Page 72 of The Puck Chase

Silence lingers between all of us before Aurora sighs and moves towards Daemon. “I told you they were chaos incarnate-fueled shitheads,” she grunts, before gesturing for him to join her by the window, and to my surprise, he goes without a word.

The four of us watch them as she shows off her sketches and he makes thoughtful and constructive comments, and when I turn to my brother, I find him smiling softly, before he meets my stare and nods. A seal of approval from Everest Monroe, damn, it’s my lucky day.

When we are finally joined by my parents, I introduce Daemon to my dad and Katrina, before we all take our seats around the table to enjoy our dinner. Conversation flows easily, no one focusing too long on Daemon, and thankfully, to my surprise, he doesn’t look too uncomfortable to be here. It isn’t until the plates are cleared that my mom sips her wine and zeroes her stare in on us with a smile.

“So, Daemon, my daughter tells me you are somewhat of an artist yourself,” she begins casually, and I feel him tense ever so slightly beside me, as the rest of the table begins to focus on him.

“I like to paint and sketch,” he replies softly, “But I can assure you she is using the word artist a bit too freely. She is much more talented than I am,” he adds with a laugh, and I hate the way he puts himself down. So before my sister can protest, I cut in firmly, placing my hand on his thigh and squeezing gently.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s insanely talented, I’d say the only thing that rivals his art is his cooking,” I tell them all, glaring at him until he rolls his eyes at me, although for once I see a lightness in his stare that has never been there before.

“You cook too?” Katrina cuts in, giving my father, a man who can barely boil water, a playful nudge, before she adds, “Your mother must be so proud.”

I feel him freeze beneath my touch, and I quickly reply, “His parents aren’t around anymore.” Keeping it simple and tothe point, without getting too deep into the reasons why. I see questions in all of their eyes, but this isn’t the time or the place, Katrina cringes slightly as she looks at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Daemon, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, it was a long time ago,” Daemon replies, more resigned and polite than I have ever seen him, and my mom attempts to rush in and save the day like always.

“You have siblings though, yes? Aurora mentioned them,” she smiles at him, gesturing to my sister, and fuck, this is going from bad to worse. So much so that I don’t catch on to what she said, until my sister jumps in to help her.

“Yeah, two brothers, right, Daemon?” She nods at him, as if in encouragement, but my mind blanks a little, and it’s only then I am reminded of the conversation he and Aurora shared, in the bakery the day they met.

He told her he had an older brother, which is true, I know about Jasper, but then when she asked if he was the baby, he replied ‘No, Ryan’s the baby’. He left so abruptly after that, I had forgotten the conversation entirely, and it’s only now, as I feel his body go completely rigid beneath my hand, that more pieces of his puzzle start falling into place.

“I don’t really see my older brother that often, and my younger brother passed away,” Daemon tells them without emotion. They all gasp, in regret, offering him apologies, but his last few words replay in my mind on repeat, as my head snaps towards him.

My younger brother passed away.

My fingers clench around his thigh, as I add it to the other tidbits of information he has given me, and bile begins to crawl up the back of my throat. His father is in jail for murder and his little brother is dead. Mix that with the array of scars on hisbody, and the fact he refuses to speak with Jasper, and it doesn’t take a genius to work out what happened.

Oh god.

Daemon’s eyes meet mine and I know he sees it, he knows I know and I fucking hate the way his face instantly turns into that fucking blank mask he used to try and fool me with. So much so that I stand abruptly, my chair falling back to the floor, as I stare at him wordlessly, before moving my gaze to everyone else.

“It’s been a long day, and we’ve got that early appointment,” I start, searching quickly for an excuse, and I hear Daemon’s soft sigh, as he rises to his feet beside me. “We’re going to head up to bed, excuse us,” I add on quickly, leaving the room, as my body begins to shake, and I hear him give them all a polite goodnight, thanking them for the meal, before following after me.

I swipe a bottle of liquor from the bar cart on my way upstairs, and don’t stop until I reach my room. When he joins me, I am already choking back a deep swill, and he watches me without emotion.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” I force out, my voice breaking before I can even fully ask the question, although he doesn’t need me to elaborate. He knows what I’m asking, and all he does is nod, just once.

He doesn’t make any move to come further into the room, sticking by the door like he is ready to escape. Which is only intensified when he replies, “I understand if this is too much for you, and you want out.”

His words have me barking a laugh. “Out?” I ask in disbelief, shaking my head and drinking deeply, until my throat burns as much as my eyes. “I don’t want fucking out, Daemon, I want in,” I snap back, storming toward him until I have him pinned to the door. “I’m falling so fucking hard for you and I have no idea if you’ll catch me. I want in so fucking badly, but every time I break down one of your fucking walls, there is another in its place.” I’mbreathing heavily by the time I’m done, just waiting for him to fucking run again at my confession, but his entire body stills.

My words penetrate his mask, his eyes widening in distrust, as he searches my stare, and asks, “You’re falling for me?”

“For the last three fucking years, baby, so please will you just let me.”

His mouth is on mine before I can take another breath, kissing me so deeply I can feel him everywhere, and when he pulls back, he drops his head to mine. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just please don’t leave me. I’m so sick of everyone leaving me, I can’t lose you too.” His words are so filled with loss, pain, and fucking ruin, that they tear me apart, his breaths coming in fast, as he starts to panic.

I drag him to the terrace, the cold air closing in around us, as I lead him to the chairs in the corner and turn on the fire pit, only leaving him to grab a blanket. Once I have it tucked around us, I hand him the liquor and he takes a drink, his eyes never leaving mine. I wait until he takes another breath and nods, then I speak.

“Tell me everything.”

And he does, all of it, every last detail. From his mother’s death, to his father’s drinking, his brother leaving, the power, the abuse, all of it pouring from his mouth, as tears track down his face, and when he tells me about the night his father killed his brother, I cry with him. My heart is filled with so much love and hatred, that I’m not sure how he survived it all alone. I totally understand why he doesn’t let Jasper back in and keeps everyone else away, because he’s already lost so much. He’s looking out for himself the only way he can, in a way nobody ever has before, and all I want to do is share the burden.

“Why did Jasper come to see you at the rink? If he knows you won’t talk to him, why does he even try?” I ask, taking one last drink from the bottle, and handing him the last of it.

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