5
After getting dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt a couple of sizes too big for me, I walked out into the living room. The same men from yesterday were sitting on the couches, and the woman, Scarlett, was coming out of the kitchen holding her little boy as he drank from a sippy cup.
Drake looked over at me as I came into the room. “I see she’s doing well,” Tyrone commented, drawing my eyes to him.
“No thanks to anyone in this room,” I retorted, walking to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
“Do you realize the danger that you’re in?” Scarlett asked me as if I were stupid.
“No,” I said sarcastically as I turned to face her. “Please enlighten me.”
She rolled her eyes. “The men that are after you are nothing to be joking about,” she warned me. I rolled my eyes. “They’ll wear you down and hurt you until you find comfort in those drugs.”
“Look,” I snapped at her, “I know what the fuck I’m dealing with, alright? I can take care of my damn self.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out, my jaw clenching at the text message as that familiar, aching longing bloomed in my chest for him.
I’ve gotten wind that you’re in some kind of danger. Call me. –Damien
Even if Damien had worn me down, treated me like shit, and made me a quiet, shell of the person that I had been before I met him, he had always protected me, and he had murdered anyone that dared to even look at me the wrong way.
And his senseless murdering is what had landed him in a prison cell.
Blowing out a soft breath, I locked my screen back and pocketed my phone. I looked up at Drake, feeling his eyes on me. “We’ve got a problem,” I told him.
He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. He looked up at me. “What is it?”
I swallowed thickly. “Damien knows,” I told him.
He clenched his jaw. “How the fuck does Damien know what in the hell is going on?” he demanded, looking at me with accusing, dark eyes, as if I had been the one to tell Damien that my life was being threatened.
I shrugged. “Whether you want to admit it or not,” I told him, “Damien has a way of finding out things about me. He’s the biggest asshole and manipulator I’ve ever known, but he never fucked around when it came to my safety,” I reminded him. The entire time I was with Damien, I had only been kidnapped once, and that was only because he’d tried to give me space when we first started talking. But nothing had happened to me—he had rescued me. And he kept me under lock and key afterward.
I might not have liked the way he did things, but I was always safe.
Drake snorted. “That man fucking ruined you, Hayles.” My stomach twisted with nausea at the nickname he had given me. Any kind of familiarity between Drake and me right now made me want to run in the other direction after he had kissed me.
I shrugged. “Yeah, he did, but Damien might be good for us right now,” I told him.
Drake’s eyes hardened. “Not a fucking chance in hell, Hayley,” he snapped, using my real name. “I won’t allow that bastard around you.”
I sighed. “Drake, you’ll be there twenty-four-seven. He won’t have the chance to get close to me. Please just try to see this from my angle,” I begged him.
Because at that moment, Damien was the only person I trusted to make this all right again, to get rid of the threat against me.
Damien didn’t play games with my safety, and if I had to see Damien in person, relive all of that pain and heartache again to get rid of this issue, then I would, with or without Drake’s consent.
Because Drake didn’t control my life, and he certainly didn’t control my decisions.
Drake stood up from the couch, his jaw clenched angrily. “It’s out of the fucking question,” he snarled at me.
Tyrone stood up as well. “Are we talking about Damien Parish?” Tyrone asked. I nodded. “I thought he was in prison.”
I shook my head. “He just contacted me earlier. He’s my ex-fiancé,” I told him.
Tyrone sighed, gripping Drake’s shoulder. “Drake, I know this conflicts with everything you feel right now, but Damien might be a good addition to get rid of this problem.”
“Goddammit, no!” Drake roared. “You didn’t fucking know Hayles when I fucking met her!”