Silent Screams (Hollow #1)

CHAPTER 24

W-Will you come . . . back?

No.

So, I’ll never see you again?

Unlikely. But when you close your eyes—I’ll be there.

So you won’t remember me?

Go to sleep.

It takes a few seconds when I wake up before my stomach turns into knots. The dream of my angel is so vividly clear in my mind, I wish he’d save me from my reality.

Simply remembering what I’m doing with Damon, what I’m doing to Harvey, is enough to make me feel sick. I think of all the decisions I have to make and how I need to figure out what I want.

And which man I want.

Harvey kissing Claire. Harvey drawing Claire. Harvey laughing and smiling with her. Harvey walking with her.

I don’t know how long I stay in bed, staring at the ceiling until the alarm I snoozed goes off again and I know I should get ready. With the snow outside, I always need to leave earlier in case.

I waited until Harvey came home late last night from his hangout with Hen before falling asleep, so today’s Monday feels grimier already.

I shower and wear a black sleeveless dress. One that clings to my body. I put on more makeup than usual, even using concealer to hide the circles darkening under my eyes.

A part of me is nervous to face Damon. Nervous to face Harvey.

I start up the car to heat it up. When I turn around from the entrance window, I see Harv.

He looks as rough as I do.

I wait for him to say something, yet he says nothing. I say nothing. And it hurts knowing that I was expecting a different outcome this time. So I grab my coat from the closet before putting on my boots.

I take my purse and turn to leave when his voice halts me in my tracks, his statement chilling and freezing my blood to the bones.

“Did you fuck him yet?”

When I finally face him, I not only hear but see the malice in the undertone of his voice. His eyes hold the iciest particles, looking colder—a frost only Damon seems able to achieve.

“What?”

How does he know? How does he know ?

“I’m talking about your boss.”

I drop my purse and take a step away from the door, closer to him. “How dare you ask me that after what you’re doing with Claire!”

My walls are breaking down, brick by brick. The screaming lady inside my head is begging to come out, to yell out my frustrations, to do anything, just something.

I cut off his angry laugh when I tell him that I saw his drawings of her. That sure shuts him up. His face turns rigid, his jawbone ready to rip open his face.

“You what?”

I don’t realize that I’m shaking until I pick my purse back up. I hate confrontations.

For once in my life, I don’t think about my next words. “And to answer your question... not yet .”

I deliver the blow on a gold platter but dammit, he’s hurt me . He deserves to feel some hurt over the way he’s treated me.

Guilt welcomes me as soon as I say it—seeing his face turn into a stoneman.

“Gemma.”

“Don’t. You’ve given me nothing, nothing for years, Harvey. God... how many times did I throw myself at you... kneel for you... did I beg you to love me, to touch me, to kiss me? Anything. I would’ve taken anything , even an inch from you. Anything better than the black hole you sent my way.”

I take off my boots, and I don’t stare at his face for long because it’s full of sadness and pain and hurt and I know that I caused a lot of it too.

I’m not innocent in this.

I walk to my room and grab a bigger bag. I pack a few work outfits, casual ones, and all my beauty and hygiene stuff.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m leaving. I need space.” I turn and face him. “I need a break.”

The ice in his eyes thaws and melts, and I know my words are hitting with next-level impact.

“You’re leaving me?”

I don’t want to. I never wanted to!

I nod. If I speak, I’ll take it back. I’ll drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness and promise that everything will be alright, that we can work this out. But those would be lies as well because Damon .

Because Damon.

He looks so shocked, the guilt within me filters through like the spread of a poisonous potion. “I can’t believe you’d cheat on me,” he whispers in a chilling voice. “And you think I wouldn’t realize? Fuck, Gemma! You think I wouldn’t realize you went from being the quiet, sad girl to being happier, livelier? Think I don’t realize you started wearing sexier work clothes? That you always work overtime? That you smell like men’s cologne ? That you went back on a fucking bike after all these years, when you promised ! You promised me.” His voice cracks. It breaks.

And my heart breaks right along with it.

What did we do? How did we get to this?

