Page 94 of Ruin My Life
His eyes darken—no longer sharp, but shadowed. Dangerous.
“You really think I’m letting you out of my sight after what happened earlier?” he murmurs, stepping closer. He brushes a strand of hair off my shoulder, twirling it once around his finger before letting it fall.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” I say. But the words come out quiet. Small. Even I don’t believe them.
Damon hears the lie too.
His hand moves fast, cupping my jaw and tipping my face up toward his. His grip is firm, but careful. His palm is surprisingly warm against my skin. He lifts me just enough by my neck that I have to shift onto my toes, our mouths only a breath apart.
For a split second, I don’t know if he’s going to kiss me... or tear into me with every jagged edge he’s been holding back.
“You may be good at what you do, Brie,” he says, voice low and razor-sharp. “But this world? It isn’t yours. It’smine. You got dragged into it chasing blood—and once that blood dries, you won’t be able to find the way back.”
His gaze softens—just enough to strip me of any response I might’ve had, if his touch hadn’t already scrambled every thought in my head.
“Revenge brought you here. But even after you find what you’re looking for... the only one who can get you back out is me.”
Something twists in my stomach.
He seems concerned about me—but that doesn’t make sense. He’s Damon King. He’s supposed to be someone I can’t trust. He’s not supposed to care. He used to be a Songbird.
But now… he’s not.
Now, he helps women and children escape bad situations. And maybe what I’m in doesn’t look like much compared to theirs, but it still puts my life at risk just the same.
My voice trembles, but I ask anyway.
“Why do you care if I make it out?”
He doesn’t answer at first. His eyes drag over the curve of my mouth, my jaw, my throat. Every inch he memorizes sends prickles down my spine.
Then, finally, he says it.
“You remind me of someone I failed.”
His voice is raw—quiet in a way that sounds unpracticed. There’s no smugness. No armour. Just regret.
“And I’d really rather not relive those mistakes with you.”
He releases me, and I drop back onto my heels. The space between us chills instantly, colder than the tile beneath my feet.
I should walk away.
I should pretend his words didn’t affect me. Pretend I don’t want to know who she was. What he lost. How that failure shaped the man standing in front of me now.
Because I can’t afford to get pulled into his storm.
But the storm that isDamon Kingmight be the only thing fierce enough to lead me straight to my target—and help me burn him to the ground.
So I square my shoulders.
“We’ll work together,” I say. “I’ll get you into the club. We’ll talk to Lola, find out who hired her. And in return, you help me take down whoever decided to make me their scapegoat.”
My voice lowers as I pin him with the same stare that’s made hardened Songbirds crumble—begging for mercy they never got.
“And when this is over, we go our separate ways.”
Damon studies me for a long moment. His expression is blank—but not unreadable. I can see the hesitation. The war behind his eyes.
