottom of the pool.
“Damon!”
I call his name repeatedly, my breath clouding from the strange arctic chill. His stare is one of regret and sorrow, a life slipping away before mending recent wounds.
My heart splinters.
I ache for him .
I crave his touch once more.
To hear his murmurs.
To have his smile graze my cheek.
I ache for you.
My scream fractures the night, and I lurch forward, the heavy shackle clunking across the pavers. Behind me, in the shadows, a duet of maniacal laughter erupts at my desperation. To the very end, my husband and his brother will continue to terrorize me, actively preventing any escape.
“Help him,” I plead, gripping the pool’s edge so they can’t drag me away.
Carlson appears at my side, his fingers brushing my cold cheek. “You killed him, Mae.”
What?
“No,” I plead, feeling the last breath being taken from me. “I didn’t. I would never—”
“But you did.”
He’s lying. They’re both lying.
My hand breaks through the surface of the frigid water, small waves rippling over Damon’s face.
He remains still, eyes unseeing. They killed this man because of me and now I want to drown myself alongside his lifeless body just so I don’t have to live on without him.
“Why did you do it, Carlson? Tell me!”
“Because, darling,” he says, rinsing the bloodied knife blade in the water, “you made the mistake of loving him instead of me.”