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There wasn’t any point in taking deep breaths. The smoky air around me kept thickening, making my throat burn as if I were drinking down a bottle of acid.
I blinked a few times, and the haze cleared from my eye. But it made no difference. The room was still shrouded, mostly in darkness.
The only light source came from the emergency exit lights in a distant hallway. An area of the room I could not reach any time soon.
I stared up at the cracked ceiling and exposed beams above me that once held the second story of the club. How much more damage could it take before the whole thing collapsed and crushed me?
Was this the legacy I’d leave behind? Not my architecture or contributions to design, but dying in a kink club.
I guessed it served me right for everything I’d done in my life.
Plus, this was where I’d met Maria, and because of me and my neglect in seeing her obsession with me, her inability to accept that I could never love her and that she’d killed herself.
This could be an eye for an eye situation.
But then again, I met my Sophia here—the woman who made me feel more than sexual attraction. She brought out a side of me I’d never known existed.
I winched as a wave of dizziness rushed through my head.
“If this is your version of knocking some sense into me. I believe we are teetering on the side of overkill,” I said into the void, knowing the only one I could talk to was the Almighty, who probably wasn’t fond of me.
Then, I asked, “Was bringing Sophia into my life and snatching her away in this manner a punishment for me and my family’s crimes?”
Not truly expecting a response, I continued.
“I won’t deny it. Sophia deserves so much better than me. I’m not a good man. I own this. However, she is a good person. Please don’t make her suffer after I’m gone. Find her someone worthy.”
The smoke around grew denser, and I expected to pass out soon as the ability to take in small sips of air grew harder and harder.
My mind drifted with images of Sophia, her smile, her eyes. I could almost hear her call my name.
Wait. That was her calling my name.
“Sophia?” I croaked out, my throat barely cooperating with the blades piercing the inside of my neck.
A beam of light shined across my face, blinding me in the dark and reigniting the pounding in the back of my mind that had only slightly settled.
Was I imagining things as a symptom of traumatic brain injury?
Or did my desperate need to be around her conjure her voice?
“Damon. Oh God. Damon. I’m coming.”
There it was again. I’d rather pass out or something than live with this torture until my ultimate demise.
Suddenly, my head lifted, and soft hands cradled my face, brushing my hair from my forehead.
That touch, her smell—no, this couldn’t be happening.
When a mask covered my nose and mouth, panic welled up inside me. I reached up, and my hands closed around arms I’d recognize anywhere.
No, no, no.
She was supposed to stay outside where she was safe and away from the fire, with no chance of a single flame hurting her.
Why wouldn’t she ever fucking listen? Why the fuck hadn’t Clark stopped her?
He’d done everything possible to keep me from her but decided to let her run into a burning building.