He’s too late. He’s two and a half years too late. Gia was right.

“It didn’t change anything, now did it? Didn’t make you put in more effort, and try to have an actual relationship with me...” I grab my bag and walk back to the front entrance, putting on my boots. “And what about Claire?”

“I didn’t sleep with her!”

It’s my turn to laugh. I don’t know why I even do. Maybe because it’ll ensure I won’t cry.

“You love her! I know you do, Harv. At least admit that.” I wait for his answer, hoping for a miracle.

His silence is everything.

Then, “Gemma!”

I don’t wait. I slam the door in his face and drive to work, the nerves inside of me multiplying in a ripple effect.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. So much guilt.

Remembering his face when I said I didn’t sleep with my boss yet.

Why did I say that?

It’s the truth though, isn’t it? I want Damon. I want Damon, but I’m not ready to let go of Harvey. Or maybe I am because I just broke up with him .

My drive to work is quiet. I don’t put on music, no radio, nothing.

Except my thoughts.

They’re all over the place, ensuring I don’t feel peace this morning. I wish I could talk to Gia about this, but I already know she’d tell me to communicate, to express my feelings.

Something I was never good at. Look what happens when I do. I’m better off keeping them inside.

When I get to my desk, I put on my heels and try to calm down, knowing I need to focus on my work. I’ll deal with Harvey after.

I close my eyes, thinking back to his expression as I delivered those two words.

Not yet.

I know Harvey won’t touch me—he won’t. No matter how much I beg.

I owe it to myself to get what I want, and right now it’s an intimate night with Damon. Gia calls me twice, but I ignore it. I delete Claire’s text message.

“Someone didn’t sleep well.” Marie comes to my desk. “You look like someone kicked you in the stomach... oh hi, Mr. Dreygon.” Marie waves at him.

He gives her a curt nod before his eyes eat me up with intensity, eying my dress but most of all my face. I feel the tingles inside of me—not only out of hunger for this man—but because I feel so connected to him. I feel something so strong for him I wish I could put it into words.

A million questions are thrown my way with one look from him. And I know he sees it, too, that I look drained. He most likely heard Marie’s comment.

“I’m fine; just tired.” I answer her, staring at her Save the turtles T-shirt.

“Emon and I are grabbing lattes. You coming?”

I shake my head. She shrugs, unbothered by my lack of speech, and leaves without any harm done. That’s why I like Marie.

If I speak, my voice will shake. My knees will tremble. It’s like a lump lodged in the middle of my throat. So foreign.

“Gemma. . .” Damon tips his head to his office, and I follow him inside, closing the door, both of my hands holding onto the knob behind my back. I need all the support I can get.

I’m still trying to process the drawings and breaking Harvey’s heart.

I’m still trying to process that this is life. What my life has become. Mostly because I’ve let it come to that.

Maybe things would’ve been different if we would’ve exploded on each other sooner.

And I wouldn’t have fallen for a man who’ll never want more.

“Yes?”

Damon’s brow arches as he comes close to me, and I realize he needs to hang his coat on the door hook.

I step out of his way, watching him place it, then he grabs my wrist before I can move farther away. “What’s wrong? What did he do?” His voice is soft; it’s almost a plea.

He leads me to his desk, where he leans, my legs cocooning themselves between his.

“Nothing.” I grab one of his hands with my own, but he lets go of me, his hand traveling to my hip instead. The last thing I want to talk about right now is Harv.

We’re done—there’s nothing left to discuss.

“Then why do you look like you’re going to be sick?”

“There’s nothing, okay?” I’m pulling away from him, and I hate the absence of his touch as much as I hate the absence of a good thrill.

“No.”

“No?” I test, my patience wearing thin.

Today is a shitty day. Today sucks .

I want to go home. Scratch that. I want to go to Gia’s and wear long fuzzy socks and one of Damon’s sweaters and read. Or watch movies with Athena and see princes through her eyes. See happily ever after through her innocent, clueless eyes.

“Will you ever learn?” he asks when I head for the door. I turn, giving him my attention while he continues, “To say what you mean and say how you feel?”

