Master of Death (Hollow #2)

CHAPTER 24

Pain is a disturbed stalker. It waits, dormant, in the creek of the forest to catch you when you’re weak and lonely.

And then it pounces.

Except, as always with Damon, I have hope.

And we all know hope is the true killer.

I thank Gia by text after reading the list she sent me of all the books I should read and all the things I’ll need for the baby.

It’s unbelievable that not long ago all my worries centered on if I should be with Damon. And now there’s a tiny thing inside me.

I see Damon step out of the elevator, pushing the glass door. I’m gawking at him in his charcoal suit and white dress shirt. When he stops near my desk, I notice the subtle darkness under his eyes.

“Hey,” I greet him softly.

He squints, a certain angry story line present there. “Morning.” He heads to his office and turns around. “Join me in two seconds. Please .”

After closing the door, I take a seat in one of the chairs facing his caramelized brown desk.

“Did you go to the doctor’s yet?”

“No. I’m going for blood work tomorrow morning.” I called my doctor’s office before Damon showed up.

“We made a baby.”

He speaks in awe rather than the fear that emanated from his eyes when I shared the news. If only he would’ve had that reaction then. Not that I gave him much time to wrap his head around it either.

“I knew your tits felt different.”

I let out a small laugh. “Sure did.”

“Gemma.” His eyes are pleading, and I shake my head, standing up as he saunters around his desk, right in front of me, grabbing my hands in his.

“We talked about this.”

“So now we can’t talk? I can’t touch you?”

“Damon, that’s how space works. We have to give it to each other, especially since we work together.”

If I don’t push him away and give myself time, he’ll reel me back in, only to stomp all over my heart within the next few months. I can’t worry if the smallest thing will set him off. I can’t have this crippling anxiety that it might be too much for him to experience labor with me.

I even thought about quitting my job—if it would be best.

I don’t want to leave. I love working for Damon. But perhaps I should consider moving to another department or do the master’s program. But I must admit, juggling studies and a baby is not something that appeals to me.

The pain in his eyes makes me want to forgive him. I want to grab his face and kiss him deeply.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

For living in his home, having him look like a ruthless prince in a dashing suit, and not be able to kiss him and touch him and know that he’s mine.

Any minute, his eyes, his mind, and his heart could wander into the hands of another woman. And here I am—determined to give us space.

I leave the safety of his hands over mine, his mouth slightly aghast as I walk out of his office.

After catching up on my emails, I put together an online presentation for a meeting of his tomorrow. As I’m scanning the information, Damon appears in the copy room, placing his hand behind my back.

“Do you have a second?”

I narrow my eyes, skeptical. “You’re actually asking me? Did you borrow manners from someone else since I last saw you?” I tease him.

“Just come.”

He guides me to the boardroom, and a light blush dusts my cheeks as I remember the last time we had sex in here. I lean against the table, waiting for him to speak.

“Did you give the master’s program some thought?”

“Sure. Before I found out I was pregnant.”

He takes a few steps toward me, one hand stroking his jaw, the other in his pocket. “You know money isn’t an issue. If you want to do your master’s ...”

“It’s not my priority. I want to do right by my first child.”

His body tenses, his eyes relieving me of all insecurities and doubts and fears. He’s looking right through the crystal glass and seeing me in my most vulnerable form.

“You will. We will,” he corrects himself, shooting me a sincere look. “I was thinking you could do the internship program a few days a week—part-time.”

I stare at him in disbelief, which is unwarranted, considering Damon often looks out for my career.

“Actually, yeah. I’d love that.”

“Okay.” He gives a small nod, biting his lip.

A lip I want to bite. I feel better today—physically—free of nausea, which paves the way to sexual desires again.

“I sent you the link to apply. I’ll see you later. I have a meeting.”

“Wait, I have a question.”

He stops in his tracks.

“For Abby’s project, if she’s scared it won’t be approved, couldn’t they build the building higher versus wider?”

“We could, but you should never tell a client no.”

He’s out the door, and I head back to the copy room, missing him the second he walks out.

My heart finds me utterly stupid for putting the brakes on us, but my mind is convinced it’ll be worth it.

I finish scanning for the presentation, then apply for the part-time internship. Last time I checked, I’d only seen full-time applications. I figure Damon went and created one for me. As if that’ll contain the rumor mill.

Not that I care.