Chapter 10 #2
“But–” I say, feeling an irrational surge of protectiveness for these men. I’ve known them what, three days?
And I can tell that the conversation is closed.
A nightmare wakes me up just before dawn. Jason’s grinning face is imprinted on my mind. The shadows in the hallway look too dark, too long, and the creaky floorboards beneath my feet echo louder than they should.
I try to shake it off, to remind myself that the house is secure, that the twins are safe. But the knot in my stomach won’t loosen.
The faint glow from the study catches my eye. I step closer and see Damon at the desk, his sharp features illuminated by the pale light of his laptop screen. He’s hunched slightly, scrolling through security footage, his expression as hard as granite.
Guilt churns in my chest. Asher’s lips, his touch—it all flashes in my mind like a shameful secret I can’t undo. What was I even thinking? My life is in chaos, Jason is out there, and I’m... kissing Asher? What if Asher said something to Damon?
My stomach twists further. I don’t want tension between them. I don’t want trouble. Not when I don’t even know what I’m doing myself.
“You should be sleeping,” Damon says without glancing up, his voice low.
“So should you.” My voice comes out quieter than I intended.
I move into the room, heading to the kitchen nook tucked in the corner. My hands fumble with the coffee pot, the simple act of brewing coffee feeling bizarrely normal against the backdrop of surveillance screens and the faint hum of tension in the air.
I glance over at Damon as the coffee machine gurgles to life.
His shoulders look broader in the dim light, his jawline set in that same determined way I’ve always remembered.
My pulse skips, and I tell myself it’s the lingering adrenaline from the nightmare.
Not Damon. Not the way he looks at me sometimes, like I’m the only thing in the room that matters.
But now, his attention is on the screen, his eyes locked on the grainy footage. He’s always been like this, so focused and relentless. I wonder if he even really notices me here.
“Anything new?” I ask, though my voice wavers slightly.
“Nothing significant,” he says, his tone clipped. He leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just making sure no one gets the drop on us.”
I nod, pouring two mugs of coffee and bringing one over to him. He accepts it with a quiet “Thanks,” his fingers brushing mine briefly as he takes the mug.
I sit down across from him, cradling my own cup. The silence between us is heavy, not quite awkward but not easy, either. I feel so bogged down by my thoughts of Jason. And whatever mess I’ve created by letting Asher kiss me.
I risk a glance at him. “Damon,” I start, but my voice falters. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
His eyes flick to mine, sharp and assessing. “Something on your mind?”
I shake my head too quickly. “No. Just... thank you. For everything. For helping me. For helping the girls.”
His gaze softens slightly, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You don’t have to thank me, Mia. This isn’t about favors or payback.”
I nod. How the hell did I end up kissing Asher when Damon was eating me out mere hours ago?
My phone buzzes on the counter, cutting through the tense quiet. Sheila’s name flashes on the screen, and my heart sinks. Damon’s gaze drops down to the phone.
I pick it up, pressing the phone to my ear. “Sheila?”
“Mia?” Her voice trembles, and the sound of it makes my stomach knot. “Jason just confronted me in the hospital parking lot. He demanded to know where you are. ”
“Oh my God, Shiela, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m fine. Where are you? Are you okay? Are your daughters fine?”
My hand grips the counter, knuckles white. Damon leans forward slightly, his eyes locked on me. “Emma and Ella are fine. Sheila, listen to me. It’s better if you don’t know where I am.”
“But—”
“No,” I cut her off gently, even though my heart aches to hear the panic in her voice. “Look, I’ve got people helping me. But maybe you should take a vacation. Get out of town for a while. Just until this settles.”
There’s a shaky inhale on the other end. “If I could just talk to you, maybe—”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I have to protect the girls. You understand, don’t you?”
“I... I do,” she says after a pause. “You’re right. I’ll go visit—”
“Shh. Don’t tell me where you’re going. Just go. I’ll make this up to you someday, Sheila. I promise.”
The call ends, but the tension in the room doesn’t lift. My heart is racing. What if Jason comes back for her? What if she gets into trouble because of me? He would go to any extent to get to me.
“Give me your phone,” Damon says suddenly, his voice quiet but commanding.
I glance at him, confused. “What? Why?”
“Just do it, Mia.” He holds out his hand, and there’s something in his expression that makes me comply, though my chest tightens as I pass him my phone.
He turns it over in his hands, pulling out the SIM card with the precision of someone who’s done this before. Then, with no warning, he drops it to the floor and crushes it under his boot.
“You could have warned me,” I snap, the ache in my chest spreading. “That phone had pictures, contacts, memories.”
“And a direct line to you,” he says. “Jason’s not playing games anymore, Mia. If he’s scaring Sheila, he’s close. And if he got close enough to take a picture of the girls sleeping, he could have easily bugged your phone. We need to stay ahead.”
My heart pounds as reality sinks in. Sheila’s trembling voice echoes in my mind, and guilt claws at me. Sheila was always the one I leaned on, and now I’m left to face Jason’s wrath alone.
“Sheila’s all I’ve got outside of you guys,” I say, my voice breaking. “I can’t just cut her off.”
“You’re not cutting her off,” Damon says, his tone softening. “You’re protecting her. That’s what this is about—keeping the people you care about safe.”
I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “This doesn’t feel like protecting. It feels like abandoning everyone.”
Damon steps closer, his hand brushing my elbow in a fleeting touch meant to steady me.
“I get it,” he says. “You’re used to holding everything together on your own.
But right now, you don’t have to. Let us do this, Mia.
Let me do this. I’ll get you a burner phone tomorrow, one you can use to communicate with us. But no one else.”
I think about Sheila’s frightened voice, about Jason cornering her in the dark. Suddenly, losing my phone doesn’t seem so bad.
“Fine,” I say. “But you’d better have one hell of a plan, Damon.”