Page 36 of Brutal Days

My mind still reeled from the conversation with Riley. She was good people, and I liked her a lot. But I wasn’t meant to be a part of her group. The guys had been careful about what they’d said to me. Not Riley. I suspected she would lay into Damon when she saw him next.

Damon and I were using each other—not much more to it. Still, I loved how he was with his family. It was his one redeeming quality I could admit. And how he made me feel when he touched me, but I would take that secret to my grave.

I only hoped he would stay far away from my job while I worked at the restaurant. The money was good, but I wasn’t sure I could hang in there. Mom wasn’t happy. She didn’t want me to work, just focus on school. But her birthday was coming up, and I wanted to get something nice for her as well as take her to that steak restaurant she’d mentioned. It was way out of our price range.

I felt the weight of my purse, and satisfaction made the night almost worth it. My aspirations weren’t too far out of our reach anymore. A couple more nights like that, I could deliver everything I wanted to give Mom for her birthday.

After unlocking my car, I flung my purse on the passenger side and got in. The car was old, without a Start button like Damon’s SUV. His came with every possible upgraded option. I turned the key—and nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, I tried two more times.Fucking Damon.My car’s lack of response had him written all over it.

I yanked my phone from my purse, hands shaking with rage, and had to retype the message twice from how hard I was hitting the keys.

Me:What the fuck did you do to my car?

Three dots appeared, and I called him every name I could think of as I waited for his response.Fuck it.I couldn’t deal with him. I shut off my phone, too upset to read whatever excuse he had, and got out. I locked up, fixed my bag so it hung across my body, and set out to walk home. It would take me a good hour on foot. At midnight, I wasn’t happy about that, but no way would I wake Mom up to get me. And ordering an Uber wasn’t an option. I needed every penny for Mom’s birthday surprise.

It was dark and not necessarily the safest idea I’d ever had. Yanking the band from my hair, I released it from the ponytail and ran my fingers over my scalp, easing some of the tension from having it up. I preferred it down, which meant wearing it up hurt like hell toward the end of my shift.

A few cars passed, but when one slowed beside me, I tensed to run.

“Get in,” Damon snapped in that deep, commanding voice.

I refused to look at him or the fancy SUV he drove. “You treated me like shit. I would rather get murdered in the street than get into your truck.”

“Get in, or I’ll call Gia. Right now.”

I snorted.And say what?“Go ahead.”

He kept pace beside my fast walk and called Gia, putting the phone on speaker. When she answered, her voice sleepy, I tensed. He muted the phone and looked at me with raised eyebrows. The ball was in my court.

What would he say?I swung my gaze to him, horrified. He could ruin everything just out of spite—that goddammed asshole. I yanked open the door and got inside with a huff. A satisfied grin curved his mouth. He hit the button to unmute his phone.

“Hey, Gia. I just called to tell you that I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, and I wanted to say have sweet dreams.”

“Oh, that’s okay. And thanks, they will be now.” Her voice was husky.

I didn’t like it, and I glared at Damon as he sped up and headed toward my house.

“I know you said you’re busy on Friday, but do you want to go out to breakfast Saturday morning?”

“Is that a date?” Damon asked, his voice playful.

“If you want it to be, yeah. I hope so.”

The fucker knew he had me with that one, and his cocky gaze said everything he didn’t. He left Gia hanging, waiting for a response from me. But I planned to get something out of it, too, so I nodded.

“I’ll pick you up Saturday morning then. Good night.”

Gia’s breathy response was full of hope, which hit me with a crushing sense of guilt. But I was involved in the whole thing, so when he popped the snap on his jeans—clearly, he expected something from me right then—I scooted closer.

I undid the zipper to slide my hand inside and around his long, thick hardness. He pulled into the park by my house again—the place would never be the same to me.

Then his hand tangled in my hair, and he gave my head a slight push. I released him and shoved him back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His thumb stroked my lower lip, and I hated how tingles followed in its wake. “I want to feel your mouth on me.”

“No. And if you try to shove my head again, I’ll punch you in the balls. If I want to suck your dick, I will. Are we clear?” I wouldn’t move until I got a response.

“I have something to look forward to, then.”

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