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I hear noise in the kitchen and head that way, my stride quick and steps pounding the floor.
Turning a corner, I find Damon by the sink, the water stained pink as he washes his hands.
From a distance, I can clearly see blood splashed on his skin and clothes. His hair is a mess around his head, and he refuses to look in my direction.
I close the distance to notice that his knuckles are busted to hell, his jaw set and shoulders tense.
“What happened?”
He shakes his head, his face frantic.
“Grab some bleach and help me clean up the blood throughout the house.”
“What the hell happened?” I roar.
“Just grab the bleach-“
I grab his shoulder instead and turn him to face me.
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on? Is all that blood yours?”
Damon’s eyes clench shut, a heavy breath pouring over his lips before he opens them again.
“No.”
A surge of cold rage blossoms through me, every muscle in my body locked. This son of a bitch better start talking.
“Then whose is it?”
He hesitates to answer, his stare locked to mine for several tense seconds.
“William came by the house.”
Oh, fuck...
Instead of exploding, which is what I want to do at this moment, I drag in a steadying breath and calm myself down in an effort to counter the chaos of Damon’s emotions.
He’s fighting to disguise his turmoil, but it’s obvious by the way he can’t stay still, a muscle in his jaw jumping as his teeth grind.
“I need you to tell me what happened from start to finish.”
“Nothing,” he barks in response.
I grab his hand and lift it to his face, his knuckles still seeping blood.
“That doesn’t look like nothing.”
Wrenching out of my hold, Damon steps back to put distance between us, his eyes shifting past me before finally meeting mine again.
“He just showed up. I decided to come home early, and within five minutes of getting here, the doorbell rang. We got into an argument.”
“It looks like it,” I answer, pointing out the obvious. “In fact, it looks like you beat his ass.”
“Because I did,” he shouts, pure anger lining his words. “The fucker limped away when I was done. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”
I stab a hand through my hair, my teeth grinding now that I know this.
“Did you answer the phone any of the times he called you?”
