Page 73 of Pawn

“You’re better off without him, Jo!” he calls again.

On the way out, I pull a painting off the wall, smashing it against the ground because it’s the only thing I can do when his words tear me apart. Craig Carson is another pitfall in the hell that is Damien’s world.

I’ve been his fucking pawn for way too long and it ends here.

* * *

“Damien!”

Those three extra mini Jamesons in my backpack were no match for me on my Uber ride back. Craig’s words echo in my head like a bad dream and Damien is the only one who can make it stop.

“You have five seconds to explain to me why you let me go to Craig Carson’s house to whore myself out for your company!”

I don’t even realize I’m in the living room until I’ve stopped yelling. Candles and blankets lay out on the floor, the aroma of delicious spices filling my nose.

But let’s be real, I’m too angry to eat. “And the fuck is all this?”

“You said you wanted a picnic,” Damien replies, eyes narrow like I’ve thrown him off. Well same here, bud. “But let’s circle back to the part about Craig Carson.”

“Did you know?” I ask. “Did you know where I was? You track my phone right?” I pull it out of my jacket, wiggling it like he doesn’t know what a phone is. “Even if Craig didn’t tell you, you’d know where I was today.”

“And where was that, Jo?” He’s reaching behind his ear, pulling out a fat blunt. “Where’d you go? To be a whore for me?”

“So you do know!” Finding the nearest thing to me, a black porcelain skull, I throw it at him but it falls short, bouncing off the floor next to him. “God! You’re such a fucking asshole!”

He’s up from the floor in a flash, quick to get in my face, his chest pressed to mine, his nostrils flaring.

“I tried to make things better but you wanna talk about it? Let’s talk, Rowland,” he growls. “You’re the one who just came back from fucking the corniest dickcheese on this side of the tracks and I’m the asshole?”

“I didn’t fuck him, stupid!” I yell, ignoring the twists in my gut.

He stalls, stopping our walk to the wall. “You didn’t?”

“No, looks like I’m not the whore you think I am.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Rowland?”

“Let me piece it together for you since you’re too much of an idiot to understand.” My back hits the wall, a blur in my eye.

“Careful with that mouth, Medusa,” he warns, my cheeks coming between his palms but I keep going, a tear rolling down my face. There’s nothing to lose now.

“You used me like a whore to get your stupid business back, and now, you have neither,” I say, a tightness in my chest. Everything in my heart tells me not to say what’s coming to my mouth next but it’s like bile, poison coming up from within. “You’re still sad and lonely like you were when I met you, except now, you don’t even have your daddy to take it out on. You’re pathetic, Damien. I want nothing more to do with you. Now, let me go, so I can leave for good.”

His grip tightens. “Stop being so goddamn dramatic, Medusa.” Using all my force, my hands against his chest, I manage to squeeze around him, freeing myself from his hold. He reaches for my hand, his fingers grazing mine with that spark when I head for the foyer but I slip through. “Where are you going? You didn’t even sleep with him.”

“That’s not the point, Damien. I would’ve and that’s fucked up.” Stopping at the living room entrance, I keep my back to him. If I look at his face this will be harder than it is. “What’s more fucked up? You would’ve let me.”

Moving to the bottom of the steps, I yell, “Willow!”

I don’t know where I’m going yet but I’m not staying here. Damien’s right, he is a monster and I’m not turning into one with him.

“The darkest thought? The shittiest thing? What happened to that Rowland?” he asks, following me into the foyer.

“Willow!”

“She’s not here!” he yells, appearing behind me, his chest to my back. “It’s me and you, Medusa.” Good. That makes this easier. I start making my way towards the door, Damien yelling his words. “We killed someone together. You don’t get to walk away from that. Think about what you’re doing, Rowland. We’re literally bonded by blood. We—”

“If you report me to the cops, you’re more of a monster than I ever thought you were.” And with that, I slam the door, a ball forming in my throat.

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