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My veins freeze at the memories of another time, a different man pinning me from behind. My muscles seize, cutting off my breaths. No, no, no. Please, no. I grip the sofa, trying to hold on to the here and now.
I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.
I repeat the words in my head, trying to surface from the fear, but I can still feel Thomas’s clammy hands holding me in place, the sharp edge of his blade cutting through my skin.
I’m in Boston. He can’t get me. I’m in Boston. Boston. Boston. Boston.
The chant in my head slowly grounds me enough that my surroundings trickle back into my consciousness. My face is buried into something warm and hard, and the scent of cigars and cologne fills my lungs with each breath. Strong arms are wrapped around my middle, holding me up, but the terrifying feeling of being trapped is gone.
Damon.
“It’s okay. Shhhh, Misty. It’s okay. I promise nothing can touch you now.” He splays his fingers over my back, spanning from my ribs to shoulders, and strokes up and down over the thin fabric of my dress, murmuring reassurances in my ear. “I have you. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.”
I let out a shuddering breath as his strength slowly infiltrates my mind, burning away any memory of Thomas. He’s gone, and Damon will never let him get me back. The realization that I feel completely safe with Damon rattles me. I’d purposely set out to make one of the most dangerous men in the city jealous, and I didn’t worry about the consequences. I knew, whatever it was, he’d make me like it. Somehow, this man has become safe to me, and my heart doesn’t know how to handle it.
I pull back just enough to meet his gaze, no doubt looking like a complete disaster, nose red, tears streaking down my face. “Sorry.”
“How very Canadian of you,” he murmurs as he trails a thumb along my cheek, catching a stray tear. He’s being gentle with me, but there’s an underlying coldness in his gaze, a rigidness to his body that gives away the rage building within him.
“Tell me what happened, and I’ll fix it.” His stormy gray eyes glint silver as he studies me.
“It’s…it’s fine.” I relish the idea of Damon tracking Thomas down and ruining his life, but that would come with the need to face everything.
Cool air hits my back when he moves his arm, and I flinch, scrambling to grab the ripped seam of my dress. Suddenly, even the idea of him seeing my scars, of how broken I’ve been, makes me want to throw up. I grab the seams of my dress, holding them together in a fierce grip.
“I can’t.”
His head rears back, hurt written in his eyes.
“Just…just leave my dress on.” My voice is almost a cry, and I can see his face drain of color.
Damon stares at me for several seconds before nodding and pulling me against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against mine as he sucks in air. His body’s trembling, as if he’s using every ounce of his willpower. His arms bind me to him, squeezing once, then letting go. He kisses the top of my head before getting up and leaving me to go to the bathroom without a word.
I collapse back on the couch. I’ve upset him, but I don’t know what to say to make it better. I care what he thinks more than I want to admit.
I want him to see me as he does right now. Not as the broken girl I was.
Chapter 25
Damon
The bedroom door clicks behind me, and I collapse back against it. Every instinct in me screams to go in there and demand to know who it was so I can cut them up, inch by inch, while they watch. Someone hurt my girl. Some sick bastard dared to lay his hands on her, and I’m going to hurt them back.
It’s the fear in her eyes and her trembling body in my arms that keeps me in place. She needs me here, and she doesn’t need the sick, twisted version of me.
I’d nearly puked when she’d flinched back and gripped her dress together. The small motion told me everything I needed to know about what happened to her. I want to rage, but it’s not what I want that matters; it’s what she needs.
And right now, the last thing she needs is me stomping around her place, intimidating her.
I grab my phone and text Matthias.
Me: Pull up her past.
Matthias: I know you’re new to this whole husband thing, but even I know you should just ask her.
My jaw clenches together, and I breathe through my nose, trying to keep my shit together.
Me: Someone hurt her.
