Page 135 of Morally Gray Daddies

I wanted to race to Sabrina, to make sure I got there to give her a heads up, but I couldn’t risk catching the attention of any small-town cops along the way. I needed to roll through town as discreetly and uneventfully as I could so as not to risk drawing any attention to myself, and by association, Sabrina.

She didn’t need that. We didn’t need that. And If I was right about what Damon was going to do and what kind of mood he was going to be in–the mood for revenge–he wouldn’t need that either.

So despite all my instincts, I drove through Three Rivers as if I didn’t have a care in the world. I forced myself to stick to my plan and stop at the Dutch Diner to pick up burgers, fries and shakes since I knew there would be no food at the cabin, and on a whim, I added a third to the order.

I managed to get out of there without any chit-chat and if anyone recognized me, they didn’t say anything. Back in the car, I took backroads all the rest of the way to the shitty shoe-box-style home on the outskirts of town.

With each turn I took, with each mile marker I passed, my heart pounded harder in my chest. My throat felt like sawdust. My palms got clammy. I’d say I hoped I was wrong, but that would be a lie.

Besides, I knew I wasn’t wrong, which meant my secret was about to come out.

When I pulled up to the house, the only car there was Sabrina’s rental, a nondescript Lincoln Town Car. But that wasn’t surprising either.

I held my breath as I stepped up to the front door and pushed it open, stepping inside as quietly as I could. All my senses were on high alert.

As soon as I pushed the door shut behind me, I knew he was here. Slipping my boots off, I made my way across the carpet in my stocking feet, careful to not make a sound. Careful to not even breathe.

And finally I heard them. Well, I heard Damon anyway. His voice rose with an anger that made goosebumps rise all over my arms. At the same time, I knew it was justified.

“You think that’s what I’m mad about Sabrina? That you couldn’t stop me from going to jail for crimes I committed, when the whole thing was a set-up against me from the start?” Something hit a wall, and I wondered what he’d thrown.

“Fuck, you know this town is so corrupt all the fucking people that were in charge back then ended up next to me in jail. There was nothing you could have done about it. You were a fucking kid. We both were.”

I heard soft murmurs in response that I assumed were Sabrina, but I couldn’t make out what she said.

I took a step closer to the room they were in–Sabrina’s old room–and sucked in a breath when Damon continued.

“Why am I mad? Why am I mad? I gave up everything for you. I would have done anything. I wasn’t selling drugs for the fucking fun of it. I was doing it so we’d have a fucking shot of surviving on our own. So we could have a fucking shot at a life together. So you could get away from your POS dad forever. And I went to jail for it. And that’s on me. But all I fucking asked of you was one thing. One fucking thing. That you waited for me. That you kept your promise. I was fucking miserable in jail. And fucking lonely. And scared. I was a fucking kid.” There was another crash, and this time I could tell he’d kicked a piece of furniture.

Then there was more soft murmuring, but whatever she said seemed to only fuel his rage.

“You said forever. You said it, but you didn’t mean it, not even for a second, did you?” There was a slapping sound that had me wincing before Damon continued, his vitriol growing more violent. “Lying little bitch. Forever and Always. You didn’t even wait until the cell door was locked, did you?”

I sucked in a breath and padded to the door. Did he know about us? About me and Sabrina? Somehow the media had never connected us romantically, even though we’d been together for years, but now that her past had been revealed, it wouldn’t take long. There was another slapping sound, then, “You belong to me, babygirl. Always and forever. I promised too, and I keep my promises.”

There was a muffled scream, and I knew he was touching her, against her will, hurting her out of some bizarre sense of entitlement coupled with a sick need for revenge.

That was how Damon was. Strong. Steadfast. Loyal to a fault. But woe to the person who didn't show the same loyalty in return.

They got to see an entirely different side of him. The side Sabrina was seeing now.

I inhaled deeply as I prepared to announce my presence. Sabrina didn't know it, but I was about to turn some shit on its head. In a way no one could have ever seen coming.

Sabrina

Salty tears burned my eyes, falling down my stinging cheeks and wetting the edges of the duct tape Damon had used to tape my mouth shut.

To shut me the fuck up so I’d stop arguing with him, stop reasoning with him, stop trying to delay the inevitable.

I couldn't help myself. This entitled rage-filled monster was not the Damon I knew.

To make matters worse there was still a hint of the Damon I knew underneath. There had to be, right? Otherwise, why was my pussy wet when he dragged a hand beneath my skirt and roughly fondled me? Why did I part my legs for him when he shoved his fingers up inside me? Why didn't I fight harder when he pulled the bottle from his bag, drained the liquid inside and began fucking me with it?

If there wasn't a hint of my Damon left, why was I just letting him do these things?

Realistically, I couldn't really have stopped him anyway. My hands were bound above my head, secured to my old brass headboard with industrial strength zip ties and Damon’s thick body was straddling mine.

“Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

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