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Could I relax here? In this moment, could I unfurl that fist inside myself and…let go?
I swallowed again, finding the glass empty. Another icy splash and I was finally getting warm.
And free…
Gone was the threatening phone call from my father. Gone were the texts from Hale. Gone were the white masks from my nightmares, until I turned and refilled my glass once more. This feeling of freedom was intoxicating. I smiled and made my way to the other table where they played poker, and past the room where music throbbed and pulsed with gyrating half-naked women and men engrossed in their perfection.
I was taken back to that night with Lazarus, to the night filled with both terror and desire. He'd made me feel alive in that moment. He'd made me feel…wanted,the kind of wanted I ached to feel again. The kind of wanted I could control. I lifted my glass to my lips, and saw that the glass was empty once more.
The room started to spin, taking my self-control with it.
I strode back to the bar and froze as a deep chuckle of laughter spilled out toward the front of the apartment. One that made me sick with rage…Damon.
I tried to swallow that burn in the back of my throat as my stomach clenched. Just when I'd thought for a second I could have a moment of peace…a second where I didn’t have to battle the monsters. But I couldn’t have any reprieve from the darkness. People like me didn’t get that.
No. We didn’t get that at all.
His laughter rebounded through the room to slam into me.
Sick…infernallaughter.
Mocking. Branding. Burning a hole right through me.
I dropped the glass to the counter and took a step away, feeling the room sway. Movement came from the table. Bruno Bernardi and his little hitman pals watched me. They could keep watching me. Couldn’t touch me, though, could they? Not unless they wanted to find themselves on the other end of Lazarus’s fist.
The idea of that entertained me, filling me with savagery as I strode forward and sought my demon out.
Demon.
Damon.
One and the same.
The alcohol burned inside me. It was all I could feel now as I rounded the hallway and caught sight of him standing with a group. Mr. Fucking Perfection. He brushed back a tangle of curls from his forehead and lifted his gaze as I barked,“Fuck you…you lowlife piece of SHIT!”
They all froze, all turned…and carefully took a step backward.
But I couldn’t stop now. I couldn’t control the inferno inside me…and the words came spilling out. “I fuckinghateyou! I hateallof you.” Tears spilled free. I didn’t know where they came from, but once they started, they didn’t stop.
“Kat?” he muttered, his eyes widening in shock.
A hard bark of laughter tore free. “Oh, you sound so fucking innocent now, don’t you? I wonder how your little friends might feel when they know the true you…” I fluttered my hands in their direction. But I didn’t look at them…my hate was only for him. “What do you think, Damon? You think I should tell them how you really are? How you have to drug a woman for her to fuck you?”
There was a flicker of pure, cold, sickening rage in his eyes before he smothered it with a smile. “Kat,” he stepped toward me. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but you and I know that’s a lie. I’m sorry you’re having a bad night. Why I don’t I take you home?”
He grabbed my arm carefully, with no hint of the real monster he was. His voice was soothing, etched with utter contempt. “Come on, Kat. Let me take care of you,” he murmured, but only when he came close enough that the others couldn’t see, did he smile.
I fucking hated that smile.
With a scream, I lunged, swinging my arm through the air.
He caught it so easily and dragged me against him.
I slammed into his chest and stared up into his eyes. The demon was in there, hiding behind his mask of pretense. He lowered his head, the hallway and the others blurring from view. “You are special to me, Katerina.”
I tried to shake my head, tried to clear the fog from my mind, tried to hurt him, how I was hurt. “I fuckinghateyou.”
He just smiled and nodded. “I know, honey. I’m sorry we argued before. I’m sorry I was a real ass. Can you forgive me?”
