Page 92 of Surviving the Merge
“What is it that you want from me tonight, Justin?” He was calm but not happily so.
He’d taken to calling me Justin, at times. Made it harder for me to know who I was dealing with. I didn’t like it. I wanted to be his “Just.” I stepped inside, closing the doors. “What do you mean?”
He pointed to the portrait.
“Sam made it,” was all I could say. He stood there, so far from me, looking dark and dangerous. His onyx eyes bleak and chilled, my own personal black storm. Far more frightful than the storm that raged at my back. The sudden clap of thunder held nothing on him.
“She did an amazing job. I’ll have to thank her.” His voice lacked emotion. He was distancing himself from the situation. From me. From Benji. From even himself.
“Don’t do that, Damon. Don’t run from what you don’t want to feel.”
“So that’s what you want. You want to talk. Tell me, Justin, are you my therapist, too? Maybe I should be splitting Julie’s fees with you.” His cock swelled along his leg in the tight confines of his black slacks. A sign of his approaching anger. His anger toward me.
“I’m your…” I trailed off.
Damon turned his head to the side and put a hand to his ear, as if sayingI can’t hear you.“You’re my what? Were you about to sayhusband? Surely, you weren't.”
I was. “Your partner. I’m... your partner.”
“Oh, my ‘partner.’Sounds so sexy.” Heavy sarcasm dripped from every syllable.
As if to demonstrate just how sexy he thought it was, he softened right before my eyes, then turned and ascended the stairs. Thatguttedme. It took me back to that night we’d tried Julie’s experiment. It threatened to reverse all the work I’d done on my insecurities. To how I viewed love. Progress was a fickle thing.
I’d never used the wordmalevolentto describe Damon before, but I could see a hidden part of him that didn’t go untouched by Emilia’s malign influence.
“Stop!” I shouted, trembling where I stood. He faced me, making a show of looking at his watch, feigning boredom. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I asked. “You will not turn your back on me.” I stalked toward him, and he met me at the bottom of the landing. “I have done everything in my power to support you. I’ve cried for you, suffered unthinkable things for you—becauseof you. At your own fucking hands, even. I’ve bled for you!” Heat rose up my neck.
“You’re not the only one—”
“Shut up! Shut your goddamn mouth. How old are you, Damon?” No answer. “Your life is passing you by. My life is passing me by. I want you. I want you with a recklessness that can’t be put into words. But you know what? I can survive without you.” I watched as his face paled. “I did something nice for you. It came from a place of love, and you walked in here and pissed all over it. All because you werescared,” I hissed. He looked away from me.
“You’ve got two choices tonight. You man up and tell me what about that beautiful picture terrified you enough to inflict pain on me, or you put your shit back on and get the fuck out of my house.” I shoved past him and flew upstairs.
* * *
It didn’t surpriseme to find Damon gone after I’d gotten out of the shower. I was surprised, however, when a little after one in the morning, the bedroom door opened, and Damon filled the doorway. I sat up, staring at him, unwilling to be the first one to break. When it seemed like he wouldn’t, I untangled myself from the sheets, pushing my hair out of my face. “Damon—”
“Put something on and meet me in the living room. Please.”
Pulling on underwear and piling my hair on top of my head, I walked barefoot and soundlessly into the living area. I observed him undetected, staring at the mantel deep in thought, I cleared my throat. He shook himself from his brooding and tried to muster what I guessed to be a smile. It fell somewhere between utter exhaustion and sheer grief.
He wore a tank top and sweats. When he left earlier, he had on a suit. Wherever he’d come from, it was done in a hurry. Maybe before he could talk himself out of it.
I thought about asking him if he needed distance. He usually did when talking about his past. But I decided against it. Not wanting to give him the choice. For the moment, I perched on the arm of the sofa, about ten feet away from him and the fireplace, and waited.
“You were right. I was horror struck when I came in to find that picture hanging on the wall. I didn’t have the best day at work, my mood already foul. Then I walk in, and the first thing I see is my brother, whom I haven’t seen in sixteen years. In less than a handful of seconds, I’m forced to deal with my work upset, my shock, my fright, flashbacks of that smile, and then the death of it. Trying to process all of this in such a short span of time was... difficult.
“My mind is sick, Justin. It doesn’t work like yours or everyone else's. I can’t flow through that many spectrums of emotions so fast. I’m not used to it. I handled anger and could maybe cruise through a few other things, but what was required of me earlier? That was Blake’s job.”
“I know,” I said.
“Do you?” he asked doubtfully. He searched my eyes for the answer.
He hadn’t moved a muscle since he started speaking, but he communicated a lot through his stare. I wished he could see himself right now. How beautifully flawed he appeared. Howvulnerable.
“Every time I get comfortable with one step in this process, when I start to think,yeah, I can do this, you or Julie throw a curveball at me. Why can’t I be allowed to relax in my progress for even a little while before I’m forced to face something new?”
“I was only trying to help, that’s all. I could have presented it to you differently. I’m sorry about that, but I think you underestimate what you’re capable of. Don’t allow your fear to control you—”
