“Some guy named Terrance called to do a security clearance, and I put two and two together. Clearly you aren’t in Miami like you told us you were.”
My belly clenches and I want to scream with the injustice of it all. “Does my father know?”
He cuts his gaze, and that tells me everything before he meets my eyes again. “Yeah. He knows.”
“But he doesn’t care.”
A muscle in his jaw clenches. “I did this to you, Kali. I know I did. It’s eating me alive how I tore the two of you apart.”
“What you did was shitty, Kent. As shitty as it gets. But you didn’t tear my father and me apart. You laid the groundwork, but he got out the butcher knife.”
“No—”
“Yes.”
He inhales and tries to touch me again. I jerk back. “Don’t.”
“Is there a problem?”
Damion’s voice ripples down my spine a moment before his hand rests possessively on my lower back, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my now-racing heart to slow. “What are you doing?” I whisper, turning my gaze on him.
“Who the hell are you?” Kent bites out.
Damion’s eyes shift sharply toward Kent. “The CEO of the casino you’re standing in. And, as I said, is there a problem?”
“You,” Kent bites out. “You’re the problem.”
My head is spinning and I stare at the floor, trying to make sure I don’t end up flat on my face.
“Kali,” Damion commands softly, gently flexing his fingers where they still rest on my back, willing me to look at him.
I turn to him, and my eyes land on my hand, which now rests on his chest. Some part of my mind knows that we are touching each other in public and that means trouble, but I can’t seem to move away from him. He is strong and—illogically, considering the short time I’ve known him—right in ways no one ever has been.
He takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “Let’s get out of here.”
“No. Not yet. I need a minute.” My eyes lift to his, and I see true worry in them. I see that this man does not consider me a conquest. He has let me in as I have him, and it matters. “Just a minute.”
He reaches up and brushes the hair from my eyes. “You’re sure?”
No. “Yes.”
“You’re not sure.”
“She’s fucking sure,” Kent growls, and I sense the defensiveness, the jealousy, he has no right to feel. He doesn’t own me any more than my father does.
Damion’s head snaps up, and he levels my ex with a lethal stare. “Don’t test me. You won’t like the results, Kent.”
Kent’s shock at the use of his name flashes in his eyes, and I see the uncertainty that follows. “What is this to you, man?”
“Do the math,” Damion says, and then refocuses on me, his voice softening. “You still need a minute?”
I nod.
He brushes his knuckle over my cheek, and I shiver with the touch. He notices. I see it in his eyes and I don’t care. Somehow, just by being him, he makes it okay for me to need him. Inhaling, I steel myself for more Kent and turn to face him, aware of Damion backing away.
“You’re fucking him?” Kent demands. “Are you fucking him?”
Emotion explodes inside me. “Don’t even start on who’s fucking who, Kent,” I hiss, pointing a finger at him, shaking inside and out. “Don’t even go there.”