Page 26 of Damaged & Deadly

I may not understand the emotion, but I know that’s what I’m seeing written on his face right now. “Yeah, I do. I think I always have.”

“If I were a better man, I’d walk away and let you have her.” Only I’m a selfish asshole, and there’s been a crack in my chest since the day she crashed into me in the club. I’m bleeding out, or maybe I’m breathing for the first time. I’m not sure if I’m dying or coming alive, but either way, I don’t think I want it to stop.

“Nah, man.” Looking up at me, Lor’s eyes are full of sincerity. “You need her, and if we’re actually going to go along with this ludicrous plan, then she’ll need you too.”

Unable to look at him, I tear my gaze away, shaking my head. I don’t believe him. What could I possibly have to offer her? I can’t love her the way he does.

“You love her in your own way. You’re probably the only one who will put her above all else. You’re not after vengeance or revenge or justice. She’s your salvation—the one person who can keep you from falling into the darkness. If everything goes sideways, she’s the first thing you’ll think of. Her safety. Not killing your father, not getting revenge, or righting old wrongs. Her. She deserves someone who will put her first. Who will burn down this city and everyone in it to keep her safe.”

Mulling over his words, I bend down to kiss her bare shoulder. She hums in her sleep, a soft smile lighting her face as if she knows it’s me.

“What about the other two?” I ask quietly.

“No fucking clue. Probably can’t kill them before we find out what their plan is.”

“Mmm,” I agree, although we both know we won’t actually be killing them. No harm in playing it out in my head, in any case.

“Are we really going to go against my father?” We didn’t get to talk about it much earlier. Lor was too pissed off to have any sort of constructive conversation.

“These last few hours have been pretty much perfect, right?”

My eyebrows draw together, confused as to his change in topic.

“Uh, sure.”

“We won’t have many more moments like this. It won’t be long before your father sees the influence she’s having on you. My presence already threatens him. Imagine how furious he will be when he realizes I have nothing on Sawyer. Marrying her only delayed the inevitable.”

My lips flatten into a thin line, not liking his insinuation one bit. I know he’s right. My father has always abhorred my friendship with Lor.

Friendships make you weak.

You can’t rely on anyone but yourself.

Finding out that we are fucking has only intensified his efforts to tear us apart.

“As long as he’s alive, she won’t be safe,” he murmurs, voicing my thoughts. “But he’s not my father. You know how I feel about him.”

The irony is, he’s never been a father figure to me, either. Father in name and blood only. He hasn’t done anything to earn the loyalty and servitude I’ve given him all these years. Yet, I played along, happy to just trundle through. Now, as I stare at the perfect angel lying in Lor’s arms, I realize that, even in the short period of time we’ve known each other, she’s given me more than my father ever has. The spark of life in my chest that my father tried his damndest to snuff out, she instead kindles. Rather than ignoring it, she makes me question it; analyze it. She challenges me, pushes me when others would run away screaming, but she also knows when to back off. When I’m at my admittedly very restricted emotional limit.

I knew for sure that my survival depended on her that day in the office at the club, when she asked me who I was. No one has ever asked me that before. Everyone sees what they want to see. They draw their own conclusions. But not her. She saw past my name, my position, my indifference.

“Are you saying you never get angry, never lose your temper or lash out at those around you? You say you don’t feel pleasure, but you’re hard, so you must like something. I don’t think you can’t feel. I think you just don’t know how to recognize those positive emotions. So when you do feel something out of the ordinary, you don’t know how to handle it.”

I’ve often replayed those words in my mind while I’ve laid here late at night in the dark, thinking of her. I don’t know how she was able to deduce any of that. She hardly knew me then, hardly knows me now. Yet somehow, she saw right into the center of my being. She saw a part of me that I myself can’t even comprehend.

I don’t think you can’t feel. I think you just don’t know how to recognize those positive emotions.

I’ve often wondered if she was right. I’m still not sure, but regardless, I’m not willing to give up the chance to find out. I’m not willing to give upher.

Reaching out, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I won’t let him hurt her.” The steel in my voice says it all, and when I lift my eyes to meet Lor’s gaze, he sees the decision written in them.

“Guess that means we’ll have to play nice with the Rejects then.” He rolls his eyes, scrunching his face like the idea physically pains him. My own dislike for that idea makes itself apparent. Choosing not to dwell on any of it tonight, I push it to the back of my mind, and with my hand on Sawyer’s hip, I pull her against me. She’s the only thing that matters. My father thinks he raised a loyal soldier, a ruthless monster capable of anything. And he did, I’m just not loyal to him.

***

I can see the morning light through my closed eyelids before I even open my eyes, but the sight that greets me when I peel them open is more beautiful than anything my dreams could conjure. I’m met with brilliant blue eyes that steal my breath, leaving me speechless, just like the first time I fell into them. Until our wedding night, I’d never slept beside someone all night, never woken up beside them. I stare deeply into her eyes, knowing I want her to be the first thing I see every morning.

With her head resting on my pillow and her hand tucked under her face, Sawyer lies watching me with a serene yet curious look. The bed sheet is wrapped around her otherwise naked body, and her outfit is finished off with Lor’s arm as a belt wrapped tightly around her waist. His face is buried in the crook of her neck, the steady rise and fall of his shoulder indicating he’s still sound asleep. Watching the two of them lying side by side as I recollect what the three of us did last night, drapes a warmth over me like a weighted blanket, providing me with a strange sense of calm that I can’t place.

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