Page 93 of Playing Hard to Hate
Damian grinned against my ear, and I fought the wave of nausea that rolled through me.
“Would you look at that?” He sneered. “Prince Charming in the flesh.”
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. I wanted to rip myself free and claw at his face, make him feel as small and helpless as he was making me feel.
But I couldn’t.
He was so much stronger than me. I was completely helpless in his cage.
Griffin’s eyes stayed locked on mine, unwavering.Furious.
“Let her go,” he said again, his voice steady this time, too controlled.
Damian’s fingers flexed around me, his grip bruising. He dragged the tip of the blade against my skin, just enough to make me flinch. Enough to make Griffin tense like he was ready to rip this entire apartment apart.
“Fifty grand,” he snapped, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Cash.”
Griffin took a slow step forward, his voice dangerously even. “I’ll write you a check. You walk out of this apartment and never come back.”
Damian laughed, a cold, hollow sound that sent a chill racing down my spine. “You don’t get to make the terms, Silver.” He pressed the blade harder against my throat, the sting sharp, a single drop of warmth sliding down my skin.
“I’ve got your girl. And if you don’t give me what I want?” I caught his reflection in my vanity mirror. He licked his lips, wildeyes darting between us. “I’ll slit her pretty little throat and watch her bleed out right in front of you.”
The room spun. My stomach twisted.
This was it.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to Millie or Dustin.
I barely had a chance with Griffin.
Damian’s grip on me was tight, his fingers digging into my arm hard enough to bruise. The cold edge of the knife hovered at my throat, but it wasn’t steady anymore. His hand was shaking.Just like that night.
“You kill her, you get nothing, Damian.” Griffin’s voice was low, lethal. “No money. No escape. Just a life sentence, if you’re lucky.”
For the first time since this nightmare started, I felt it.Fear.And it radiated off Damian in thick, heavy waves.
I checked his reflection in the mirror again, my eyes darting between the glass and Griffin’s dark look. Damian’s nostrils flared, fingers twitching against the knife. He was unraveling.
The blade trembled in his grip. His breathing was ragged, uneven. The manic energy in his eyes flickered, cracks forming in the rage.
“No, no, no,” he muttered, shaking his head like he could physically shake off Griffin’s words.
His fingers dug deeper into my arm, sharp enough to make me wince. His hold was slipping. His panic was consuming him.
And then, his next words slipped out, broken and panicked. Words he hadn’t meant to say out loud.
“If I don’t bring back the money…they’ll kill me.”
Everything stilled.
Even my fear, for just a second, wavered beneath the weight of his confession.
Because Damian Voss wasn’t just here to steal money from me.
He was in trouble.
“Who?” Griffin’s voice was low, measured. Careful.
