Page 63 of Ruin My Life
My blood runs cold.
The text is simple. Polite.
But alsoterrifying.
They already know. They have to. No one sends a message like that unless they’resureI’ve already failed.
My fingers hover above the screen, trembling. It’s like I can feel Damon behind me again, watching from the shadows, his breath grazing the back of my neck.
If you ever breathe a word about what you know, I’ll find out.
And I don’t doubt that for a second.
My thumbs move on autopilot.
Me:
Our deal is off.
I can’t get the information you asked for.
Please do not contact this number again.
I hit send before I can second-guess it. Before fear rips the phone from my hands. I power it off and place it face-down on the counter, like that might somehow sever the thread between me to whoever’s on the other end.
I run my fingers through my hair. Still damp from the bath. Still tangled from the chaos of the last twenty-four hours.
Get it together, Brie.
I need to refocus.
I’ll find what I’m looking for—without backroom deals or anonymous handlers.
I’ll forget about Damon.
About his brooding, brutal inner circle.
And I’ll go back to what I’m good at.
Hunting Songbirds.
Chapter Thirteen
Damon
ALL IT TOOK WAS ONE CURSORY GLANCEat the cameras Lee installed in Brianna’s apartment—and I’ve devolved into a fucking lowlife stalker.
I’d pulled up the feed after a long, overdue sleep that bled well into the evening. Her place still bears the scars of last night’s invasion. The mangled lock on her living room window is barely hanging on, and Connor’s blood is still splattered across the fibres of her white rug like some violent signature.
I was already looking into window repairs and rug replacements when she stepped out of what I assume is her bedroom—wearing nothing but a flimsy white robe.
And I nearly choked on my own breath.
Her chestnut-brown hair, still damp, has darkened to the colour of melted chocolate. Her skin glows with residual heat—rose-toned, sun-warmed, soft. She’s almost too much to look at. Like a painting hung in a museum you’re not supposed to touch.
Maybe it’s a good thing I let her go. Because she’s already becoming an addiction.
And addictions like her?
