Page 12 of Pawn

“You shouldn’t,” I say to Damien. “It’s—”

“You kiddin’ me, Rowland?”

“Look the fuck around us, Damien!” An icy chill flows through my bones, colder than the frosty wind on my face. “It’s only a fucking bloodbath when we’re together so I’m going alone. This is too much!”

When I turn to walk away, he grabs my arm. “No, you’re not.” He turns me around, a finger landing under my chin before he tilts my gaze up to meet his. A shiver runs through me when our eyes connect, my cheeks heating. It’s like my whole body melts into a sticky goo from his touch. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Damien,” I beg.

“Can we have a minute?” He glances at Christian, nostrils flaring.

“We don’t have a minute!” I protest, glancing at my sister in his best friend’s arms.

“I’ll get Willow in the car,” Christian says. “But Jo’s right, we should get going.”

Christian heads for the stairs when Damien asks, “What the fuck, Jo?” He searches my eyes. “You need me. This isn’t the time to be stubborn or stupid. We have to move. Now.”

“Not with you.” My heart booming against my chest tells me how scared I am. How mortified this all makes me. We can’t be together when shit like this keeps happening. “I’ll handle my sister.”

“With what money?”

“I’ll be fine with the bank accounts of the rich kids of Eden.” My sass is back, but it’s only hiding the trembling in my voice.

“What’s your problem, Medusa? You through with us? Is that it?” His eyes search mine as if he’s looking for answers. “After all this? My aunt’s body is hardly cold! My dad just—”

“That’s the problem!” Yelling distracts me from the burn in my nose, the glob in my throat. “Bodies! Death! Secrets, lies and more death! My sister needs a fucking doctor because of this!” I’m unravelling, overflowing like a boiling pot. “I can’t take it! I can’t deal with this anymore and it’s all because of yo—”

His lips come crashing down on mine, cutting me off, turning my brain into oblivion. It’s needy and wanting like he’s been dreaming of this moment for decades.

The tension in my muscles disappears as his tongue moves over mine, his hands coming to my cheeks as I’m lost in his hold. His touch, his kryptonite kiss. He knows what this does to me, knows he turns me into a brainless fucking idiot.

“No!” My hands slap against his chest, breaking our kiss. “You don’t get to just kiss me and make everything okay! Look at this mess!”

“Jesus, Rowland, I’m gonna need you to calm down.”

“I don’t want this!” After another few smacks to his chest, I’m going for his face before he grabs my wrist.

“Enough!” He pulls me close, my hair whipping in front of me, breath stopping in my throat as he peers into my eyes. “Don’t think for a second you’re innocent, Rowland.” His lip curls to his nose like he’s disgusted at my words. “We did this! Or was there someone else helping me shove Aunt Cunty over the roof?” When he lets go I stumble back. “You can’t blame me for everything. Get it the fuck together. Now. Before your sister dies too.”

Shaking his head, a hand through his hair, Damien makes his way to the stairs but I’m too stunned to move.

We did this.

My body heats, night sky feeling like it’ll swallow me whole, my throat closing in.

We did do this. I can try to play the blame game but when Marion threatened to kill Damien, my body lunged into action. Doing the unthinkable.

Like a fucking monster.

He’s right. We’re in this twisted mess together.

It’s hard to stand tall but Willow needs help. So with a deep breath, my legs shaky, my head a fucking mess, I follow the devil deeper into hell.

* * *

Pacing in the clean, hospital hallway, it feels like time slows. Damien sits on the ground next to the room door. He’s changed out of his bloodied clothes, leather jacket over a hoodie, forearms on his knees.

When I glance at him, his hair a mess against the wall, those eyes stay on me. Back and forth as my boots thud against the wood. I’m comfier in an old shirt and PJ bottoms, my own leather jacket on top. It was Damien’s idea to change before coming here. Less suspicious.

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