Master of Death (Hollow #2)

CHAPTER 16

I wake up the next morning with Damon’s arms fully draped around my body. He must’ve brought me upstairs after I fell asleep.

I push away from him, doing my morning routine before heading to the kitchen to make us pancakes. I text Gia in the meantime, letting her know about Damon’s moving proposal.

I can’t do it over the phone or in person.

I’m a coward.

Even more so because I want to move in with him, yet I can’t shake off the judgment that’s sure to come from her.

My nerves are shot when I hear my phone vibrating against the kitchen countertop, and I see that Gia’s calling me.

“Gemma, tell me you’re not entertaining the idea! It’s been a few, what, weeks ? You just left Harvey.”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

“Crazy?” She laughs. “It’s absolutely delusional.”

“Gia, you and James moved pretty fast as well, and I didn’t call you delusional.”

“It’s different. It’s James. Damon’s a loose cannon. He won’t be there when shit hits the fan, Gemma! I’m telling you—don’t make this mistake.”

“You don’t even know him,” I whisper.

I value my sister’s advice. I barely, if not rarely, follow it, but I need to hear it all the same.

“Neither do you,” she says.

I want to tell her that she doesn’t know us. She doesn’t know what Damon makes me feel or how he is when we’re alone. Instead, I tell her I need to go. She calls my name, but it doesn’t stop me from hanging up on her.

I need time to process all of this.

“What the fuck is this? Tell me you didn’t, Gemma. Tell me you fucking didn’t .”

I turn my head in a quick motion. My notebook slaps against the marble tile of the island as Damon stands behind it, his hurt eyes watching my every reaction.

“I trusted you .”

I walk to him, hating myself when he backs away, recoiling from my touch.

“Damon, I’m sorry.” My throat is dry, and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I feel faint and ready to drop on the ground, because five seconds ago all I had to wonder about was if I wanted to live with him.

Not anymore. That thought shouldn’t be a worry anymore.

“You went through my purse.”

“Of course, I did. I checked my drawer yesterday, and it clicked later on that the pink book looked thin. And last night you protected your purse like a newborn.”

“I know I shouldn’t have, Damon—I know that. I’m sorry. I just ... I was desperate for answers.”

He shakes his head, backing away from me. “It’s not your business. There’s nothing to tell. I loved her and she’s dead —end of story.”

I know nothing I say will smooth this out, so I simply hand him back my notebook. “You should read it.”

His jaw clenches, and he grabs the notebook and throws his bag on the floor near the door, the sound making me jump. The minute he grabs his coat, my mind goes into survival mode, knowing what’s to come, knowing I couldn’t prevent the inevitable.

“Don’t leave. You promised . Damon, please ...”

Hate pours out of his eyes like lava, ready to burn me alive. Except he won’t be ruining me physically—he’ll be burning my soul.

“I’m sorry.” I’m holding on to his arms, holding on to him, holding on to us.

“Good for you, Gemma, for getting one fucking side of the story. Now you’ll never get mine.” He leaves with the notebook and his bag.

He leaves my house. He leaves my life.

But he’ll never leave my heart.

Damon’s intertwined with my soul, and the soul never forgets where it belongs or what makes it happy.

I stand for a long while, staring at the door, my stomach in a million knots.

I smell something burning and walk slowly to turn off the stove and throw out the burnt pancake. I place the rest of the batter in the fridge, unable to eat.

My phone vibrates twice on the counter. Gia.

She’ll have to wait. I can’t bear listening to her tell me he did exactly what she told me he’d do.

I knew Damon would leave. I just didn’t think I’d be the one to push him away with my idiocy.

The thought of going to work tomorrow feels like a double-knife stab. On one hand, I’d rather risk seeing the hatred on him than to never see him again. On the other, I know he’ll break me until there’s nothing left.

Soft, shallow breaths escape me as I curl up in a ball in my bedroom upstairs. I refuse to believe that this is it, that I’ll never be in his arms again, never experience more of his hugs. Damon always made me tremble with joy or madness, but, either way, he made me feel .

I felt everything in the deepest part of my core.

The possibility that I might never hear his rare laughter crushes me down to the marrow of my bones.

I want Damon in my life. I need Damon in my life. Damon is both my wants and needs. He gives me everything I ever wanted. Despite the time it took for him to get there, I know he loves me.

But he also looks for any reason to push back, with Palmer being at the front and center of those reasons.

The crying lady inside my head does so for me—she does so because she knows what I refuse to believe this very second. That Damon would’ve left me no matter what.

So now this is it.

He’s gone.

On Monday, tension reigns in the office when he signs a few things for me. His jaw is tighter than my black dress, his eyes careful to avoid mine.

I stare at the depressing painting on his office wall, wondering how we can relate so easily to art, even abstract, when we’re struggling.

