Page 108 of Knight

With my ear to his chest, his heartbeat thumping into my head. I’m warm. At home before the world goes black.

* * *

Opening my eyes, my head aches.

So does my body.

A warm chest presses against my ear, heartbeat thudding to a rhythm, a long, muscular arm around me.

The room is dark. Black.

And the smell … familiar.

Peppermint. Whiskey.

Damien.

I stay there for a few minutes, pressed into his hold before my stomach gurgles.

Fuck. My body hurts like absolute hell, but it doesn’t feel like I’m there for once, Damien’s body engulfing me.

My stomach gurgles again, a burp escaping my lips and I know what’s coming next. My stir makes his heavy breathing stop, his arm tightening around me when I lift the thick black comforter off my body. I’m in a t-shirt. It’s big but smells like him.

A deep, croaky voice fills the room, “Where do you think you’re going?” He pulls at the shirt, settling me back into his hold and I’ll admit, it’s a task to try to get out of it. Not because I’m suffering from a massive hangover, but because I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to feel like this again. “You’re not leaving my sight, Rowland.” He sits up, a finger under my chin as he tilts my head towards him. “I mean that.”

My stomach does a flip, my eyes positioned on his and I’m unsure of what to say before … Oh no. Here it comes.

Damien’s brows lower before his eyes widen and he reaches to the other side of his bed, sticking a black pale in front of me. And it all comes out. The bucket already smells like two-month-old chilli and it tells me this isn’t the first time we’ve used this.

“You can keep that,” he says. “You’ve been blowing chunks in it all night.”

Hearing his words makes me want to hurl some more and I do, the sounds of a demon ringing through the room. He chuckles and when it sounds like I got it all out, he pulls me right back.

“Damien, wh—”

He cuts me off, pressing his lips to mine in a soft, tender kiss. He leaves it with a bite of my lip and my stomach stirs like a blender again. Pressing his head to mine, his stone-y eyes peer into my head and goosebumps rise to my skin, a chill running through me. It’s easy to get a thrill looking into the eyes of the devil.

Last night is a blur. A mess in my head like the human I am today.

My friends hate me.

Willow’s pissed at me for some reason I can’t remember.

And I showed up at Damien’s house drunk off my ass.

Fuck.

Then it hits me. The image of Damien’s hands saving me before I plummet into obscurity.

“I’m so sorry,” my voice comes out like a whisper and I don’t even know what I’m apologizing about.

He shushes me before giving me one of these new tender kisses. “Jo, I’ll never let you fall. No matter how much I hurt. If you were trying to prove a point, you sure as hell did. I’m never letting you go, Jo. Last night … after my dad—” He stops himself, waiting a second before he continues, “These games are bullshit. You’re mine, and that’s that. I’m going to prove that to you until you realize I’m the only person you can trust.”

I don’t say anything, my mind whooshing through the memories. The ups. The many downs. But he goes on, “Seeing you there on that ledge …” He stops, glancing away before he meets my eyes again. “Fuck, Jo I thought you were a goner.” His finger grazes the tree trunk of my tattoo, my scar.

Oh, shit.

Shit.

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