Squeezing my eyes closed as the water begins to heat up, images of Daemon sleeping peacefully on his bed fill my mind.
My hands tremble as I vividly remember crushing up those pills and watching him drink them without even questioning me. Guilt assaults me, twisting up my stomach until I have no choice but to rush from the cubicle, drop to my knees and heave into the toilet.
My stomach convulses, expelling the breakfast Daemon fed me a few hours ago. The memories of how sweet he was as he cared for me in his own dark way bring more tears to my eyes.
“Calli?” Bri shouts. “Are you okay?”
My entire body trembles and I rest my brow against the toilet seat, feeling weak and hopeless.
“Yeah,” I call back weakly.
“Calli,” she warns, aware that I’m lying to her.
Sitting back and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I blow out a breath.
“I’m okay.” Thankfully, my voice comes out a little stronger this time, almost strong enough to convince her.
“Dinner will be ten minutes,” she tells me, but something tells me it’s not what she really wants to say.
“Okay, I'll be out in a bit.”
“You want me to go and kick his arse into next week?” she offers, making a smile pull at my lips.
The image of her storming over to his and doing just that is too amusing to ignore. Well, until I remember that he’s probably still out cold and unable to defend himself.
“It’s okay. I can handle it.”
It’s a lie. A huge fucking lie. When he wakes and comes after me… a shudder rips down my spine.
I thought he was bad that night as he marched me away from Ant and pinned me back against the car. Anger like I’ve never experienced came off him in waves, but I fear I’ve barely scratched the surface of Daemon’s depravity—and, if his words are anything to go by over the past few days—his obsession.
The things he said to me about being the only girl he’s ever seen, about not wanting anyone else since he was six years old.
Pushing to my feet, I stumble back toward the still-running shower and tip my face to the water.
A million and one questions spin around my head, but the most pressing are around the things he said about wanting me, watching me, craving me.
It was bullshit… right?
He’s never so much as looked my way, ever. He barely even spends time with the guys, let alone knows I exist.
Forcing thoughts of him out of my head, I grab my shampoo and set about washing him from my body, too.
I want to say I feel better as I pull on a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie, but I don’t. My head and my heart are still both wrecked over the events of the past forty-eight hours, and it’s more than obvious that it shows on my face when I step back out into the main living area of my new basement home.
Bri’s smile drops as I walk toward her, my eyes locked on the containers she’s laying out on my kitchen counter.
“Please, don’t look at me like that. Trust me, I know I fucked up. I don’t need to read it on your face.”
“Wha— I’m not. No. I don’t think— I don’t even know what’s happened,” she argues.
“Pretty sure you’ve figured out the basics,” I mutter, stealing a spring roll and ripping it in half with my teeth.
“Things often aren’t as simple as they seem. You’ve met your family and the people surrounding you, right?” she says, trying to make light of the situation.
“Sadly,” I confess, beginning to load up a plate with more food than I’d probably be able to eat in a week but not giving two shits about being a pig.
Without another word, I walk over to the sofas and lower my plate to my lap, ready to dive in and lose myself in my favourite comfort food.