He looks down at me. “All animals bite when they’re provoked.”
I lean down, looking through the glass. Hopefully, if I show interest, he won’t want to try to scare me by taking them out.
Their tanks are large, lots of room to move, and they look clean. The snakes lie still.
“Wouldn’t they like to be together?”
“They’re not puppies,” he retorts. “They’re wild animals. They don’t play well with others, and they don’t like company. They don’t make friends.”
He removes the top of the cage on the left, and I immediately take a step back. No.
“If one of them gets aggravated or stressed,” he says, reaching in and picking up the red, black, and yellow one, “it’ll eat the other one.”
Damon pulls out both hands, the snake coiled through his fingers, and he turns to me, the snake inches from my body.
I scurry back, and he walks toward me, laughing. “How could you think I’m your brother? Look how scared you are.”
He shoves the snake in my face, and I scream, my back hitting the wall.
“No, I don’t like—”
“Shut your mouth,” he growls, grabbing for my hands with his free one.
I struggle, trying to get away from him, but his body pins me to the wall as he holds the snake with one hand and gets my wrists in a lock with the other. Pushing them over my head, he pins my hands to the wall, and I start tearing up, my chest filling with dread.
“No, no, please…”
“Shut up.”
I twist my head back and forth, squeezing my eyes shut as he holds me there.
“Do you know who I am?” he asks.
My breathing shakes, and I don’t want to open my eyes. Then, something touches my cheek, and I jerk.
“Stay still or he’ll bite.”
I pant, instantly stilling every muscle.
“Please,” I whisper, begging.
But I don’t move. The touch comes back, and it’s smooth, like water. Oh, God. Please.
“Look at me,” he says.
My lungs empty, and I hesitate. But slowly, I peel my eyes open.
I see a red, black, and yellow blur in front of me, and shake with a cry. He’s holding it to my face. I feel its tongue flit over my skin, and I start breathing fast, my chest racing up and down faster than my heart.
“Shhh…” Damon says soothingly.
I force myself to raise my eyes to him, and all of a sudden…my breathing starts to slow. He’s piercing me with his eyes—which I see now are more black than brown—and I’m locked in.
“Look at them out there,” he tells me, turning his head toward the window to my left.
I follow his gaze, slowly turning my head away from the snake to see men in black skulking on the lawn, two valets in white waistcoats, and a man and woman exiting a shiny black car.
“When I come on the scene, they all fucking look away,” he whispers, staring outside. “When I speak to them, their voices shake. They don’t even let their wives, girlfriends, or daughters come around if they know I’m home.”