Page 69 of Knight

“I won’t complain if we never leave,” I say, taking the fry out of his hand and popping it in my mouth. “Who needs Eden?” Who needs anything when I have the devil by my side. When we’re like this, calm chill, coming down from our sex high, Damien makes me feel like my entire history doesn’t mean anything. It’s like two dark pasts make the right future.

Ew, what am I even saying?

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The sound makes me jump. Damien stares at me, chewing on something. “You good, Rowland?”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The sound rings again and I realize it’s not coming from our door, but the images of the last time we were at The Palace still play in my head. The memory of that cold, cell floor still feels fresh.

“I’m okay,” I respond, even though the following knocks make me jump.

There’s a commotion outside. It sounds like cops and a woman in a frenzy.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” I ask as if Damien has x-ray vision.

He gets up, bringing the joint with him and … well, so much for the open window. Opening the door, I’m able to hear what’s happening a little better.

“Merde! What are you doing?” And I recognize that voice. There aren’t many people I know in this town with an authentic French accent. “Do you know who I am?”

I’m pulling Damien’s sweater on but he doesn’t seem to care, standing at the open door in those black boxers that form to that tight ass.

“Wait, hey, let me explain.”

I know that voice too.

“Isaac?” I ask, pulling the arms of his sweater over my hands.

Damien doesn’t look my way when I stand next to him at the door but what I see, makes my jaw drop.

Two cops escort Marion down the hall, one with his arm on her shoulder but she pulls away. “I can walk on my own …” she trails off, grey eyes landing on us. So are Isaac’s and my heart sinks, piecing this all together.

Marion huffs, her chin to the ceiling as she passes our door.

“Good luck trying to steal my company from your cell,” Damien says. “Don’t you know not to fuck with jailbait?”

Isaac looks at us, also standing in the hallway in boxers. He looks even more broken than the last time we saw him. Shaking his head, he turns to walk into the adjacent room. “Thanks, guys. With friends like you, who needs enemies?”

When he slams the door I’m tempted to check on him, but not without giving it to Damien first. “I can’t fucking believe you!” I spit, heading to take the dress from the side of the bed. I pull it on under his sweater, and I’m only wearing his clothes because I’m not in the mood to be in a pretty dress right now. Not anymore. “You said this was a date!”

“It is,” he says, still too nonchalant for my liking. The door closes and he leans against the wall, watching me in my frustrated rage. “But it won’t be if you leave.”

“Don’t!” I’m livid, slipping on my boots. “Don’t pin this on me! Like you said, I’m not stupid, stupid. You used me!”

“Like you used Christian to make me jealous?”

What? Did I?

Pulling a mini of Jack Daniels from the minibar at the end of the room I unscrew it and down it. “That is not the point!” I scream after I swallow. The minibar doesn’t close before I pull out the rest of the bottles. I’m throwing them on the floor before I’m pulling on my jacket.

He arches a brow, “What are you doing?”

“Charging your card,” I say and I hate that he smirks as he’s walking towards me. Those same long strides he took earlier. “All this talk about trust and you can’t even plan a normal date!” Fixing my hair in the mirror there’s redness in my round cheeks, my eyes glazed and it’s not only because I’m half-baked.

“I’m giving you exactly what you expected.” Damien tries to do that thing where he corners me. But like the mouse he thinks I am, I’ve become immune to his trap. I skip across the bed, my boots sinking into the mattress, leaving stains on the crisp white sheets. That doesn’t stop Damien from using his words to trap me instead. “Are you going to pretend like you weren’t waiting for this night to fail? For me to fail you?”

“And that’s exactly what you’re doing!” I want to scream, I want to rip his fucking heart out like he’s doing to mine, but I don’t. I’m heading for the door instead, not wanting to hear another word.

---