Page 54 of A Vicious Love

“Yes, Mr. Crow.”

I left while hoping to the gods above it was not my fault Damius was in Harlan.

CHAPTER EIGHT

JAMISON

Iwoke up hungry, and hungover. Blood was dried across my knuckles. A smear on my forearm where my sleeve had ridden up sometime between two in the morning and whatever fucking hour it was now. I stared at it and tried to remember if it was mine.

Probably not.

My bedroom was floor-to-ceiling glass, Harlan spread out.

Rain dragged thin lines down the windows. The city looked expensive and full of people I wanted very badly not to speak to.

I reached for the cigarette on the marble tray beside the bed.

I swallowed two painkillers with leftover whiskey and lit the cigarette before my stomach could object. The first drag burned down my throat.

My phone started vibrating.

I ignored it.

It stopped.

Started again.

I took another drag and watched rain slide down the glass. The phone kept going. I grabbed it so hard the screen nearly cracked.

“What?”

“Sir,” Reeves said, voice already tight. “We have a convoy approaching the west gate.”

I exhaled smoke. “Then shoot someone.”

“It’s Crow, sir.”

My headache sharpened.

“Which Crow?”

Another pause. The kind that meant the answer was about to ruin my morning.

“Damius Crow.”

The cigarette burned between my fingers.

“Say that again,”

“Damius Crow’s convoy is approaching your residence.”

Of fucking course my grandfather had crawled out of Villain like an old god with a grudge and decided my house needed haunting before noon.

I looked down at my bloody hand. “Tell security to stand down.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell anyone who asks that I’m unavailable.”