“I say what I mean,” I tell him through gritted teeth. The foreign feeling in my throat is bigger, more invasive. I can’t get rid of it. The woman inside me is screaming again, ready to explode. She’s banging on the walls.

Bang, bang, bang.

“Do you really?”

“Yes, Damon—I do!”

He walks off his desk and takes long strides to me. “Then what’s going on in that head of yours right now?” He’s searching my eyes, exploring, looking for answers I don’t even have.

“You know what...” I walk into his arms, pulling his red tie to me. He looks like a dashing man of power in his black suit, crisp white shirt, and a red satin tie. “I’ve waited long enough to have sex with you, Damon. Either you fuck me, or I’ll find someone who will.” I release a shaky breath as I deliver my threat in warning.

I don’t even recognize my voice—my words—nor the strong conviction in them.

In an instant, his eyes harden. God, this day is going to be the worst. Why did I have to poke the monster?

His hand grabs my chin, forcing me to look up, pulling my body closer to him.

“Is that a threat? You’re treading a dangerous line...” He squeezes slightly harder this time.

I nod, swallowing down my nerves. “Good. I want to cross it.”

He narrows his eyes .

I want more, so much more, Damon. But I’ll start with sex.

“You’re right.” He lets go of me until his fingers hold on to the bottom of my dress. He brings it as high as he can considering the tightness of it. “Why am I considering your feelings when I can have your pussy?” The flame spreads from his fingers across my sex as he traces the top of my red thong. He tugs down both sides until it falls to the base of my ankles.

I should recoil at the harshness in his voice, at his choice of words. He’s giving me back a warning of his own, that I’ll never own his heart.

I’ll never truly have this man.

Still, I step out of the thong, and Damon takes it, tucking it inside the pocket of his black trousers.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He walks back to his desk and sits down—all power, all man, all sex.

“I’ll fuck you.” He gives me a brief lustful look before his eyes dismiss me while he starts to work.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He can’t just decide—decide everything.

I want it now .

While I have the guts, the courage . I reach for the zipper, pushing the wide straps of my dress down my arms, exposing my lacy, red bra.

I feel more like a woman—with this job and these outfits and the lingerie. And with the looks Damon always gives me.

“What the fuck are you doing? I said tonight.”

I shake my head. He’ll change his mind; he’ll find a million reasons not to fuck me tonight. I know it; I can sense it. My thong in his pocket is his way of appeasing me.

Temporarily.

He’s on his feet, his leather shoes bringing him closer to me. He’s so beautiful, it almost hurts to watch such a pretty man exist.

“Gemma . . .”

I shake my head.

“You’re not thinking straight.” He looks behind me; I know the door isn’t locked. I know I probably look insane.

Damon grabs me by the arm, leading me to his own restroom inside his office. It’s not as big as I expected it to be, but it’s all sleek and modern.

He closes the door behind us, one hand atop my head on the door, the other rubbing his jaw.

“Please... please don’t reject me.” I pull myself closer to him, grabbing on to his neck like he’s saving me from drowning.

“You look frantic, Red. I’m not—”

I push him. I can’t even make sense of my feelings, my actions. All I know is that I want him. I’ve reached my quota of doing what I should, of not doing or saying what I want.

I’m done.

I want to feel something other than this melancholy. Damon helps with that. I don’t even know why—he’s pretty moody.

“What kind of monster are you? You give me all these warnings that you’re not a good man, yet you can’t even fuck me!” I push him again, except this time when he grabs my wrists, I kiss him.

My words—they’re somewhat for him, somewhat for Harvey.

But my actions are for Damon. I kiss him, transferring all my feelings into the kiss. Everything from Harvey and Claire and my future.

Everything I give to Damon. Because he can take it.

I don’t need to tell him I’m falling for him, not when I can show him instead. He’s doing the same; he’s pouring feelings into me, I can feel it.

God, Damon .

As soon as he groans, gripping my ass, I take my cue and wrap my legs around him. He deepens the kiss, roughly pushing my back against the wall.

It hurts, but it feels so, so good.

