Page 7 of Damian
And just like that, my messy, mumbled thoughts weren’t just fiction anymore. They were a thread that might lead me back to Ruby.
6
Morgan
The farmhouse quieted once the maps were folded away and the computers dimmed. Cyclone prowled into the kitchen to start another pot of the world’s worst coffee, River leaned back in a chair with his boots propped on the edge of the table, and Damian disappeared into the corner with a cleaning kit and his rifle. That had to be the cleanest rifle on earth.
I sat in the middle of it all, small and restless, trying not to fold into myself.
River noticed first. “You always chew your lip like that, or is it just our company?”
I startled, then touched my mouth with the back of my hand. “Bad habit,” I admitted softly.
“Don’t stop,” he said with a grin. “Makes you look like you’re thinking of something wicked.”
Heat shot into my cheeks. I wasn’t used to easy teasing like this. With Ruby, sure — she lived to poke fun at me. But with men like these, soldiers with hard eyes and harder voices? It disarmed me more than threats ever could.
Cyclone set three mugs on the table, dark liquid sloshing. “Drink. It’s awful, but it’ll keep you upright.”
I wrapped my hands around the chipped mug, grateful for the warmth. “Thanks.”
He eyed me for a long moment, like he was measuring. Then he asked, “You really write thrillers?”
I nodded. “Mostly mysteries, but the last one… I guess it got too close to the wrong truth.”
River whistled low. “Bet you didn’t see that in your publishing contract.”
I smiled despite myself. “They usually don’t cover armed kidnappings.”
Cyclone chuckled — a rare, gravel-deep sound. “You mumble when you think. You know that?”
My face went hot. “Sorry. I try not to—”
“Don’t be sorry.” He shrugged. “You’re quiet, but your head’s loud. That’s not a weakness. Just means you see angles the rest of us don’t.”
The words sank deeper than I expected, softening the knot in my chest. For the first time since Ruby vanished, I didn’t feel like a mistake everyone had to fix.
I sipped the bitter coffee, glanced at them both. “You two have known Damian a long time?”
“Too long,” River said, smirking. “Back when his accent was thicker and his temper was shorter.”
Cyclone shook his head. “He hasn’t changed much.”
They both laughed, and the sound loosened something in me. These men weren’t just shadows with rifles. They were… human. A little rough, a little strange, but human.
For the first time, I leaned back in my chair, my shoulders unknotting. “Ruby would like you,” I said quietly. “She’d make fun of you, but she’d like you.”
Silence lingered for a beat. Then River tipped his mugtoward me. “Then we’ll just have to bring her back so she can.”
I swallowed hard, emotion stinging my eyes. I ducked my head, pretending to focus on the steam curling out of my cup.
Damian’s gaze burned across the room, steady and unreadable. But for once, instead of making me nervous, it made me feel… safe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone in this fight.
7
Damian
From my corner, rifle parts spread across the table like a surgeon’s tools, I watched Morgan laugh.
