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She hung up and gave Damian the phone. He took it from her shaking hand and pulled her into his arms. She stood stiff against him for a moment before relaxing into him. It felt good to let go.
Strange, but good.
His arms were big and powerful, the kind of arms that could block out the world. She lay her head on his chest, breathed in the scent of him as he touched his lips to her hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this can’t be easy.”
“I shouldn’t care,” she said. “Not after everything that’s happened.”
He pulled back a little, touched her face with his knuckles. “If it’s one thing I understand, it’s the complexity of family. He’s your brother. It’s understandable that you’d care. But right now you have to take care of you. I’d like to help if you’ll let me.”
It was a dangerously attractive offer. Let go. Let someone else take care of her. Let someone else keep making the decisions. Let herself be carried along by the decisions of others. It’s what she’d been doing since her parents died, long past the age when she should have willingly given up her agency to Primo.
She wasn’t a child anymore. At some point she would have to start making her own decisions, but right now there were precious few open to her. Damian was right; she had to take care of herself, and the best way she could do that was to remove herself from the war between him and Primo. Go someplace where she could regroup and figure out what was next.
And then there was him.
Damian.
There was something between them. She wanted to know what it was, what it meant, where it would lead.
She owed herself that much, didn’t she?
She looked up at him. “What do we do now?”
