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I can hear Blue move behind me, but I refuse to look at her. I can’t. Not when the voices start up again and the laughter is so close to deafening.
She doesn’t move fast enough. Not in this storm, not when the memories are spilling out of that locked box in my head like a tidal wave of horror, grief and fear.
Grabbing her corset, panties and shorts, I turn and sling the clothes at her.
“Put on your damn clothes!” I yell.
She stares up at me with violet eyes that are unlike anything I’ve seen. I both love and hate the color. And everything about this woman aggravates the hell out of me.
Unfazed by the way the clothes hit her or the volume of my voice, Blue shrugs a naked shoulder. “The scar under your right eye, Champ. Start talking.”
Fuck the agreement.
I’m not telling her shit.
“And before you tell me you’re not sticking to the agreement, remember how easy it will be for me to walk back into the club, talk to security and escape from you and your buddies. Or I could just hit one of the handy dandy buttons in here and watch as they drag you out.”
My eyes narrow on her.
If Blue escapes from me, Tanner will just send somebody else after her. And there is no way in hell I’ll let that happen.
She shrugs again. “Just saying. If you think I would make an agreement with you again without having something to hold over your head in return, then I’m not the dumbass in the room this time.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m on to the games you play.”
Blood heats my face, the room suddenly hot and uncomfortable.
My hands curling into fists, I pace one side of the room. Every few seconds, I cut glares her direction before looking away again, thinking of how I can get the fuck out of this.
Crawl, Damon…
You think you’re a man?
The blood is all over my hands…
“God fucking damn it! Why do you have to be such a bitch?”
She might as well be filing and painting her nails for how primly she sits, her voice calm despite my behavior.
Blue always stands so calmly in that storm.
“The scar beneath your right eye.”
Anger explodes, the voices and laughter flooding free, a twisted discordance of bullshit in my head. It had been quiet before—so damn quiet since I killed William.
But now, because of her, it’s all returning. It’s too much to think about. I’ve spent years avoiding thinking about those weekends, and Blue might as well be dragging me right back to them.
“My father gave it to me. Is that what you want to hear? He backhanded me when I refused to do what he wanted.”
Blue winces, my words a blow to something inside her that she attempts to suppress or hide.
Her voice is gentle. “What did he want?”
“That’s two questions!”
With a yank she tugs her corset together to begin hooking the fasteners. “Shall I remind you of the terms or hit the button?”
“You must seriously think your pussy is made of gold to be pushing this shit. I don’t need you, Blue. I got what I wanted.”
“What did he want, Damon? You owe me this. You agreed.”
