Page 32 of Knight

Damien is still knocked out as I head for his bedroom door. With my hand on the knob, it feels like this might be the last time we’re in a room together without being at each other’s throats. Or without Damien breaking my heart, but that breaks my heart more than his words ever will.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Christian: I’ll come to get you.

I’m opening the door before I text him back and when I do, Damien’s voice comes from behind me. It’s croaky, tired, but with just two words, I’m frozen in my path.

“Don’t leave.”

The lump I swallow in my throat goes down hard. “Wh-what?” I turn around, the phone clutched against my chest.

He’s wincing, squinting as he sits up in his bed. “I said, don’t leave.”

“I think I’ve done enough.” Letting go of the knob, I cross my arms. I should be running for the hills, but here I am, entertaining his bullshit.

“What if I die?” The smirk he gives me tells me he’s feeling better. “Like my—”

Picking up a sock from the floor of the door I whip it at his head before he winces again.

“Shit, you really are a murderer.” He rubs his head before I turn around. “Jo, wait,” he calls again and I’m so fucking stupid that I stop. Again. “Please?”

He looks pale when I turn around, clutching his stomach before he leans over the sofa, more puke spewing from his mouth.

Hell.

We’re both in hell.

Rolling my eyes and cursing myself, I close the door before pulling his garbage bin from below his desk. He aims for that when he spews again before looking up at me, hair over his watery eyes. Pulling himself back up in bed, he settles against a pillow on his black velvet headboard. He still looks a mess.

A beautiful mess.

Sighing, I text Christian. He’s not going to like it but I do.

Jo: Nevermind. Damien’s sick. Txt you in the morning. Thanks for everything. xo

I put my phone on silent so the guilt from Christian doesn’t chew at me before I get a damp cloth for Damien’s head. Once the towel’s on his forehead, I get him another bottle of water from the bar near his desk.

“Who do you keep texting?” he asks, voice hoarse.

“What’s it to you?” Of course, Damien King is dying from a hangover and he’s still a jealous prick.

“What kind of a question is that?” he scoffs. “Is that him? Is that Christian? Are you that stupid to bring him here?”

The frustration builds again and I’m already regretting my decision. “Why does it matter? You don’t give a fuck about me. I should be at home, with my sister who almost got diddled by another one of your friends, but here I am. With you. Nursing a self-inflicted hangover of whatever fucking cocktail you decided to self-medicate with.” The words spew out of my mouth, just like the bile that spewed from Damien and there’s no slowing me down once I’ve started.

“Did it work?” I continue, Damien watching me like his favourite team. He’s rising from the bed, making his way to me but I don’t care. I keep going, “Did all the alcohol, the pills and the blow to your brain make you forget about what happened? Did it make you forget about me?” The lump forms in my throat again, my eyes blurry before I even realize what’s happening. “Is that what you’re trying to do?” His words ring loud in my head again. Didn’t you? “I didn’t kill your dad, Damien! I didn’t do it and you know that!”

His arms are around me before I can tell him to go away and once I’m in his hold again, my muscles betray me. My body relaxes like he’s a human-sized teddy bear and all I can do is cry, my tears landing on his bare chest. His heart pounds against my head, and I can hear every thump. A quick tempo.

“Jo,” Damien’s lips land on my head in such a tender touch that it startles me. “I’m sorry.” My head falls against his chest and his hand comes to the back of my head, holding me like a prized pet before I’m lifted off the floor.

I’m not sure where he finds the energy, but he scoops me up in his arms, just like Christian did Willow and … it feels good. Really good. He brings me back to his bed, his arms around me so warm, so … perfect, that I don’t even realize when I drift to sleep.

* * *

Warm bodies writhe together.

Buzzzzzzz.

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