Master of Death (Hollow #2)

CHAPTER 26

I wake up in a weird state of mind. Somewhere between pain and peace.

I still don’t know how to feel about all this. How will Damon forgive Palmer? How do I forgive her and Damon for hurting Harvey? How do I forgive myself for keeping it a secret instead of telling the blue-eyed boy who once owned my heart?

I have no idea what I’m doing.

All I know is that I still feel the same as I did weeks ago—I want to do life with Damon.

The reminder flickers through my brain like a wake-up call. I’m tangled in his arms. We must’ve fallen asleep on the living room rug while I stroked his hair after his revelation.

I free myself from him and go about my morning routine. I also make Damon coffee for when he wakes. My heart drops when I turn around and he’s there, a beautiful specimen, leaning against the wall.

“Hey.”

“Why didn’t you leave me downstairs? You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be sleeping on rugs.”

I shrug because, really, it’s no big deal. I’d sleep over a pillow of fire for him, but I don’t tell him that.

“I made you coffee.” I add almond milk to his cup and place it on the island before sauntering over to him. “Thank you for telling me.” I hug him, and he wraps an arm around my waist, clutching me.

“Let the pain in.” I cup his face with my hands once we’ve released each other. “Lean on me, Damon.” I kiss his cheek. “Lean on me.”

An emotion I can’t pinpoint filters through his eyes. He says nothing. Does nothing. Until, finally, he says, “Come with me later—to her grave.”

My heart is pounding and my mouth dry.

I don’t even know what to tell him—I’m stunned—but I nod because there’s nothing I’d want more than to be by his side.

We’re at Palmer’s grave.

I’m not sure what I expected him to do—maybe yell—or cry? Instead, he lays flowers against her stone, showcasing that she died in October.

When he comes back next to me, I hold out my hand, and he grabs it. He squeezes my hand, which is perhaps Damon’s way of letting me know he appreciates my being here with him.

I wouldn’t leave him for the world. Even though some might think I should.

I love him. I want this, us, too much to let him go.

So right this moment, I’m choosing to let his secret and betrayal go as well, leaving it at Palmer’s grave.

“I should give you a minute. I’ll be in the car.”

He nods, and that’s my cue to leave. A part of me is praying he’s eventually able to make peace with his past because our future depends on it.

After he comes back to the car, it’s dead quiet on our way home.

I don’t touch him; I don’t question him.

I know he knows I’m here for him should he need me.

When he parks in the driveway, he finally speaks. “I’ll go for a run, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

Ten minutes later, I’m inside the house, ready to bite my nails off. I know he’s out jogging, but my mind is circling around in anxiety. Fear consumes me that the time spent at the cemetery might not be enough for him.

I decide to call my dad instead to distract me. We make plans to go for a hike tomorrow with Damon, since he’s back from Seattle and wants to meet him.

It’s a good thing we dropped off my dad’s car recently.

I try to get more details about his multiple work trips in Seattle, but he warns me he isn’t getting married anytime soon—as if Gia and I would ever have a problem with that.

The rest of the time we talk about the baby, and suddenly I feel like Gia.

Speaking with my dad calmed me. Even more so when I make my way downstairs after a short nap and find Damon making dinner. His naked, chiseled back is all sweaty.

“Good run?” I ask, placing my arms around his torso.

He nods.

Relief fills me when I notice the absence of pain that’s often portrayed on his face.

“Hungry?”

“I’m famished.” I take a seat on one of the stools as he brings our chicken salads and sits next to me.

Two things—I’m starving and I’m horny.

I tell him about my conversation with my dad and our plans with him for tomorrow. While we eat, I finally ask him what I really want to know. “And ... are you feeling better?”

“I am, actually.”

“Good.” I kiss the side of his jaw, which is peppered with facial hair. “Do you need some space today?”

He frowns, bringing his thumb to my bottom lip. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes. Yes, you do.”

“Gemma, I really am sorry for everything.”

I clear my throat, letting his dark gaze hypnotize me. “I know.”

“I feel free now that you know everything.”

I must stare at him in wonder because he just opened up to me sober. They’re small stepping-stones, yet they build a strong foundation.