Page 108 of Anger

I fucking knew it.

“And to give you some cash for a deal you have with him.”

My heart climbs back to my chest so fast it can’t be healthy. I feel dizzy with relief, a surge of different hormones and chemicals dumping into my veins that make my legs wobble so much I sit down on the stage in the room.

“But he’s okay? Damon’s okay?”

Priest shifts his posture, his biceps bunching as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against a wall facing me. His chain thumps a few times against the wall from his movement, the sound becoming softer each time.

“Damon’s … uh … well,” he rubs at his jaw again. “He’s fine. He’s spending time with his brother and friends. That’s all I can say.”

He’s okay.

He’s not dead.

Nothing bad must have happened.

My brows pull together. “Then why didn’t he come for his truck?”

“Yeah, that’s a long story, and I don’t really like telling long stories, so all I can say is he sent me for his truck and to give you the cash.”

Still, the questions won’t stop. I have to ask them.

“What happened last night? Was that his father? Did they work it out?”

Priest’s eyes round and then go back to normal so fast you would have missed the reaction if you blinked.

“Last night? No clue. I was at the shop all night. I worked on a new Ford that was brought in until around midnight or so and then headed home to tuck into bed. That’s all I know about last night.”

Annoyance overtakes me. He knows something.

“So, when will I see Damon again?”

A shrug of his shoulder. “Unfortunately, that information is above my pay grade. I’m just here to—”

“Grab his truck and give me the money. You’ve already told me.”

He nods. “Yep. So, I need his keys, and I’ll give you what he owes you, and then I’m getting the hell out of here.”

I sigh and bury my face in my hands. Although knowing Damon is fine is somewhat helpful, it doesn’t answer all the other questions battering my mind.

Lifting my head, I stand from the stage.

“His keys are in my bag in the dressing room. Follow me there, then we can make the exchange.”

My shoulders slump as I lead him out of the back room, my stomach rolling with dread, but it’s my head that hurts the worst.

The damn questions.

You would think the money Priest is about to hand me would relieve some of the stress, but I realize something as we make our way to the dressing room.

I don’t really care about the money.

I just want to see Damon.

Whatever the fuck that means. Maybe I’m doing what I always told myself I wouldn’t do. I’m letting someone close. And the worst part is I’m doing it despite all the red flags flapping in the chaotic winds around him, every one of them a warning that Damon is the last thing I need.

We enter the dressing room, and I don’t bother to look at Priest as I yank my bag from my cubby and pull out Damon’s keys.

---