Page 107 of Anger

He’s just like every other man, got what he wanted then tossed me away.

The damn thoughts are back. Circular. Repeating. A hundred different roads traveling in a hundred different directions, all running through my mind at the same time.

Forcing my eyes closed, I’m not sure how much time passes, but my heart kicks up a beat, my eyes flying open and to the door of my cage when I feel the vibration of heavy footfalls up the stairs.

Is everything okay?

Disappointment douses me when it’s not Damon I see.

The man staring back at me rubs at his beard and opens the door.

Giving him a quick look over, I note the plain white T-shirt, a crap ton of tattoos, grease-stained jeans with a chain hanging between his belt and back pocket, and the heavy work boots he wears.

He motions for me to step closer with two fingers. I assume he’s a customer, thinking he’s in for a good time.

“I don’t go in the back rooms,” I tell him, raising my voice to be heard over the music. “You’ll have to go ask one of the other dancers.”

He cocks a brow, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a charming smirk.

“You Blue?”

My feet stop in place, the music forgotten.

“Who’s asking?”

“A friend of Damon’s,” he says.

I rush out of the cage without thinking and follow him down the stairs, ignoring Granger’s dark stare as we pass.

Taking the lead, I direct the guy to one of the back rooms, my heart beating in my throat with both hope and fear.

Maybe he’s just here to get the truck…

Maybe Damon’s in jail for attacking the man at his house…

Maybe it’s much, much worse…

Those thoughts crush in and collide with the rest.

As soon as I shut the door, I start questioning him, unable to stand another second passing without knowing.

“Is Damon okay?”

“What happened after I left?”

“Are you here for the truck?”

“Who are you? And is Damon okay?”

Yes. I repeated the same question.

The most important of the bunch.

The man reaches back then runs his fingers over his head and down the length of his hair.

“Ah, yeah. Uh, I’m Priest. Damon’s fine. I’m just here to pick up his truck—"

My heart falls to my feet.

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