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She doesn’t know that I’m already well aware of how much I don’t fit into this world. That the lesson was sliced into me years ago.
My chest burns to take a breath, but I’m afraid it’ll come out in a sob. I stumble back, needing to create space between us.
The sweet scent of smoke and cologne fills my nose milliseconds before Damon’s arm wraps possessively around my waist. His voice is a dark warning when he says,“Watch how you speak to my wife.”
Chapter 30
Damon
Rage burns like flames inside of me, and it’s only Misty’s cool grasp on my wrist that’s keeping me sane.
“Apologize.”
Mother’s staring at Misty, mouth agape, eyes wide in shock, before her expression twists into disgust. “I hope it’s temporary.”
“You would hope that,” I say tightly, every muscle tensing to keep myself in place. She may be my mother, but she’s walking a razor-thin line.
I tuck Misty into my side, moving between her and my mother, and lean forward to loom over her. My voice is cold as death when I command, “You will treat her with respect.”
Her throat bobs, and she shifts her weight back, putting on her best fake smile. “Yes, of course. I won’t say a word.”
There’s enough condescension in her words that it makes my skin crawl.
“What did you just say?”
“Well, you obviously want to keep her a secret, dear. I didn’t realize you were this desperate to fulfill your grandfather’s request. I’m sure you have your reasons.” She looks Misty up and down. “I imagine if you only want someone to fulfill the required timeline, she’s a perfect choice.”
Misty flinches as if an invisible hand reached out and slapped her.
I let go of her and move slowly toward the woman who dared hurt her. “You will regret that.”
Slim, cool fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me back. Misty’s shaking her head at me. She tries to smile, but it wobbles at the corner. “Let it go, Damon. You know she’s right.”
“Fuck that.” I switch our grip so that my fingers are entwined in hers and pull her toward the stage.
She fights my grip, whisper yelling the entire way there. “What do you think you’re doing? That’s enough. Let me go.”
I don’t bother answering. It was a mistake to follow her little rule, and I’m going to fix it, whether she likes it or not.
The stage stairs are steep, and I switch my grip to her elbow when she stumbles up them. By the time I get to the microphone, a hush has fallen over the room, and all eyes are on us.
They swing a spotlight, and I pull Misty into my side when she tries to hide behind me. This was inevitable.
The mic’s already on when I speak into it. “I want to thank you all for coming tonight. I appreciate your attention. Let me present to you Misty Everette, my wife.”
Misty gasps, then glares at me, mouthing the words “I. Am. Going. To. Kill you.”
She’s so fucking perfect. “Fuck, I love it when you’re all stabby. Feel free to try.”
Misty is fuming beside me during the car ride home, her nails drumming on the windowsill. But underneath that anger, there are flashes of fear that have the hair standing up on my neck.
After the other night, it’s clear something happened to her, something that I’m determined to find out, even if it’s just to crush the person who made her feel this way. I reach over to pull her toward me, but she slams the armrest down between us like a wall. “You’re a real bastard, you know that?” she says between clenched teeth.
“It needed to happen.”
She exhales sharply through her nose, giving her head a small shake. “You would think that. It’s not going to affect you!”
“You’re an Everette now. No one will dare say anything about you.”
