Page 126 of The Criminal's Custody

“Make... sure... Damon... is... okay...”

I look at my ex as his words slowly sink in.

Damon...

And the next few moments are a fast blur.

Luke sits on top of his dad as I spin around.

I’m in tears.

And I’m on the ground and I am cradling Damon in my arms.

I notice his eyes are shut. There is blood. Redness. A whole load of it.

He is not okay.

My phone is out. I’m calling emergency.

Is he still alive? This man who leaped in front of a knife for me?

I wait for the ambulance, Damon’s motionless head in my lap. His body leaning against me.

I’m crying floods of tears now.

Luke stares at me, his dad pinned below him.

I’m gripping Damon Penmayne’s body.

And I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait...

59

AVA

I stand outsidethe main doors of Damon Penmayne’s mansion and take in a deep, long breath.

When I was last staying here, holed up in that guestroom upstairs, this building was damn intimidating. But today's visit is even more stressful – way more so than those weeks I spent as Damon'sguest- and now this place feels like a nightmare in the flesh.

Today, this mansion comes across even more like a fortress than I remember. It's as if it's been an eternity since I last strolled through those tall, imposing gates, even though it has only been a couple of weeks.

Man, and haven’t these past couple of weeks been absolutely insane...

I knock tentatively on the front door. I mean, I really don’t have to. It is pretty damn obvious the security for this mansion would’ve seen me coming within a mile of this place and would’ve been hella ready for my sorry ass, but I feel like I have to do something to announce my arrival andto just keep my freaking hands occupied. Being here, on a day like today, is making me so terrifyingly nervous.

I’m practically shaking.

The door opens.

It’s Jim standing on the other side.

It’s been a few weeks since I last saw him. All the way back then on the worst day of my life. I remember Jim’s face at Luke’s family house amongst the sea of security and paramedics and police and Damon’s men and blood. He was the one who made me finally let go of Damon’s unresponsive hand after what seemed like an eternity of holding him as we sat in the back of the ambulance being driven to the hospital.

He stayed with me the entire time we waited to hear news about Damon’s critical condition. Him silent. Me pacing. Those bright hospital corridors and endless stale tasteless coffees gave us migraines as we waited and waited and waited.

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