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Slapping me would’ve surely hurt less. I take a few steps back, my mind exploding with thoughts. I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying that my heart is bleeding out because of him.
Damon cut me. And now I’m bleeding.
“What?” he prods.
“I’ll be on my way then.”
“No! Say what you want to say.”
I look at him, and confusion zings through me. “I heard you loud and clear this time, Damon.”
“For ONCE in your goddamn life, Gemma—say what you fucking mean!”
Enough.That’s enough.
“Screw you!” I yell at him, reaching to push him again for the second day in a row. He catches my wrists. “Why did you seduce me then?”
He chuckles. “No.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to blame me. I warned you. I told you how many—”
I smack his chest with my fists. “And then you told me to look at your actions and not your words. You...jackass!” I’m shaking violently. This man brings out the slowest of burns inside of me; he brings out of me the furies of hell like no one else.
“Why do you keep pushing this away, Damon? Something so,sogood?”
He shakes his head repeatedly, and I feel for him. I don’t know what he went through or what kind of day he’s had, but I imagine he wasn’t out having sex with that woman.
I nip the jealousy stirring deep within. At least I hope he wasn’t.
“WhyDamon?” I raise my voice.
“Guilt!” He snaps like a monster’s teeth on its prey. One second I’m in his arms, the next I’m alone as he paces in front of the fireplace. “Fucking guilt, okay?” He places one hand on the wall, leaning against it, while the other palms his face. “So much... so much guilt.”
This isn’t the Damon Dreygon he shares with the world. This is dark Damon with a storm raging in his eyes. With a temper not everyone sees because he controls his emotions so well.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t say anything else. Whatever it is abouther, whatever happened, whoever she is, it still hurts him. So I vow to myself to let him tell me his story on his own time. The same way I keep Harvey my dirty little secret.
“I know about your boyfriend—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” I correct.
He waves me off, as if the details aren’t pertinent. “It’s not hard to guess. The modified car, the ramp at your house... You really need to register in that pretty brain of yours that I’m. Not. Goodforyou.”
I laugh, only to stop myself from crumbling to his caramel-wooded floor. The screaming lady inside of me lost her voice. Now she feels like she’s losing her sanity, like she’s that much closer to death, with a match at her fingertips, ready to ignite the flame.
“Why do you keep saying that? Why do you feel guilty, Damon?”
I sense the wheels turning in his head but once again, he refuses to answer, so I take my purse off the floor. I need to leave before I lose it in front of a man who keeps pushing me away.
“You don’t want me? I get it. I’m done trying.”
His eyes narrow, and I see the uncertainty building inside. I can’t keeppushing and pushingand making these men in my life want me.
I shouldn’t have to.
“I’ll call Joey,” he whispers.
“He’s outside. Goodbye, Damon.” My voice croaks over his name.
Tomorrow, he’ll be Mr. Dreygon again. I’ll have to be near him, so close to him physically, and learn to keep my emotional side detached from his completely.
