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“Would have been nice to know,” I counter, my hands curling into fists so hard my nails are digging into my palms. “Too bad you couldn’t keep your word and call me or text to let me know. So glad I trusted you, like you asked.”
It’s not like I haven’t been confronted with Damon’s anger before. Hell, at this point, it’s his usual. But something about his expression changes in a way I’ve never seen before. His eyes soften as his lips pull into a weird grin.
He holds up his phone for me to see then slides his thumb over the screen to scroll through a dozen texts.
All of them are to a number two digits off from mine. The first few are information about how Brinley’s doing, but each successive text transitions from information about Brinley to questions about why I’m not responding.
My brow arches as Damon flips to show his call history. Another dozen, all going to the wrong number, the last two digits transposed. None of the calls were answered.
“You have the wrong number,” I explain, my hands relaxing as my posture shifts. “It should be three one at the end, but you have one three.”
The heated anger I had toward him is doused with the cold, cutting truth that he had tried to contact me. He never broke my trust like I thought, and that realization stitches my heart back together.
Damon’s expression softens as well. “You’re the one who typed it in to my contacts.”
I grab his phone, surprised that he handed it over without protest, then search through his contacts. Hitting my name, I shake my head at the error. “I must have typed it in wrong.”
Handing the phone back, I apologize. “That was my fault. I thought you didn’t bother reaching out—“
He places a finger over my lips to silence me, his thumb gently rubbing under my chin. A shiver runs down my spine at the small contact, my body craving more of this man.
It’s my heart that’s insane, though, the beat so fast that I feel lightheaded. Thoughts collide and bounce again, one I can’t fathom coming into focus… I may be able to trust Damon after all.
I’m not sure what to do with that.
Amber eyes holding mine, mischief tugs at the corner of Damon’s mouth. “I know how you can make it up to me.”
Heat blooms between my legs, my breath stuttering for just a second to remember what he does to me in bed.
“I want to see Brinley first. But after that, whatever you have in mind is good with me.”
His grin widens into a breathtaking smile, and my heart beats a staccato rhythm in anticipation for whatever he has planned.
Damon
“This isn’t what I meant by whatever you have in mind.”
Grinning at the annoyance in Blue’s voice, I shake my head at her complaint.
“Listen, you’re the one who wants us to hurry this problem along so that Brinley and you can return to your regular lives. The information I hope to get tonight may just hurry this along. You should be happy, not annoyed.”
“Happy? I should be happy? My best friend took off with a damn murderer. Your friends are all psychotic. And now you’re taking me to the last place I want to go. I could have made a phone call, Damon. The four-hour drive is unnecessary.”
Rolling my eyes, I argue, “Shane isn’t a murderer.”
Her jaw drops. Closes. Drops again.
“He just admitted he murdered Luca’s dad. Did you not hear that conversation? You people have some seriously fucked-up lives and fucked-up family meetings. I mean … damn. I may have known some shitty people in my life, but they weren’t murdering my parents and then hanging out like everything was fine.”
Opening my mouth to answer, I can’t utter a word before she continues.
“I should have known from that party. In fact, Ididknow from that party. People fucking out in the open. A group of shady-ass old fuckers hanging out in the corner garden ogling young women. Emily getting cornered on the stairs by…”
Blue’s brows pull together at that memory, and I quickly change the subject. The last topic I want to discuss is Emily.
I glance away from the road ahead of us to peek at her.
“What did you think I had in mind?”
