Chapter 27 #3
Even though I still believe Gabriel’s words, Damien’s touch is more soothing than I can put into words.
He runs through the shadowy warehouse, hiding behind poles and pipes, shielding my body from the onslaught of bullets.
At last, he reaches a small, concealed door, breaks out, and tumbles me into the back of a waiting car. He jumps into it too, and slams the door shut behind him.
Then he nods at the driver who takes off at a hair-raising speed.
The moment my breath returns, I twist around to him, desperate to explain.
“Damien…”
But at once he crushes me against the row of backseats, lying me down on my back, pressing a hand to my mouth.
“Shut up. Shut up.”
I manage a glance at him. He’s livid. I’ve never seen him like this.
Gabriel’s words once more echo in my mind.
Damien might have killed Lazarus for trying to rape me, but that doesn’t mean he’s not planning to kill me next.
He confirms it the next second when he takes out a gun and points it at my temple. The tears that had dried up when he’d saved me bubble up once more, and I choke out sobs that sound embarrassingly loud even over the roar of the engine.
His anger seems edged with something else now, something like regret. He keeps the gun on my temple as his other hand leaves my mouth to stroke my hair.
“I did love you,” he murmurs, one finger still on the trigger as the other wipes away my tears. “It won’t hurt, my pet. I promise you that.”
I did love you.
I stare at him in disbelief, the words twisting themselves around my heart, torturing me far more than anything else he could have said or done.
To hear that the one who means everything to me actually did care. To hear it, just as I’m about to leave this Earth.
Worse, to hear it in the past tense.
I didn’t know how lucky I was until it was over.
“Please let me explain,” I whisper, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s useless. I’m not even sure I could explain if I were allowed to.
He leans his forehead against mine.
“I am going to press this trigger in a few seconds, my pet. I’m going to kiss you through it. Close your eyes, now.”
Shivering, I do as he says, one last tear escaping me. He wipes it away then presses his hot lips against mine. I inhale, trying to be present for these last moments, trying to breathe in all his musky warmth, trying to wrap myself in whatever’s left of his love.
I hear his low voice in my ear.
“Three… two… one…”
It takes me a moment to realize I’m still alive.
I open my eyes again and stare at him. He’s teared his lips away from mine and is looking down at me, a small smile playing at the tips of his mouth. Almost like he’s laughing at me.
Even in my precarious position, anger surges through me. How dare he make fun of me? He’s got a gun pointed to my head, he’s going to kill me, and he’s laughing!
No, not laughing. Not at me. His eyes have a faraway look, and the smile on his lips means something else, though at first I can’t quite understand it.
It’s possession, that’s what it is. It’s the smile of the predator who’s caught his prey.
This predator is going to kill me. I look up at him, desperate to contort my features into a neutral expression. I don’t want him to see anymore how scared I am. I will go bravely.
But I’m taken by surprise when I feel the cold metal of the gun leave my temple. I let myself feel just the tiniest glint of hope again. Will he spare me, after all?
The hope is blighted, though, when he grabs me by the arm. I realize with a pang that we must have reached the parking lot in the Devil Tower. He drags me out of the car and into the private elevator, saying, “Logan will do it.”
I can’t keep up a neutral mask at those words. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m kneeling on the floor in front of him, barely aware that I’m still naked. “Please,” I beg. “Please.”
He turns away from me, pushing the sub-basement level.
The cell.
“Please,” I cry out again while he sends a text. “Not Logan.”
He turns back around then, registering slight surprise. He hesitates to speak, as if he’s afraid he’ll get pulled back into something that might make him change his mind. But curiosity seems to get the better of him. “Why not Logan?” he asks stiffly.
“He… he will hurt me,” I sob.
“I trust Logan,” he says. “He’ll be as gentle as I would be.”
I shake my head mutely.
A sudden suspicion flashes in his eye.
“What has he done to make you so frightened of him?”
I bow my head, only mumbling under my breath a sad little refrain. “Please, not Logan. Not Logan. Please.”
His face becomes an impenetrable mask as I remain kneeling before him, still hoping he’ll take pity on me.
At least let me choose my executioner. Anyone but Logan.
The whole thing is absurd.
The elevator dings, and he pulls me out.
Then he suddenly seems to realize I’m naked.
He hurriedly divests himself of his leather jacket and wraps it around me.
It smells like him. Suddenly, I feel… protected.
It’s ridiculous, knowing I’m going to die because of him.
If not by his hands, then by his orders.
We stop in front of the cell and I shrink, remembering the tiny damp room. But he leads me into a larger, nondescript room right next door. It’s bare of furniture and objects except for a small metal briefcase by the door.
Moments later, the other Devils enter, all but Everest. They probably didn’t keep him in the loop. He’s the only one who ever seemed to care.
I try to swallow my pain. Why did I run away? If only I had stayed here, none of this would have happened. Damien would have come back to me. He loved me. He said he did.
Vale stops in front of me, and I notice a little flicker of something like triumph in his eyes before it’s smothered by his anger.
“You realize what you did, don’t you, Wells?” he sneers. “By killing Lazarus, you’ve declared an all-out war with Angel.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Angel,” answers Damien steadily.
“You’re wrong. They’ve got more power than you think. Don’t underestimate your enemy.”
“I will kill anyone who touches what’s mine.”
“Your pet is a fucking traitor,” spits out Vale. “You’re really going to start a war over some cunt?”
In a flash, Damien has thrown a fist out, and Vale staggers backward, his hands to his nose, swearing.
“What the fuck? You said you were going to kill her! We found the nanochip in her things! But you bring her here, still breathing, and you fucking punch me over her? What the hell, man?”
“I have every intention of killing her, Vale,” growls Damien. “But I will not listen to anyone insult her.”
I sway and press myself against the wall to prevent myself from falling. That shitty little glimmer of hope just keeps popping up, and it hurts all the more when it’s quashed, again and again, by the words of the only person I love.
“Logan will do it,” adds Damien, and I shudder.
All my pleas fell on deaf ears. He really doesn’t give a shit about me. It’s hard to believe he ever did.
Logan grows pale.
“Me?”
Damien nods his confirmation.
“I don’t want to,” says Logan quietly.
“It’s not a request,” Damien tells him, his voice brittle. “It’s an order.”
“No. I’m not here to do your dirty work, Damien. You can’t make me.”
Damien draws closer to him and speaks in a low tone. “Come on, Logan. Have some pity.”
Logan stares at him for a few moments, then swallows hard.
“Fine.”
I feel my entire body sag. I’m on the verge of collapse, but Damien grabs me and keeps me propped up. I close my eyes, feeling his warm chest against me. It’s insane that he soothes me even now.
“I’ll bring her up to my apartment,” decides Logan. “I’d like to do it in private.”
Damien nods and peels himself off me. Logan folds his arm around me, and I try to shrink away from it, but it’s like a band of steel encircling me.
“Let’s go,” he says quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
I follow him dumbly to the elevator, catching one last glance of Damien, whose face is ashen as he looks at me with unseeing eyes.
Then Logan presses the ninth-floor button and the doors close on him and my last shred of hope.
The ding of the elevator feels like lead at the pit of my stomach.
The doors open onto a luxurious entryway, but I barely notice the quiet wealth that pervades every room as Logan leads me to a small office.
He closes the door behind me and I look around, searching for the weapon that he will end my life with. But I don’t see a thing, so I look back at him, my heart thundering in my chest.
He takes a step toward me, and I cringe away, feeling like I’m about to pass out.
But he manages to reach me, and wraps an arm around me once more as he whispers in my ear, “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to kill you.”