Page 52 of Knight

Pulling my jacket around me, I cross my arms before my eyes land on the thermostat. Walking over, I fiddle with the buttons before I see that it’s on. But as I stand by the front door, it all comes flooding back.

My breathing gets heavy and I start to freeze up, the scene replaying in front of me like it’s happening live.

The gun.

The blood.

So much blood.

I’m seeing Sebastien King’s body lying in front of me and it’s getting harder to breathe, my throat closing in.

BANG!

The shot that started it all rings loud in my head and I can’t fucking take it anymore. I’m running for the stairs, gripping to the rail, my legs shaking as I climb.

“D-Damien?” I’m struggling to call him as I try to catch my breath.

I need him.

“Damien?” I call again when I reach the top of the steps. The dark hallway opens up in front of me, my mind sending me for a whirl as I hold onto the wall. The last time I touched these walls, Damien had me against them. His firm hands all over my body, his lips in every crevice he can find. But now I know what happens when we get together. Evil. Sin.

Death.

Despite all that, in his arms or his presence is where I want to be. Especially right now. Back in this house.

There’s a light at the end of the hall and it looks like it’s coming from the bathroom, the door cracked. There’s a shuffling sound coming from inside and while I wait to hear the telltale signs of a guy taking a piss, I don’t. Instead, as I get closer I hear …

SMASH!

“Damien?”

There’s a shuffle in the bathroom before the door shakes and I know what he’s about to do so I lunge for it. Pulling on the knob, I get to it before he gets a chance to slam it closed.

What I see breaks my heart. I catch a glimpse of the bathroom and it’s totalled. I’m not surprised. His signature when he’s feeling something, anything, is to smash the world around him. Like it’ll all make it better.

“Get out of here,” he says. He’s pressing on the door but he’s not yelling or demanding. He says this like he’s already defeated, his face red and wet. But I’ve been here before, and no matter how ruthless, or brutal he is, I know he needs me as badly as I need him.

“No,” I say, pushing on the door but fuck, he’s strong. So I do the thing that makes me feel weaker and stronger at the same time. I own my feelings. “I need you, Damien.”

Silence.

After another second of pushing against the door, the weight eases, letting me inside. There’s blood coming from his knuckles, the glass shattered above the sink.

He looks more lost and angry than I expect. That makes it easy for me to give in, wrapping my arms around his waist like I did when I needed him at MOCHA. Only a few seconds go by before his arms close in around me, my head against his chest. The longer we stay here, the tighter his hold feels before his head hits my shoulder. His back hits the wall before we’re sliding to the ground, but I don’t let go. I won’t.

Once we’re on the floor, his head drops to my chest and I pull him in my arms as his body goes limp. As if he’s letting it all fall on me.

“He’s—” There’s a wobble in his voice, a choke. “Gone. Just like that.”

“I know, but I’m right here.” I say the words I wish someone told me when my parents passed away, but what he says next leaves me breathless.

“Always?” I’ve never heard his voice sound so little, so broken as if he can’t believe he’s asking me this. When I don’t answer, he looks up at me with glassy eyes. “Say it.”

It’s easier than I think when I let the words through my lips, “You’ll always have me, Damien. No matter how hard I try to fight it. No matter how hard you fight it. We’re too fucked up not to have each other. You and I both know that.”

He exhales, settling into my hold, as if he knows it too.

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