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“My mother died when we were ten, and that’s when things took a dark turn.” The most sinful smile I’ve ever seen appears on his lips, and it makes me shiver with actual fear.
“Thankfully, the fucker is dead now. A bullet to the heart will do that, though. In the end, he got what he deserved. The scars he left on my brother and I might not be visible to the naked eye, but that’s because they’re more than skin deep.”
When I get the courage to look at him again, I see a sadness in his eyes, and I understand what he’s saying. His father did this to him, trained him, taught him to be this man, and it’s not something he can change—or give up. He didn’t have a choice, and I’m sure he hates that.
“And your brother? Xander? What happened to him?” I hate to ask more questions, to dig deeper, but I want Damon to tell me everything. I want to know him inside and out, even if that includes learning about his sick, twisted brother.
“He took the brunt of the pain. He took the beatings, the jobs. He became father’s right hand, and because of that I’ll never be able to repay him. He protected me when mother wouldn’t and when our father wanted to kill me.”
I gasp, but Damon continues as if he didn’t hear me. “But that doesn’t mean I like him the way he is. I care for my brother. I care about him because he is my brother…my blood. But blood doesn’t always mean family, and I hate knowing my brother is a crueler monster than our father ever was. I hate that he let our father control him, train, and groom him to be the leader of our family, and that even after our father died, Xander could have changed—he could have become better, made the family better—but he ended up becoming just like him…worse even.”
I lift a hand to my throat, knowing the bruises are still there. Damon would never do that to me. He’d grab me, stop me from going somewhere, pin me down, but he’d never rip the air from my lungs. He’d never look at me with a hunger to kill.
Not the way Xander stared at me when he pinned me against the wall.
Damon clears his throat, breaking my train of thought. “He will pay for touching you, Keira. He knows you’re mine, and he touched you simply because he knew it would hurt me.”
“He looked at me with a desire to kill.”
“And he would’ve killed you. I know, because he is my brother. I know what makes him tick. I know what sets him off. But he didn’t because he has other plans for us. I’m not stupid. He wouldn’t call a meeting like this after years of being absent from my life without having some type of plan, and he doesn’t let anyone live unless they serve his purpose.”
The thought terrifies me. Does that mean he’ll kill Damon and I outright? I don’t want to die yet, not when I’ve just finally started to enjoy life again. I’ve lost so much already—my parents, my brother. But Damon has too. He lost both his parents and technically his brother.
“Did he kill your father?” The question is on the tip of my tongue. I feel I know the answer, but I want Damon to confirm it.
“Yes. Not that the bastard didn’t deserve it. It changed him, though. It made him evil.” Damon sighs, and I can see the conversation is bothering him. I don’t want to ruin our morning further.
Desperate to change the subject, I try to think of something else to ask. “Does it matter what I wear tonight? Is it the kind of dinner party you dress up for? Because if I’m expected to wear anything besides jeans and a T-shirt, we’re going to have a problem.” I force a smile, trying to lighten the mood.
Damon doesn’t skip a beat. “I’ll have Candy pick you up something, and you can dress at the club. I have to swing by there before dinner anyway. It’ll work out perfectly.”
The thought of Candy picking clothes out for me sounds scarier than going to dinner with his family. My face must reflect what I’m thinking.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her to keep the dress PG-13. Though I’d love to see you in something that shows off your body. But I don’t want anyone in my family, especially my brother, to see what’s mine.”
My body tingles, and I have half a mind to go kiss the hell out of him, but I can see he’s still facing his demons and I don’t want to push him over the edge…not yet. Instead, I remain seated, feeling protected and cherished, hoping like hell we can make it through tonight and come out together on the same side.