I want to ask him how long he’ll ignore me, how long until we can fix what’s broken. But the energy surrounding him stops me in my tracks. As soon as he’s done signing, I grab the pile of documents and leave without a word.

Then I respond to emails, my mind wandering toward my fight with Damon.

He didn’t say we were done. Perhaps it’s a little bump on the road. One we can talk through and move on from.

Perhaps it isn’t. Perhaps one betrayal is enough for a man like him.

Marie asks me out for lunch, and again I say no. The thought of eating or being around anyone makes my stomach churn.

I go through the day in auto mode, feeding myself nothing but denial to get through the pain buried in all the creases of my heart.

He ignores me all day.

When I get home, I shower and head to bed early, numbingly reading Harry Potter . My mind refuses to feel the usual satisfaction that accompanies reading.

This time I’m doing it for self-preservation. To survive what’s yet to come.

Eventually I place the book on my night table before stuffing my face in my pillow. My breathing is ragged, and thoughts of Damon consume me to the point of drowning.

Come back.

I need you.

I wish he could hear me. Wish a wizard could grant me my wishes. Of all I could wish for in life, I’d want Damon in my life and for Harvey to be happy.

Gia’s calling me again, but I ignore her.

Our fight plays out in my nightmares, over and over, each dream taking a different turn until I wake up drenched in sweat.

All of them with a main plot—Damon leaves me behind.

He moves on because he doesn’t need me.

Even the bright sunny skies can’t turn my mood around on Wednesday.

Damon’s eyes narrow a fraction when he sees me in the morning. I must look like shit. My stomach is grumbling and my head pounding despite the constant water I’ve been consuming to keep me going.

“I need you to research something. Check your emails,” he tells me abruptly.

I nod and turn on my heels to leave him to his throne, where he sits alone.

“Wait.” He stops me in my tracks. “Have you been eating?”

I face him again, wondering if my eyes reveal the lifeless feeling that sinks inside. “Why do you care?”

I don’t wait for him to answer. He left me, so it’s not his problem if I starve myself. I forced myself to eat strawberries last night, but that’s about the extent of it.

Back at my desk, I do some research for Abby Whitmore—the one who’s always after Damon’s cock. I check the guidelines of the United States Environmental Protection Agency, following the application to build a project that will potentially infringe on environmental regulations.

My research brings me well into the afternoon, where, for the first time in a few days, my mind doesn’t wander to my situation with Damon.

My focus explains why I didn’t hear him leave. I only see him come back with a bag in hand, a five-o’clock shadow on his face, and his eyes revealing a dire need of sleep.

“Eat.” One word. One order. He places the bag on my desk and heads back to his office.

I remove the sandwich from the bag and take a bite, knowing I need to force my appetite.

When I end up in his office before leaving for the day, I have more courage. My mind is clearer, my stomach is satisfied, and I’m ready to do more than survive.

I’m ready to fight.

Fight him. Fight for us.

“Thank you for lunch.”

He eyes me rapidly and nods. “You need to eat, Gemma.”

My eyes shift to Palmer’s diary on his desk. It’s as if he needs the reminder of what I did to keep himself away from me.

He walks to the door to grab his coat, and there’s a knock. When I see who it is, my throat tightens. Abby’s here. Jealousy immediately darkens my blood, turning my vision crimson.

Is he leaving with her?

“Abby,” Damon greets her.

Stop sounding so fuckable.

Damon, come back to me.

Mischief dances in Abby’s eyes when she takes notice of me. “Well, hello, Damon, long time no see.”

I know she means nothing. She’s a client. He’s doing nothing wrong.

“Should we take one car? We’re going to the same event, after all.” Abby winks.

My mind refuses to reel in the anger, to dim down the distrust from her comment.

“Sure,” he tells her simply, and for a split second the lady inside my head wishes to scream.

With his laptop and the diary in hand, he goes to leave, waiting until Abby’s at a safe distance before turning to me.

“When you’re done snooping around my office, lock the door.”

And then he’s gone.

I text back Gia before driving home. Knowing her, she’ll send a search party to my dad’s place if I keep ignoring her.

Henrik’s waiting on the front steps when I get home. I notice the relief I feel, seeing him there, as if I couldn’t take another night of feeling sorry for myself, drowning in pain, while Damon’s out with her.

“Hey.” He smiles, gauging my reaction. The last time we spoke, I got pissy with him for partying instead of watching over Harvey.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in? I brought a peace offering.” He pulls up a joint and a bag of food, and I take the joint in my hand, shocking him in the process.

“Sometimes, Hen, you truly know what a girl needs.”

He coughs. “You mean always.” He grins as we step inside. I change into a long tee, draping a soft blanket over my legs as we eat on the couch.

“I’m sorry, Gem. I’ll do better watching over him.”

