Page 126 of The Pact

Bending down, he places a straw in front of my mouth. “Drink.” I don’t argue, pulling in large gulps of water.

He sets the glass down on the nightstand and joins me on the bed. I’m still puzzled by all of this. Damian’s never been this…tender. “Why are you acting like this? You don’t have to stay here with me.” I don’t mean for it to come out harshly, but it does. I soften my face so that he understands that I’m confused is all.

His fist props his head up, while the other hand skates from my shoulder to my wrist. Damian’s brows pull tight. “What do you mean? You were punished. Now I need to care for you.”

“Why? Why do you need to?” I’ve never heard of such a thing. Punishment is followed by a cold shoulder, tension, anger, silence, guilt. Is he feeling guilty? “I’m not upset that you punished me, Damian.”

A soft smile tugs at his mouth. “I know you’re not. Just because I punished you doesn’t mean I don’t…” he pauses, rethinking his words. “You still need aftercare.” He must see my confusion. “Aftercare is a way to take care of each other after a punishment or sex. You might need certain things after what I did. Your emotions may be all over the place, you may feel confused, you might be in some pain, or feel physically drained.” He brushes a stray hair from my face. “It’s my job to make you feel reassured, feed you, give you water, ease your pain, talk, cuddle, or even give you space. Whatever you need to feel safe and connected with me afterwards. Is there anything you can think of that you want right now?”

I’m processing his words. I feel fine after my punishment. I’m more shocked than anything by his actions now—I expected him to walk away like it was nothing. Lying here, I try to work through my feelings.

My parents never physically punished me. Theirs came in looks of disappointment, being ignored, chastised and criticized, leaving me feeling unbearably low after. However, that was the aftermath. At the time, I was just happy that they were paying attention to me, even if it was negative. The low came when they walked away.

I feel the first prickle of a tear. I hate that I can’t stop it as it rolls down my cheek. Fundamentally, I understood the consequences of my actions, now and when I was younger, but it’s only here I’m realizing I needed affection afterwards. I needed to know I wasn’t a bad person, that I hadn’t ruined anything, and was still worthy of love.

Damian’s finger comes up and brushes the tear away. “I think I need you to reassure me.” I feel silly even saying it. “And maybe you could hold me for a little while.”

He smiles, satisfied with my requests. His arm drapes over my back and he scoots in closer. “Look at me, princess.” I obey. “You did so good for me. I’m proud of you. You’re very special to me. You’re perfect.” Damian whispers these things to me repeatedly. I realize I feel entirely safe with him, in a way that I’ve never felt safe with anyone before.

“Do you need aftercare, too?” I question, unsure if it goes both ways.

Damian stills. “No ones ever asked me that before.” I meet his gaze, yet his eyes shift away, like he doesn’t want me to see what he’s feeling. “I like this. The closeness. And I want to know if you enjoyed what we did or if there’s anything you’d want me to do differently.”

I turn on my side, letting the ice pack fall away. Tucking myself against him as closely as I can, I give Damian what he needs. “I enjoyed it very much. I didn’t realize I’d like something like that,” I confess, hiding the heat rushing to my cheeks as I bury my face in his chest. He holds me tightly, like he may never let go. “Thank you for letting me give you permission. It made me feel I could trust you if I wanted to stop.”

He lets out a breath of relief and he kisses the top of my head. “Thank you, princess.”

I’m not sure how long we’re lying there in silence enjoying the matched rhythm of our breathing, but Damian eventually speaks and it’s not what I expect.

“It’s not a lot, however, I have some information on Gavin.” My head pops up at the mention of my ex’s name.

“And?” I ask impatiently.

“I had a friend near Atlanta check out his house—”

I interrupt. “You found his address?” He levels his gaze at me and gives me a look that says finding the address is child’s play. “You could’ve asked me,” I mumble, but considering I gave him a hard time initially when he asked for Gavin’s last name, I can understand why he didn’t.

“He drove by a few days in a row at different times. His car is always there. I didn’t find any other vehicles aside from the Mercedes registered in his name. Does he have another one he uses?”

I shake my head. How did he find out what car is registered to Gavin?

“So he’s either back home and done with the threats or…he’s making sporadic trips up here to unnerve you.” Damian runs a hand through his auburn hair. He looks exhausted. Guilt hits me. This isn’t his burden to take on. While I hate keeping the texts from Gavin and the possibility of him coming into their home a secret, I’m comforted in knowing that I’m sparing Damian a little of the worry. I can handle some of this on my own. “I had my buddy put a tracker on his car so that we can see when he leaves. In the meantime, I…” He seems nervous. “I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

Considering I disobeyed him the last time he told me not to leave, I understand why he’s apprehensive. Although things have changed. Something between us has shifted. I know without a doubt that he will protect me, possibly at all costs. Him putting the tracker on my ex’s car is proof of that. It should scare me, at least a little, that he can do things like find personal information and keep tabs on people, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel safer.

“I can do that.” Damian’s eyes open in surprise. Satisfaction rolls over me, knowing that I’m giving him something he needs. This is how I’ll get him to open up to me, even if it means sacrificing some of my independence.

He takes my chin between his fingers and pulls me to his lips.

“Jesus, Damian.” The harsh voice breaks our kiss and I turn to glance over my shoulder. Cole is standing in the doorway, staring at my ass.

“I’m good, Cole,” I rush out, unable to help the grin that spreads. “I liked it.” Something unfamiliar flashes over his face, his blonde curls swaying over his brow as he shakes his head. A rush of humiliation runs through me and I pull the corner of the bedspread over me to cover my lower half.

Damian’s arm tightens around me. “Cole,” he warns. It’s enough to make his brother’s face soften. “We need to have a talk later.” And that hardened look returns. There’s tension brewing between them that makes me uneasy. I can’t help wondering if it’s my fault.

Maybe Cole’s feeling neglected. Maybe I’m not doing a good enough job at spending time with each of them equally. My mind races trying to think of the last time Cole and I had some alone time. Then, if I’m neglecting Wes, Sutton, or Damian as well.

Cole is the priority right now and I make a mental note to spend some one-on-one time with him.

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