Page 42 of The Last Shadow

What exactly does he think is going to happen?

And that’s when it dawns on me. This is all a game to him, the whole damn thing. Damien’s a master of seduction, and he uses it like a weapon to keep me on my toes.

Is he playing me?

Does he even love me?

I want to believe he does, but now I have a nagging thought there’s something darker at play.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Damien

Frankie wants answers and my plan was to wait a few more weeks, but now my plans have to change.

I can adapt as necessary. I’ve been doing it for years.

I step outside, the crisp mountain air invigorating me. The sun barely peeks over the treetops, and I take off at a jog, enjoying the rhythm of my feet against the earth and the quiet solitude of the mountains.

I need to tell her about my time at Hope House. It wasn’t just difficult; it was hell. A place meant for healing turned into a nightmare where Olivia and I met our demons. That’s why I lost control. Olivia paid the price for choices of evil men, and I can’t ever let that go.

I pause to catch my breath and drop into a set of squats, feeling the burn in my legs. With each squat, I try to push away the memories, but they remind me of that night when we were just children.

After finishing my squats, I stretch my legs, bending to touch my toes and then reaching for the sky. It helps clear my mind, if only for a moment.

I know it’s time to let Frankie in on my past. She’s my wife now and technically, they can’t make her testify against me if she doesn’t want to. But I think she deserves to know the truth about who I am and what I’ve done.

I never planned on falling in love. And now I must use that love to protect myself.

And Frankie.

I run back up the mountain toward the cabin. Today. I’m going to tell her today.

I push through the door, greeted by the aroma of fresh coffee. I head straight to the kitchen, pouring myself a cup and letting the warmth seep into my bones.

I find Frankie at the table, her laptop open and papers scattered around her. She looks focused. I admire her dedication. I take a seat across from her, setting the coffee down between us. “Hello, beautiful,” I say, breaking the silence.

She glances up, a smile breaking through her seriousness. “Hello, handsome. How was your jog?”

“Invigorating,” I reply, taking a sip of my coffee. “But I need to talk to you.”

Her expression shifts. “About what?”

I take a deep breath and let it out. “About my time at Hope House.”

Francesca’s eyes go wide as she closes her laptop. “Okay, Damien. I’m listening.”

“Hope House was a hell I didn’t know could exist in this world,” I start, feeling the weight of her gaze. I know I’ve got her undivided attention. “We had no relatives willing to take us in, so there we were, stuck. Olivia was barely old enough to look after us, and let’s be honest, she was more of a spoiled brat than a caretaker, so it was inevitable. At first, it wasn’t too awful—just grimy, chaotic, and filled with kids simmering in their own anger and abandonment. But then, something changed, and it all went to hell.”

She nods. “I suspect a new contractor took over.”

“Exactly, but I didn’t learn that until years later.” I shake my head, recalling the change. “It was like everything changed overnight. The food turned to slop. The sheets weren’t washed regularly, and the staff doubled up on occupancy. But the real horror? The type of kids who started showing up.”

Frankie leans in with her chin resting in her hand, eyes locked on mine. “No.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, hating that I have to relive this, but it’s part of the plan. I feel my throat tighten as I continue. “About a year—maybe fifteen months after the changes, things got dark. Fast.” I close my eyes, the memories flooding back. “Being quiet and smart made me a target for bullying, especially since I was smaller than most kids my age. But honestly? It didn’t faze me.” I let out a laugh that’s more snort than anything else. “It forced me to learn how to fight.”

“Damien,” she whispers, tilting her head. “Those little shits.”

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