Chapter 16
Damon
I push down and swallow every single fucking emotion inside me. I cannot show weakness in front of my brother—or any other member of my family. I blink slowly, exhaling, feeling the invisible mask slip across my features.
As I open my car door, I spot my brother at the top of the steps. He’s dressed similar to me, and I realize some things never change. It may have been years since we’ve last seen each other, but he is the same person he was when I left—and vice versa.
I walk over to the passenger side and open Keira’s door.
She eyes me with a hesitant glare before stepping out.
Everything about Keira screams innocent—from the softness of her eyes, to the way she sees people as if they could do no wrong.
She knows I’m a bad man, yet she thinks I can save her.
Taking her hand into mine, I squeeze her fingers and close the door.
I can feel my brother’s eyes on us, and I know I need to prove a point.
Without warning, probably catching Keira completely off guard, I sink my fingers into her curls, wrenching her head back. Then I press my lips to hers. Her body shakes, and a cry of pain escapes her, filling my mouth.
I kiss her hard, bruising her lips, making certain my brother sees the ownership I have over her. When I release Keira, she wobbles, and the need to pull her close overwhelms me—but I’m not dumb enough to make such a grave mistake.
We ascend the steps together, and when we reach the top, I stand man to man with my brother.
He has a satisfied grin on his face. His eyes are dark, the color of coffee mixed with a dash of darkness like mine—hell, looking at him is like staring at my reflection in the mirror.
He’s only older by a few years, and his age doesn’t show.
He looks the same…right down to the monster flickering deep in his eyes.
I watch those monstrous eyes move from me to Keira.
“I like the way you dressed up your doll today. She’s beautiful.”
“She is—and she’s mine,” I sneer. “By the way, I enjoy placing bruises of my own on my property, so the next time you decide to touch something that isn’t yours, you’ll return it the way you found it.”
Xander’s eyes ghost over Keira’s throat.
“I’m sorry, little brother. I didn’t mean your pet any harm.
She is a fragile little thing. Her skin bruises with barely any force I see.
” He snickers. “However, we shall predict her future this evening and see who she truly belongs to. Until then, you can keep her at your side.”
The smile on his face makes my stomach turn. Life and death are nothing but a game to him. He doesn’t care who lives or dies. He only cares about making an example of someone.
Xander strolls into the house through the huge, wrought iron door. Like everything else here, this door holds nothing but bad memories. I should be thankful it holds the memories inside the house and not outside them. God forbid I let them control every single aspect of my life.
As I walk up the steps, my heart sinks. A memory slams into me so hard, it steals the breath from my lungs.
I can’t believe she’s dead. I stare down at my hands.
She’s gone. That’s what Father said, but I don’t believe him.
She was fine this morning—happy, smiling, and now, I’ll never see her again.
The thought hurts. My father told me not to cry for her, and I’m doing my very best, but my eyes are burning with unshed tears.
They are going to spill over soon, proving again how weak I am to my father.
I clench my tiny hands into fists
I better go outside so Father won’t see me. I run down the stairs. I think he’s in the study. I can’t pass him by accident.
My hand is on the brass door knob when I hear heavy footsteps behind me.
No, no, no! Treacherous tears run down my face, staining my cheeks. I try to wipe them away, but it’s already too late.
“Where do you think you are going?” my father’s voice booms, igniting fear deep in my belly. I hate my father...I know this to be true.
“Just outside,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. Maybe if I make myself seem less conspicuous, he will ignore me.
I pull the door open and sprint outside…or try to. My father’s hand is already on my neck, jerking me backward before I can take a second step.
He twists my body around so he can look down at me. His grip is harsh, and I try to stop from shaking.
“Are you fucking crying?” His eyes are daggers glaring down at me, and his fingers dig into my arms with bruising force. “And now you are trying to run from me with the proof of your indiscretion staining your cheeks?”
I don’t get a chance to answer—not like there’s anything I could say to make this better. I’ve learned to take the beatings and lick your wounds when done. The less fear you show, the less he beats you. That’s what Xander tells me.
My father’s fist hits my jaw, causing my head to snap to the side. I would have fallen to the floor if he didn’t have an iron grip on my arm. Three or four hits follow…I lose count. If he let me go right now, I’d stay down on the floor. I’d give in, letting him win.