I’ll take this over the darkness any day. With Damon, it’s passion, it’s fury, but it’s goddamn passion.

So much so, we’re both moaning and groaning, sucking and teasing and licking. He bites my lower lip, and I reciprocate. My hips thrust and move against the massive bulge in his pants.

“I don’t have a condom.”

I shake my head and bring his lips back to mine.

“I don’t care. Damon...” I continue my thrusts, and he lets out a feral grunt, looking at the ceiling like he’s praying to his god that I’ll stop. “Damon, last time you asked me to give you my cum—and I did. Now, I’m asking you to give me yours. Please .”

He pushes up the bottom of my dress to my waist. I’m naked underneath. It’ll be easy, so easy, for him to slip in. I’m more wet than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

My breast is removed from its red cup as Damon sucks and pulls on my nipple ring.

And then he thrusts into me—hard. It’s as if light shines through me, overriding all the obscurity. It’s the connection between me and him, the passion we share between us. It’s strong, stronger now, and not easily thrown away.

“You make me lose my shit, Gemma!”

I feel his kisses all over, the pull of his fingers on my nipple ring as he thrusts into me, harder and harder and harder.

Oh, my fucking God.

Why, oh why, did I deny myself this for years? Was I waiting for the ultimate prize? Damon sure seems like it. Damon gets me. He infuriates me. He drives me mad. But he believes in me. He challenges me.

I feel closer to him already, and the future scares me.

He shuts up my moans with his mouth, his hand roughly holding on to my jaw. He’s everywhere—he’s so hard—his thrusts so deep. It’s going to hurt tomorrow; I can feel how tight I am but my pussy is overjoyed, sucking him in, refusing to let go.

The friction, the warmth, the energy.

The chemistry between us.

“I’m not good for you, baby...” Baby , it sounds foreign on his lips and I love it. I’m nailing his neck with my fingertips, my heels digging into his back to bring him closer to me, deeper, further and further and further until all I see, feel, and taste is Damon.

“I’m not good for you, and you’re not good for me.” He bites my neck, and I’m breathing so frantically I can’t even answer him. “You make me lose control... I can’t fucking lose control like this.”

I don’t like hearing that we’re not good for each other. So I collide my lips against his, silencing him. I shut out his words—I don’t want to hear them.

“Make me lose control, Damon. Please. Make me lose control.”

“Fuck!” He flips us around so that his back is against the wall. His hands wrap around my waist tightly, and his thrusts grow quicker and quicker—he’s fucking me too hard and fast.

My mind has turned to nothing. Nothing. It’s shut off. It’s not dark, though; it’s light. I feel the light, this high .

I miss this feeling.

He pulls out of me, throwing me on the counter, pushing his fingers inside of me. He bites my clit so stupidly hard that when his cock plunges back inside and his hand grasps onto my neck, it moves mountains deep in my core. I’m coming, shaking, thrashing all over him, loudly moaning his name.

“Come inside . . . I want . . . to feel you.”

I hear his loud and powerful no but my pussy clamps around him, pulsing and tightening as I ride out my orgasm. He groans and kisses me, and I lose myself in this man, seriously lose myself in him—all mind, body, and soul when he makes me come again as I feel him spreading his cum inside of me.

My head hits the mirror behind me. I’m shaking, my body throbbing. I can tell by the look in his eyes he doesn’t fully grasp what just happened.

His eyes are dark, hating. Will he hate me after this? Or will he come back for more?

I can’t breathe. I’m still in this post-orgasm state of mind.

We stare at each other, and he looks pissed. He looks as if he’s drowning too. He’s mad, so mad as he stares at his cum trickling down my leg. He tucks himself back in and zips up his black trousers.

Then he does the unthinkable and pulls out his wallet, handing me a one-hundred-dollar bill.

“Plan B. Get the pill.”

I’m stunned, really. I know what I asked of him was risky, but he’s staring at me like I’m a trickster with magical abilities.

“I don’t want your money, and I’m on the pill,” I say quietly. I’m trying to keep myself together, trying not to break.

He shoves his money back into his wallet. I don’t know how Damon can make me this angry in a split second.

