Page 63 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 5-8
Twenty-four hours.
Damian studied the text Mi Hi had sent everyone. Jun had twenty-four hours to be on a plane, or he would face murder charges, ostensibly. Considering who their opponent was, this could be a social media post blasting Jun or an actual warrant for his arrest. The fact the threat was being made was giving more validity to the mysterious blond man’s assertion that the police chief was dead.
He gripped Jun’s hand. “You’re not going back.”
“Got it.” Jun’s chin was up. Even naked in the aftermath of their play, surrounded by strewn papers from where he had been composing, he looked ready for a fight: eyes dark, body alert, jaw firm. Bak was going to rue the day he tried to sell him.
They would make sure of it.
Damian stood, offering Jun his hand. “We have twenty-four hours. That’s actually a lot of time.”
Jun stood with him.
“We need to get your account of the kidnapping entered as official testimony.”
“How do we do that without going back?” Jun’s entire body was speaking frankly. There was no implication he thought Damian was speaking impossibilities; he merely wanted to know how.
“I’m going to go shake some cages.” Damian found his phone. “I wanted to have our investigation further along before we had to take this step. Do you have Ash and Alice’s numbers?”
Jun nodded.
“Ask them to meet us at my office in an hour, then go wake Richard. Read him in, then shower, and get dressed. Tell Richard I need you to have a suit sorted.”
Jun nodded. He swiped his pants from the floor and slid them up his long legs.
Damian leaned forward and caught him, dragging him in for a kiss. “I’ll join you in the shower. Do you hurt anywhere?”
“No.”
Something was off about Jun’s answer.
Damian raised an eyebrow.
Jun bit his cheek, a smile crinkling up the edges of his eyes. “I’m sore, there.”
Damian kissed Jun’s cheek again. “I’ll put cream on you after the shower.”
“Yes, Alpha.” Jun let just a hint of sass slip into his voice. He nipped at Damian’s hand and darted away.
May that sass and good feeling carry him through what was coming.
Damian knelt down to find his own pants and phone. His hand disturbed some of the pages as he found his device. Dark, bold handwriting stood out on the page.
I wasn’t raised
I was crazed
Not human
Left to the fairies
Now I’m rage
Wilding with a familiar face
Boy in the box
The one you forgot