I’m halfway passed out, the pain overtaking me, when he shakes me awake.
“Don’t you fucking pass out, you little shit. I’m not done teaching you a lesson. You take your fucking beating and learn something from it. Clearly, I need to teach you in other ways.” His heated breath fans my face, smelling of whiskey. Has he been drinking? He beats us so much when he drinks.
He yanks me to the side and places my hand between the door frame and the heavy iron door. “You want a real reason to cry, then I’m going to give you one.” I shake my head and try to pull my hand away, but he is so much stronger than I am.
He always is.
He swings the door open, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for it to crush my hand. Then I hear heavy footfalls and open my eyes.
“No!” Xander cries, and my father releases my hand.
I watch with wide eyes as Xander tries to tackle him.
Xander is only fourteen, but he’s big for his age, and my father can’t push him around like he used to.
But Xander isn’t big enough to overtake father yet, so instead of proving a point to Father, he ends up below him, our father’s huge body crushing his.
“Xander,” I yell, wanting to save him the way he saved me.
I see him mouth the word “run,” and as badly as I want to stay and help, I know when my brother tells me to do something I should do it.
“You’re no better than him, Xander. Two fucking weak, pitiful excuses for men.” My father’s voice carries, following me as I climb the stairs to my room, locking the door. Tears slip down my cheeks.
I wish I was stronger. I wish I could protect us like Momma did.
But Momma’s gone. It’s just Xander and I.
Xander’s voice drags me back to reality, pulling me from the horrendous nightmare.
“Our uncles will be pleased to know you actually showed up tonight.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, I’m sure they will be.”
Out the corner of my eye, I watch Keira’s face absorb all she’s seeing. The paintings, the marble floor, the high ceilings, the chandelier, the glitz and glam—the part of my life she’s never seen.
I keep a tight grip on her arm and pull her closer to my body.
She nearly trips over her own feet, a gasp escaping her lips, but rights herself before doing so.
Her heels clack against the flooring, echoing throughout the space.
We walk through the foyer and straight into the open kitchen that leads to the garden.
The place is lit up, just as it was when we were kids.
I hear voices, two of which I know, and a few others I don’t.
When we enter the room, the voices dwindle to nothing more than breath. All eyes move to Keira and watch as a soft blush creeps up her cheeks. She has no idea how beautiful she looks tonight. And she has no clue how much these evil fucking men are going to want her by the time the night is over.
“Damon.” Uncle Dom, the man I’m partially named after, breaks the silence first. As he pushes from his chair to stand, the wood scrapes against the floor, causing Keira to jump. I ignore her tells and focus on the task at hand.
Dom’s face is worn, a permanent expression of tired. When he smiles, it seems unnatural.
“Uncle Dom.” I force a smile, letting him hug me.
He pulls back and directs his attention to Keira. His eyes reflect hunger for something other than food as he drinks her in. The gun digging into my back reminds me I could easily shoot each and every one of these fucks in the head…just for looking at her.
But I don’t…I won’t…at least not yet.
“And you must be Keira.”
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She averts her eyes to the floor as if she’s submissive.
“All this trouble over such a small little thing.” Dom shakes his head, as if he doesn’t understand.
Well, he would, if he had a fucking heart.
“Yes, Uncle. All this trouble over Damon refusing to let go of something he doesn’t actually own.”
I clench my jaw. Dom must sense my hostility because a burst of laughter erupts from his throat as he slaps a hand on my back.
“Now, now, boys. You can always share her. Hell, I remember a time when you shared everything. I’m sure she could survive at least one session with the two of you before you’d have to kill her.
” I feel sick to my stomach, and I can practically see the horror appearing on Keira’s face.
Now, she’s going to freak the fuck out and worry about me sharing her with my brother.
She visibly shies away. Seeing her like this is worse than getting punched in the face. I look at her, hoping she remembers everything I’ve told her, willing her to trust the promises I made this morning instead of believing the words I speak now.
I direct my attention to Xander. “Times of sharing my toys with you are over. You’ve broken them one too many times.”
Memories of the last woman we shared come to mind.