I finish the rest of my burger before popping a fry in my mouth, my appetite back in motion.

“Maybe it’s just me who hovered over him and annoyed him. Maybe I should’ve encouraged him to live more. I don’t know.”

He sighs. “Gemma, beauty, stop putting all the blame on you.”

He lights up the joint and passes it to me. I oblige because I want to forget.

I want to forget the venomous thoughts that possessed me as I watched Damon walk away with her. If she were a normal client, I wouldn’t care as much. But I know how much Abby wants Damon in her bed.

Is she sitting in the passenger seat of his car? Is she touching his thigh? Touching what’s mine?

I shake my head, deciding to smoke like a chimney instead to clear my mind.

“Want to tell me what’s going on? Gia told me she’s tried to reach you for days.”

“So that’s why you’re here.” I close my eyes, letting the back of my head fall over the couch.

“I like hanging with you. You know that. And if something’s wrong with you, I want to be there for you.”

“You should be there for your brother.”

After I reopen my eyes, I watch him eat his fries. “I can be there for both of you. So, what gives?”

“I think Damon and I are over. He keeps his past hidden and, well ... I went to great lengths to find out more, and he caught me.”

Henrik grabs the joint and takes a hit, laughing. “Quiet rebel for life.”

“Henrik.” My voice quivers, and the pain in my chest is so, so real. He holds my hand, and I breathe in and out, trying to contain the ball lodged in my throat. “I’m a mess. I love him.”

“He’ll come back.”

“You don’t know that.” I will myself to believe him.

“Gia told me he asked you to move in. He’ll come back, Gemma. You made him uncomfortable, and it probably feels like a betrayal.”

Oh, Gia. Why would you tell Hen that?

“Yeah,” I whisper, “no doubt about that.” I clear my throat. “How’s Harvey doing? I feel bad. I was really mean to Claire on Saturday.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to like her when my loyalty lies with you.” He hands me back the blunt, and I happily let every drag push me further away from reality.

“Your loyalties should be with Harv. Always.”

Something crosses his eyes. “He asked for a job at the tattoo parlor he used to work at. They said yes, and they’ll make arrangements for him. He’s starting off a few hours a day, so he’ll be doing smaller tattoos and piercings.”

“Claire,” I whisper, shaking my head with a chuckle. “She’s good for him, Henrik. If you need a reason, like her for that.”

After hours of playing cards and smoking, I’m high out of my mind. We ordered a large pizza, and I called Damon, then hung up, unable to stop laughing.

I sigh loudly, smiling at Henrik. “This feels soooo good.”

The next thing I know, Damon’s name pops up on my phone. Hen smacks my hand away and presses a finger to his lips before he accepts the call.

“What’s up?” Henrik asks Damon, and I try to coax him to hand over my phone.

“She can’t talk right now.” I envy how normal Henrik acts when he’s high, because he’s built up a tolerance to it. “Chill, she’s just stoned.”

Henrik hangs up, and I smack his arm. “Hen, I wanted to talk to him!” I grab another slice of pizza, a random chuckle leaving my mouth. If one thing can return my hunger, it’s the weed.

“Trust me.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but not even twenty minutes later, someone’s at the door, knocking loudly. I’m laughing as I bang my arm on the wall while I walk there.

I smoked wayyy too much.

Hen puts on his coat as I let Damon in. “Where are you going?” I turn to Henrik. “You can’t drive, Hen.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I shake my head.

“My driver will drive you. Text him tomorrow. He can pick you up to get your car. He’s right up front,” Damon tells Henrik.

Damon’s jaw clenches when he notices me in my long tee, showing off my bare legs, before his eyes darken as he stares at Harvey’s brother.

I signal Joey, waving my hands in the air before Joey gets the hint and opens the door to the back seat for Hen.

When I turn back around, Damon places his hand on the door above my head, after shutting it.

I laugh.

It feels so liberating. I’m free.

Free of pain.

Free of sorrows.

Free of worries.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn him. “So you can be with Abby, but I can’t hang with Henrik?”

“Abby’s a client.”

“Who wants to fuck you,” I say as I make my way to the couch, refusing to let him dampen my mood. I finish my slice of pizza, watching him sit near me.

“I’d never touch another woman.” His words soothe me. We might be able to work through it if he’s acknowledging this. “Let’s get you to bed, Gemma.”

“Only if you sleep with me.”

We head upstairs and I land in my bed, waiting for him, but he doesn’t follow me. Instead, through sleepy eyes, I see him hover over me, pushing my hair behind my ear. He moves away to drape his blazer over the back of my chair.

“You’ll stay the night? You won’t leave?”

“I’m here. Now sleep.”

I nod, wishing I could hold his hand, wishing I could kiss him. So, I tell him my deepest wish. “I love you, Damon. Come back to me.”