Page 31 of Damaged

Nice opening, Silver.

I ignored the self-directed insult and stupidly looked down at Dalton’s shoes as if they could explain why I hadn’t heard his approach.

His feet were bare… and I couldn’t stop looking at them.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Sorry,” Dalton responded. His voice sounded normal. Not angry, not ashamed, not confused. I jerked my eyes up.

“Are you hungry? I was going to make you bacon and eggs,” I said quickly as I hurried to the refrigerator and began collecting all the ingredients I would need. “I don’t really know how to cook anything else. There was this morning when Ivan was having one of his moments and wanted me to fix him some breakfast instead of the chef.”

I was on autopilot as I began heating up the pans.

Unfortunately, so was my mouth despite all the warning bells in my head telling it to shut the hell up.

“I don’t even know how I did it. It just kind of came to me when I saw the ingredients in the fridge. I was freaking out that Ivan wouldn’t like the dish, but he ended up loving it. He made me cook it for him every morning after?—”

And just like that, the nerves were gone and all I felt was cold. I focused on the now cooking food as if my life depended on it. At one time, it had felt like it had.

I shook my head. The past was the past.

The sound of a chair being moved just behind me and then creaking as a heavy weight settled into it brought me back to reality. I quickly flipped the bacon so it wouldn’t burn and began fluffing the eggs with a fork and adding salt and pepper to them.

“Did you know the bacon we have isn’t the same as yours? Yours is greasier but it tastes better. Ivan had it flown in since there weren’t many local places that sold it, I guess. Maybe they did but I never went to the store. Ivan’s men did that. I never got to eat much of it but over the last few years, Ivan made me taste all of his food before he ate it. He was sure that someone was trying to poison—” I fell silent as I realized I’d done it again. I’d gone off on another tangent. Thankfully, the food was done, so I had the excuse of needing to remain silent as I prepared Dalton’s plate. Since I hadn’t had a clue as to how much Dalton ate, I’d made a huge portion like Ivan would have wanted.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. Why did that asshole keep invading my thoughts? He was dead and gone. The past was buried six feet under just like him.

I collected myself as I grabbed some silverware and a piece of paper towel along with the plate of food and turned. I was glad to see that Dalton had moved the chair back to the opposite side of the table so that the table was once again between us. I forced my feet to move and within a handful of steps, I was there.

Standing next to Dalton.

I could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne or shampoo or whatever it was. It reminded me of his sweats.

The ones I’d kept staring at where I’d thrown them over the foot of the bed as I’d tried to sleep.

“It looks delicious. Thank you,” I heard Dalton say. Thankfully, my brain had switched over to autopilot because I’d laid out his plate and silverware exactly how Ivan had liked it. I’d even folded the paper towel in half so it would be more like a napkin.

But there was one thing missing.

“I, um… I didn’t know how to make coffee, but you have orange juice in your fridge,” I murmured as I waited for the verbal or physical response to happen.

“Juice is fine. I’ll get it. Why don’t you have a seat?” Dalton said and then he was up and moving past me. I could tell he was moving a little easier today than he had been when we’d arrived at his house two nights before. The faint smell of alcohol and mint drifted over me as he passed me.

The knowledge that he’d had enough alcohol that not even toothpaste could mask it made me nervous, so I automatically went to sit down in the chair opposite him. As he moved about the kitchen, his body still stiff but clearly less pained, I wondered how many pills he’d taken when he’d woken up. I’d yet to see what his waking mood was like after he consumed both things. The previous morning when I’d woken him from his nightmare, I hadn’t smelled any alcohol on him and sure as hell hadn’t tasted it when our tongues had been sliding against one another as we’d kissed just a short time later.

I could feel myself starting to overheat as images of the event began to bombard me.

“Is that enough?” Dalton asked.

Once again, his smooth voice brought me back to the present and all my senses immediately went on high alert.

“What?” I practically barked as I looked up at him. When had he moved to stand next to me and why was he holding his plate of food in his hand? Did he want me to taste it first like Ivan wanted?

“I asked if that’s enough or if you want more,” Dalton responded calmly.

I hated that.

I hated knowing his insides weren’t turning upside down. I hated that I couldn’t read what he was thinking. I hated that I knew he wasn’t going to lean down to kiss me in greeting like Jace did to Caleb whenever they were apart, even if only for a few minutes.

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