I cover myself and zip up my dress. Right as I’m about to pull down the hem of my dress, his finger skims the cum off my thigh, bringing it to my lips, pressing the pad of his thumb inside my mouth.

One minute he’s furious, and the next he’s feeding me his semen. My attitude makes even less sense because I suck my lips around his thumb.

“Don’t ever pull something like that again. I was going to fuck you tonight.” His eyes deliver another warning; he’s trying to scare me, but it won’t work.

“It’s always on your terms. Always.” And my voice quivers as I think my words are meant more for Harvey than him. “What’s the big deal, Damon? We both wanted this anyway. We both— ”

He’s pulling on his hair in a way that I’ve never seen a man do. It makes me want to comfort him. I just had the best sex of my life, and he looks as if he’s dying inside.

“Because it’s different with you.” He shocks himself. His eyes register the words coming out of his mouth, yet he says them again. “It’s different with you,” he whispers.

In a brief second, his cold stare is back in place. Then he’s gone with a small slam of the restroom door.

A numbness takes over. It’s not a dark hole. I’m not drowning. The screaming lady no longer screams.

I’m numb, so numb. And I’m content with this.

There’s no pain at the numb level. Only an in-between state of being.

I clean and fix myself before leaving his office. I don’t see anyone when I make it to my desk. Damon’s office is secluded anyway, and there aren’t many people on this floor.

Damon’s nowhere in sight. He just left, and it terrifies me. What if I pushed him too hard, too fast?

I turn on my computer to check his calendar. He has a meeting with Julia in half an hour. She likes punctuality, so I hope he comes back. I’m barely registering anything when I read my emails. Words mix together, meaningless.

My mind, my body, is reeling from the experience.

I touch my swollen lips, then I put on nude lipstick and deodorant to try to hide the signs that I had sex with my boss.

I fucked another man. Not Harvey.

I should feel worse, remorse, but I’m good in that numb state. I’m not mad, not shaking, not nervous. It’s blissful contentment, and I like it here.

It’s different with you. I repeat Damon’s words again and again.

Then Damon comes back, and relief streams inside me, my worry waning as a result of his arrival .

He beckons for me to join him in his office, so I bring a random folder on my desk in case—for appearance purposes.

I follow him inside and close the door. His eyes seem less dark than earlier; he’s calmed down. Staring into his eyes—it calms something inside me too. Knowing what we did together, hoping it brought us closer in some way.

“Still moody?” I ask, surprising myself, and he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t have blamed you. I came inside.”

I tuck the folder under my arm and walk to him. “I’m glad you did. It was the best sex of my life.”

Way to put his ego on steroids, Gemma.

His voice is so soft when he says, “For me too.”

I step back. “You don’t have to lie, Damon.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me to him, placing my hands over his chest. He kisses my cheek. “I mean it, baby.”

I close my eyes. Baby . That word. Out of his mouth. Addressed to me.

I’m swooning.

“That made you mad?” I ask, playing with the collar of his shirt. “You looked so mad.”

He shakes his head. “Not anger. Guilt.”

I want to ask him—oh God, do I want to—but I can’t. I don’t want to scare him off, not now that he came back, and he isn’t mad at me.

“You caught me off guard so fucking bad.” Our foreheads are touching, and he kisses me, spreading a love potion through my veins.

I pull away from him. “I broke up with him.” I wait for his reply, then add: “And don’t feel bad for me. We both know I wanted to have sex with you long before this morning.”

He’s so close to my face, his entire body aligned and pressing against mine. I want him again and again and again.

“You broke up with him?” He whispers next to my mouth, the curiosity blooming out of him. His voice when he asks me this is the sexiest thing, and I fall for him a little deeper as I nod.

His breath, his lips, his mouth. They’re actual weapons of war.

He drags me in for a kiss, a hard kiss, as both his hands palm each side of my face. I moan into him, holding on to his red tie. When he lets go of me, we stare at each other, both of us breathing deeply. He looks happy with the news, and I’m sure I have hearts all over my eyes.

“Tonight . . . stay with me.”

“Okay, Damon. Tonight.”