Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Damion isn’t here, at least not where I can see him.
“The fridge upstairs is stocked,” Adam says as he joins me, “at least with the basics. We can go to the store later and get you whatever you want. Me and Savage will be close if you need us.”
Savage enters the foyer behind us, and it hits me that Damion could be upstairs waiting on me, and my adrenaline surges all over again. Without a word, I launch myself up the stairs, only to have Adam call out, “There’s a pool behind the house, Alana. Take a swim if you like. It might calm your nerves.”
I don’t care about a pool or swimming or anything but Damion, and I don’t bother to respond. I reach the landing and look left and right. The double doors to the right indicate the bedroom to me, and I rush in that direction, enter, and barely spy the room for my search for Damion. My disappointment is real and fast. Again, he’s not here. The room is empty. I am empty. I rush out of the room and down the hallway, and find the kitchen and gym with no rewards in my search.
With that sense of disappointment absolutely consuming me, I walk back into the bedroom and find myself at the window overlooking the massive rectangular pool with manicured shrubs framing it, sheltering it and another small house—a cottage. Adam’s words replay in my head: “There’s a pool behind the house, Alana. Take a swim if you like. It might calm your nerves.”
It seemed like a random thing to say, but that’s not Adam’s personality. He’s not random in anything he does. It was a message. He wants me to go to that pool, and that must mean it leads me to Damion. I don’t know how, and I don’t care. I just need to find Damion.
I hope. Maybe I’m reaching. Either way, I whirl around, rush to my bag, and pull out the swimsuit I’d bought at the Ritz to swim off my stress. A few minutes later, I’m in sandals, a cover-up, and my suit when I rush down the stairs. Once I’m in the foyer, I find Savage and Adam sitting in the living room, speaking in low tones.
“I’m going to the pool,” I announce.
Adam’s gaze lifts and meets mine. “Good decision. Turn around and go out the back door through the main living area.”
That’s all I need to hear. I rotate, and I’m on the other side of the house, exiting in no time. In a flash, I’m inside those manicured bushes, kicking off my shoes and tearing away my cover-up. I step to the end of the pool and wade into the chilly water, shivering with the temperature, but praying Damion is watching me and that he will come to me. I’m all the way to my neck when my gaze lands on the cottage in the gap of scrubs at the end of the pool.
There were other vehicles when we drove up. We are not alone.
Damion’s here.
And he’s choosing not to come to me. I swim back to the edge of the pool, and frustration starts to form inside me. So many times he walked away from me, and he can’t give me this one time when grief was controlling me. I walk up the steps and sit on the edge, willing Damion to show up, my mind traveling back in time yet again as I remember the last time he tried to walk away. And why? Because of his father.
“You don’t fucking know, Alana. People disappear when they cross him, and I made a few of the calls to Caleb to make it happen.”
“So you implied. I get it. I already said I get it.”
“You’re doing what I did. You’re pretending it doesn’t really matter. You're pretending it’s not what you think. I pretended being the messenger didn’t matter, but it did.” He presses his hand to his face and drops it, a bitter laugh sliding from his lips. “Ironically, it was the guy who I helped him drive to suicide that finally woke me up. He fucking did it in front of me, shot himself, and I blinked, and his blood was all over me. I couldn’t pretend that wasn’t real. Fuck. I need to go out for a while.” He turns, offering me his back, his shoulders knotted beneath his tee.
At this point, everything he’s spoken in the last two minutes is exploding in my mind in mini little blasts of information, but none of it shocks me. His father is a brutal monster, and Damion had already warned me this was coming. He faces me, lets me see the suffering in his eyes. “I’ll be back later.” He starts walking.
I’m gutted by the level of pain I see in his eyes—the soul-deep pain tearing at him and now me—but it’s that very reaction that tells me he’s the same man I fell in love with years ago. Who I still love now, but I’m also furious with him. He’s walking away. He’s leaving. Damn him. “I thought you weren’t doing this again, Damion,” I shout after him. “Every time you just walk away. That’s what’s tearing us apart. I told you I wouldn’t move in with you if you were going to do this, and yet, here we are, one night in, and you're leaving again.”